Sound Extract
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Mr. Cliff H. Place of residence, Colchester. Born, 1904. Final occupation, farm labourer.
Can I start by asking you your birth date?
Yes. My birthday was 21 May 1904.
And how many children were there in your family?
Four.
When you were born where were you in the order of the children?
Third.
What were the two that were already living?
Two boys.
About how old were they when you were born?
One was 2 1/2, the other one was 4, about.
And there was just one more after you were born?
A girl born some years after. I should think six or seven.
Can you tell me whereabouts in Gt Bentley you lived?
Near the post office. Quite near the post office.
Is your house still there?
No. It's been pulled down. It was a very old house.
Can you describe to me what it was like - the rooms and conditions?
Yes. It was - very low back door, I remember. They were short people in those days, I think. And two upstairs rooms and two down, plus two small rooms at the very back - more of less attics, I should think. They were quite warm. Plastered walls. The house was wood - wooden house with slates on the roof.
Was it quite weatherproof?
Weatherproof. Yes. Very low ceilings.
And what about downstairs? Was it a front room and a kitchen?
Yes. Front room and a kitchen. The stairs was just a ladder; wooden ladder. Not stairs that we know these days.
And the kitchen itself - can you describe to me what was in it?
Yes. It was just a very low room with a brick floor, always damp, with a rickety table in the kitchen with a bowl to wash on, you know, and a shelf with pots and pans, usually all smoky because it was an open fire we had to cook on.
Did it have a little oven by it?
No. There was no oven... in the fireplace itself, yes. There was an oven by the side of it but the top was wide open, you see, so the saucepans had to stand right over the flames which gave us smoky tea, smoky food quite often.
How much room was there about the flames for the pans? How many could your Mother get on at a time?
Oh, four or five. We used to stand a bar of iron across the top so it would take four saucepans - three and four saucepans, plus the kettle, sometimes.
And what did she burn in the fire?
Coal and wood which we collected sometimes from the woods. We didn't have much coal or rather we didn't have much money in those days to get much coal - about half a cwt a week, that's all.
And when you collected the wood, were you given sort of rights to collect it?
We just went in the woods or the fields and collected big pieces - anything we could get hold of - and Father would saw it up, you see, in the back yard. The old-fashioned saw.
Was that quite a recognised thing for people to do at that time?
Yes. It was. Most people were very poor in those days.
And the people on whose land you got the wood, they didn't mind about that?
No. No.
And to get back to the kitchen. You said there was a bowl for washing. This was to wash yourselves?
Yes. We all washed in the same bowl. There was no sink.
And where did the water come from?
We had to go about 50 yds to a well and draw it up with a bucket; crop and a bucket.
And did you do that several times a day?
Oh, yes. Many times a day.
Was it anybody's particular duty to do that?
No. Mother just said Cliff (or Lance or Jack) would you fetch a bucket of water and sometimes two buckets at a time. But we weren't very big in those days so we couldn't bring them full, even across that distance. Sometimes in my very young days - I suppose we were about four or five, six years old - we used to wait at the well head for some old man to come and draw us a bucket. We weren't strong enough to draw it up.
And did you share the well with any other families?
Yes. About 4 or 5 or 6, I remember.
Was there any shortage of water ever?
Never. No.
Not even in the summer?
No. This well always had plenty of water.
Did your Mother store any food in the kitchen?
No. No. We had a cupboard - a proper cupboard - near the fireplace. Actually, just an opening in the wall with a few old shelves made with orange boxes and so on. Everything was dilapidated in those days.
And she kept things in there?
That's right.
Was she able to keep much in the way of stores?
No. There was never any stores, only as she made jams and fruits, bottled fruit, and so on. We, in those days, lived from hand to mouth. There were never enough money to store anything - no fridge or anything.
She did make jam and store that?
Yes. Yes.
Did she make her own bread?
No.
Was it the custom, on the whole, in Gt Bentley not to make bread at that time?
I don't remember anyone making bread in those days. No.
Did your Father keep a pig or fowls?
Yes. Nearly everybody kept a pig in those days for one reason - to pay their rent. My Father kept a pig from a - a baby pig from about eight weeks old and he used to fat it up and sell it about September time for about 10 pounds or 12 pounds which paid his rent, which was 10 pounds per year. The other couple of pounds perhaps went on clothes for the winter for himself and us kids.
And then when would he get a new pig?
Usually in the spring.
So you didn't ever eat any of that pig?
Rarely. I remember him killing a pig once. I think he had two. Yes. I remember that. He had two pigs; one for us to sell to pay for the rent and one to eat. I remember that we used to hang it up in a spare cavity room. It used to turn black. They used to pickle it, you see. Pickle it so it was black - pickled right through and it lasted for some months.
Did they hang it up on a hook or something like that?
On hooks. Yes.
Did your Father do that - the pickling, putting it in salt?
Yes. He done that all himself. Yes. Kill it himself.
Did he always have two pigs or was that just on one occasion?
Not always. Only occasionally. Maybe about twice in my time - in my young days.
Did the pig eat the household waste?
Yes. With swill from neighbours to help sometimes who didn't keep a pig. Also my brothers and I had to collect acorns in the autumn from the trees. Used to go miles with a little cart for acorns for the pig - to help out - feed it, you see.
Did you have any other jobs in the home when you were a schoolchild or before?
Yes. My brothers and I always had to dig the garden and dig the allotment which was about a quarter of a mile away before we were allowed to play on the Green. Three brothers had to do all that, plant it, and -
You said before you were allowed to play on the Green. Was that after you got back from school?
Yes.
And what was your attitude to that?
We took it in real good spirit because we had to and other boys did too - help their fathers.
So while you were doing it you would see other boys around to chat with and that sort of thing?
Yes. Yes. The allotment was full of boys.
Where was the allotment?
Near the railway station, about a quarter of a mile away or just under perhaps. Ten rods. They termed them as rods - ten rods.
About how big is ten rods? How does it compare with, say, your front garden?
It was as big as this house and front garden, I should think. It's roughly 10 yds by 20.
Quite a lot of garden. And what did you grow on it?
All sorts of vegetables. Potatoes - mostly potatoes to save for the winter, you see, to spare buying potatoes - turnips and in the spring, beans and peas, carrots and onions. Onions and potatoes were the chief crops so we had plenty of food for the winter without buying food, you see.
And the vegetables on the allotment, were they enough for the family?
Not quite but they used to last quite a long time.
And you didn't ever sell any?
No. There wasn't enough to sell. No.
In the garden back at the house, did you grow anything there too?
Yes. We'd always grew some kind of vegetables, mostly potatoes and onions. And greens, cabbage, cauliflower - things like that - red beet.
And did your Mother pickle any of the vegetables at all?
No. She made mostly jam that I remember; blackberry and blackcurrant and redcurrant even marrow jam and turnip jam.
And when you went to the allotment, would it be most days of the week in the summer?
Yes. In the spring is allotment time, you see, when the nights began to lengthen in March, and if dry enough we used to go and get it dug first. That was most important. Father used to come along and plant most things. I think I'm talking now of when I was about the age of eight or nine because I got a kitchen boy's job when I was about nine years old so I wasn't able to do much on the allotment.
When did you first start working on the allotment as a regular thing?
Every night after we came out of school.
You didn't do anything on it before you went to school?
No.
How old were you when you started school?
I was just over four years old. My brother was a porter at the railway station and he used to take me on his shoulder. That's about the first thing I can remember. I ran home the very first morning.
But he must have been very young to be a porter, wasn't he?
He was 17. Now, I'm talking about a step-brother. I didn't include that in my Father's family. My Father lost his first wife when this boy was 13 years old.
Did he live at home with you?
Yes.
Was there just the one step-brother?
That's all. Yes.
You mentioned that you shared the well with other people. Did your parents have much to do with the neighbours?
Yes. They were very friendly. In fact, they used to talk to each other right across the road. You know where The Plough is and my Mother lived in that little cottage where the post office is now or rather where that shop is now and another cottage where the cricket pavilion is now. Mother used to talk to those people right across the road. They were very friendly neighbours then.
And did they help each other with practical help at all, that you can remember?
Yes. I remember my Mother made - she was a dressmaker, a bit of a dressmaker - very good with the needle. And she made several children's little knickers and little jackets. Clothes out of old clothes which most children had in those days. I remember the clothes we had in those days were made out of Father's trousers or jackets or some clothes which could be bought sometimes at rummage sales.
And she'd make them out of that?
Yes, for her friends and neighbours and sometimes to earn a few shillings.
Do you remember them doing anything for her to help her at all in a practical way?
I don't remember. I don't think they did. I just remember they were friends but I don't remember them doing anything practical.
And do you remember them coming into the house at all for tea or to visit?
Yes, yes. We had visitors quite often; neighbours for a cup of tea.
What days of the week would that be?
Oh, almost any day of the week. Anytime. Mother used to have friends each side of the cottage, you see, and they used to come in for a cup of tee and a chat. I remember very well. The tea was usually very weak. I can almost see it now. Of course, let me say again, there wasn't much money to spare then, hardly any. We had to buy things in halfpennyworths and pennyworths, you see. Nothing is cheap if you haven't got the money to buy it with.
And so when they came in for this tea, would they ever have anything to eat as well?
I don't think so. If they did, it was a biscuit - a broken biscuit. I remember going to the shops for a halfpennyworth or pennyworth of broken biscuits. You'd get a bag full but never enough money to buy a lb. of whole biscuits.
And I suppose, following from that, there wouldn't have been any entertaining to meals?
No. Nothing like that. I never remember Mother going out to a meal or anyone ever coming in to a meal.
Do you think that that was not generally done among people of your income?
It wasn't generally done because there just wasn't the money to entertain.
Did your Father brew at all?
No. No. I don't remember him brewing at all.
And do you remember him ever having any beer or anything like that in the house?
No. I don't remember him having any beer in the house of any kind. No beers or wines.
Did they go to the pub?
Yes, sometimes. About once a week. Usually on Saturday nights as most people do now or Saturday dinner times.
Would they go together?
My Mother never did go. My Mother never drank anything in her life. Father not much - an occasional pint on Saturday dinnertime, maybe two or three. Was only a penny a pint then, you see. But as I say, there was never enough money for anything other than food and it was difficult to save the rent and buy enough food to eat.
Because it was 10 pounds a year, I think you said, didn't you?
For the rent. Yes.
It was quite a lot?
It was a lot in those days. Yes.
While we're on the subject of food, could you tell me, for example, what you remember having for breakfast when you were a child?
Yes. Usually bread and jam or lard and brown sugar.
You mean lard and brown sugar on bread?
Yes - which, when I speak to people about it now, they are horrified but it was nice. We liked it, anyway. Or bread and margarine. We never had any cooked meals for breakfast.
Did you have something to drink with it?
Well, tea.
With sugar?
Yes. We had sugar.
And a little milk in the tea?
Yes.
But not milk - a glass of milk?
No. Never. Yet milk was cheap but as I say nothing was cheap if you hadn't got the money. A pint of milk was a halfpenny then. You could get a pint of skimmed milk for a halfpenny but if you hadn't got the halfpenny it was dear wasn't it?
When you had breakfast, did you all have it together?
Yes, when we were going to school.
You'd have it before you went to school, did you?
Yes.
And did you Father have breakfast with you? Did he come back for breakfast?
No. Father used to go off early in the morning, round about 5 o'clock time when he was at work, when he had work to do. But my Father, even then, only had a piece of bread and butter or marge and my Father used to go all day with a piece of bread and cheese and an onion. And if he brought it back at night he would make the bread soft with it because it would be dry, you see. He'd put it in a cup or basin and then pour hot water on it and pepper and salt, rather than waste it. We couldn't waste bread, couldn't afford to waste bread. But I don't remember him taking anything other than bread and cheese to work on all day long.
And not to have had any breakfast when he left?
No. Just a piece of bread and marge and a cup of tea.
Do you remember what he took it in?
Yes. An old piece of sack or rather, first of all, a little white bag which, with a piece of tape pulled together, and then a piece of ordinary sacking slung on his shoulder, with a bottle of cold tea and a chunk of bread. It got very dry by the end of the day.
Why do you think he sometimes didn't eat it then?
Well, it wasn't very appetising and he was a man who enjoyed work and he just couldn't seem to want to waste the time to eat and I never knew him to sit down to eat a meal. He'd walk round his work. This was when he was thatching stack in barn. I remember that more than anything. He'd go round with his bread and cheese in his hand and admiring his work. He would do a good job of work.
And take a pride in it?
Yes, and take a pride in it as most men did in those days. And as well as doing that job of work on that bread and cheese, sometimes the job was five miles away or more. As a child, or a kid, I walked with him five, six, ten miles to his job of work to St. Osyth, to Tendring, to Gt Bromley, to Wicks - you heard of those places? Walked about five in the morning, four in the morning, getting back at night about 8 o'clock. Let me say this, he was a happy man. I don't remember him ever grumbling about anything. He was always happy; good tempered.
Was he a pleasant companion?
Very. Very contented man. If he hadn't got anything to eat or any tobacco to smoke or a penny to get a pint of beer, it didn't seem to make any difference. Just seemed cheerful and happy.
Did you feel close to him when you were a child?
Very. Very. Very kind man.
You say you used to go on these walks with him, did you enjoy those?
Very much. Yes. You're asking the questions but I would like to say this. He was very good at poaching rabbits. My brother and I used to go with him. He'd put the snares out at about 4 o'clock on a winter's afternoon and collect them in the mornings about four or five. My brother and I would go with him quite often.
Did you find that exciting?
Very. Yes.
And what was the attitude towards poaching of the people at that time, that you knew?
Well, I don't remember anyone being summonsed for it. They were threatened by farmers, by the police, but I don't remember Father ever being summonsed for it and he wasn't the only one who went poaching. Sometimes they had permission, mind you, to catch rabbits on certain farms.
Did your Father ever get permission, do you think?
Yes, sometimes. But there wasn't always rabbits on a farm where you had permission and sometimes there was plenty of rabbits where you couldn't get permission.
I just wondered what the attitude of the farmers was because I wondered if perhaps they turned a blind eye because perhaps they realised people didn't have enough?
Yes. I think they knew sometimes what was going on but they didn't say anything.
I presume that a lot of them wouldn't have eaten rabbit themselves?
The farmers?
Yes.
Well, there was plenty of rabbits in those days and they had plenty for themselves and I don't think they bothered about who had them as long as they had enough for themselves.
What about birds? You know, pheasants and that sort of thing - did he get those as well?
Well, no. He never had permission to get them but there was ways and means of getting them late at night - catapults.
Did you go out with him on those, too?
Yes. In those days if you had the money you would invest in a torch. They just began to manufacture torches, I think in those days or a paraffin lamp. And late at night you would go up to a little woodland place where the pheasants used to roost and shine the torch on them in their eyes, dazzle them, and with a long stick you just hit them on the head and drag them down. But for those too high up or too far away you had a catapult, you see. Father was very good with the catapult. He could even kill a rabbit with a catapult.
Did he teach you how to do it, too?
Yes. Most boys had a catapult in their pockets in those days, which I believe was illegal. I think so. I think that if the police saw you with a catapult he'd run you in because we quickly hid them when the policeman who was always on our track in those days for playing games on somebody's property or ... as boys we've many a time gone in with our catapults ... even with sparrows roosting in the tree. We just killed sparrows for the fun of it.
You didn't cook the sparrows at all?
Yes. We have had sparrow pie. Mother's Father had a gun - double-barrelled gun - and working on the farm - the farm where you live now, Sturricks Lane - he used to shoot sparrows and pigeons - wood pigeons. I remember Mother often made a sparrow pie. Us kids had to pluck them, you know. Very tiny things, too, when you get their feathers of but they were tasty - and pigeons. Father had permission to shoot wood pigeons which are pests - eat a lot of corn. Once, my Father was nearly caught poaching. He told this story many times. He used to come with his sack full of rabbits, eight or nine or ten sometimes, and my brother and I - my eldest brother he didn't used to come with us. It was the two younger ones. Me eldest brother was rather more refined than the other two and he didn't think much of that. And coming down that Sturricks Lane one day, one morning about five, the policeman stopped my Father. He said 'how many have you got this morning, William?', as if he knew. Father said, 'four or five'. Father thought he would be run in. The policeman said 'well, I'll have a couple', and he took two out of the sack, and off we came. Well, it happened two or three times so Father got wise to that because he wanted to sell some of these rabbits, as well as having enough for the kids. So at a later date, Father got a piece of string and tied four or five rabbits underneath his trousers and only had a couple in the sack. He done that no end of times 'til one morning the policeman stopped him again. Father had only got a couple in the sack but seven under his trousers and the policeman took one and left Father with one in the sack. And another time, Father shot a duck (he always said 'by accident' but I doubt it) and the very morning he came with his rabbits and duck, two rabbits and duck in the sack and the rabbits underneath his trousers, the policeman stopped him again. The same question - 'how many have you got this morning, William?' 'Oh, a couple'. 'Well, let's have a look'. Father opened the bag and the policeman saw this duck and Father thought 'this is it but the policeman said 'Oh, that'll be a change, William. I'll have this duck'. He asked no questions and took the duck.
What would have happened to him, do you think if a higher up policeman had known he was taking the stuff?
Well, I don't really know. I don't remember people being taken to court. They were warned. I've read many times where poachers are severely dealt with.
But it wasn't like that round here?
No. I've known many poachers but never anyone being taken to court.
Were there certain times of the year when your Father poached and not at others?
Well, when the rabbits are not in season, you see. At certain times of the year rabbits breed, don't they? - with no end of young ones. Well, Father wouldn't touch them under those circumstances.
So when were the times of the year that you would go out?
Mostly at harvest time.
When they were all running around then?
That's right, and you'd get nice half-, three-quarter grown rabbits then. And then in the autumn, you see, they were nice, fully grown rabbits - when they were really good.
What about hares? Did he get hares too?
Yes. He was very good at catching a hare. He could pick a hare up in a field. Pick it up with his hands. Now you might wonder how he knew it was hare that was there, wouldn't you? He could see a hare all round nearly a mile away. He had a wonderful sight. And going through Sturricks Farm early one morning, my brother and I and Father - my Father was looking ahead - oh, it seemed miles ahead and he suddenly stopped. He said 'one of you boys go over that way and the other one go that way and we'll all walk together'. We were about 20 yds, 30 yds apart, you see. 'When I put my hands up like this, you walk towards each other'. So we did and as we walked towards each other, my Father kept on his line of walk and suddenly stooped down and picked up a hare. He knew that it was sitting there. He knew that it would be watching one of us because he made that hare watch one of us before he moved. And often he did that with a rabbit, too. Now, how he spotted that rabbit or hare all that distance away I don't know because it was a long distance that we had to walk before Father would pick this rabbit up or hit it with a stick. It seemed that he could smell a rabbit. And most days we had fried rabbit, baked rabbit, boiled rabbit.
Rabbit pie too?
Yes, lovely, but we were never short of a turnip or swedes to go with it. My Mother made dumplings, you see, with a bit of flour and in those days we had a good dinner when the rabbits were around.
How often would you have the pheasants and things like that or did he sell those?
Occasionally, I think he did. I don't remember eating many pheasants. I think he used to sell them to get a few extra shillings, you see.
I suppose they fetched a better price, did they?
Yes. And he sold some of the rabbits, of course. We had enough for ourselves but I think they were about 6d, or 9d then and you could sell the skins for about 1d or 2d.
Did your Mother skin them?
Yes. Yes.
Who would you sell the skins to?
In those days, the rag and bone man used to come round. A man usually with a sack and he'd examine the skins to see if they were in good shape and give you a penny for them.
Any idea what he did with them?
Well, I don't really but I think there was a place in Colchester who took rabbits and bones and rags - anything like that.
What people did your Father sell the rabbits to?
Usually men who were a little better off than him. In those days - well, say, bricklayers were better off and men who went with the threshing machines. They earned more money and they couldn't get a rabbit, of course, because they weren't anywhere near and some of them didn't know how. So I think Father sold them to them people, and shopkeepers, mostly, and the people who kept the pubs.
And they'd sell them in the pubs, would they, to the customers?
Well, no - not the customers, to the publican usually.
Would he have it for his own family?
Yes.
Do you remember ever going to watch badgers?
No. I never seen a badger in my life. I don't remember Father talking about badgers, either. I don't remember anyone saying there were any badger grounds in this village.
Can you tell me something more about your Father's work? What work did he start off with in his early life?
On a farm. First of all, he was a thatcher. First of all, let me say he was a man who wouldn't work on a regular job. He wanted to take the job, so much per job, you see, so I think he had to start on a farm and then he learned to thatch stacks - corn stacks.
But do you think when he started that, he did sort of unskilled general farm work?
General farm work at 11/-d per week when he got married. And he learnt to thatch stacks. He learnt to clip sheep and dip sheep to clean them. He learnt other farm work and he became good at it so that in the summertime when the corn was gathered and all the stacks were made, he would thatch that lot of stacks for so much money, which was probably four or five times more than he would earn per week on a regular job, you see. And then he would do this sheep shearing which was good money in those days. There wasn't many sheep shearers about and he was very good at it and he earned lots of money then. But you see, by doing these kind of jobs there was many weeks when he was out of work so perhaps he wasn't any better off in the long run.
Was there not any casual work he could do? I believe the threshing tackle used to employ people, didn't they?
Yes, they would get a day's threshing occasionally, perhaps two or three.
Would he do that?
Yes, he could do anything. Oh, I meant to say, before then - before he went to work on the farm - he was a bricklayer.
Was that his first job, bricklaying?
Yes, and he helped build Clacton and parts of Walton.
What, the houses, you mean?
In about 1890. He was a bricklayer at the same time as the Council School was built in about 1893, and those houses down the very bottom of the Green, on the left-hand side - there's some - where old Leonard Newman lived. Do you know Leonard Newman?
I think I know where the house is. Yes.
Well, anyway, he helped build them - not modern bungalows, - but red brick houses - substantial looking houses. He helped build them and other houses in the district. And then suddenly building came to a full stop in about 1900, so there was no work for bricklayers. That's when he went back to the farm.
And had he been on the farm before, at some future time?
I think when he was a boy for a few years. I think at the age of 18 or 19 because he knew all about farm work.
Had his Father been a farm worker?
Yes, he was a shepherd. My Father was a shepherd eventually but my Grandfather was a shepherd and for many years.
Also in Gt Bentley?
In Gt Bentley. He was a shepherd at the Lodge Farm. You may have heard of the Lodge Farm, farmed by Gibbons.
I know of the people, yes. It's further along this way, isn't it?
That's right. And then Father became a shepherd and as a boy I kept about 200 sheep on the village Green.
Who kept them?
I did. I looked after them; stopped them going into people's gardens.
Was that work for your Father that he delegated to you?
My Father done this work for a man named Brooks who went to London to work every day or rather he only came home at weekends, and Father was left in charge of these sheep. Most of them to have lambs, you see. And when the sheep had got their lambs, I used to look after them on the village Green or my brother, or both of us - over 200.
Was it hard work - strenuous?
No. We just had a stick and just used to keep rounding them up and stop them from going in people's gardens. I shouldn't think - I was only about five or six years old then because I became a kitchen boy at the age of nine.
When your Father was doing this work as a shepherd, was he at the same time doing these other things as well, or was he working full time as a shepherd?
He was working full time then.
So, when you were about how old did he stop doing these various jobs?
Oh, well, I was quite a young man when he eventually stopped doing these odd jobs because he eventually worked on the County Council.
What work was that?
He went on the County Council as a bricklayer to rebuild what they call gullies; a little bridge that go over streams. The streams go underneath the road. There's one at the bottom of the hill and he used to do these repair jobs, plus a little road-sweeping on Saturday mornings, I think, in the village street.
And so he stopped farm work, did he?
Yes, he did then, completely.
But at the time when he was doing the shepherd work, he hadn't completely dropped the other work then?
No, no, because shepherds - there were times when sheep were penned in a field or sold so there wasn't enough to do without doing other work as well. But throughout his life, whatever other jobs he had he could always get another job to thatch somebody's house or stack in between these other jobs, you see.
Do you think the variety appealed to him?
Yes, very much so. He was a man who liked variety. He didn't like to be tied down in the middle of a field for about 12 hours a day, then, I think. He'd worked hard for a few weeks when he'd got the work to do, from daylight 'till dark, and enjoyed it, but he didn't like to be tied down to a farm on regular work from 6 'till 6. That wasn't in his line.
And do you think also he liked - I imagine in that sort of work the way he worked, he was his own master, really?
Yes. Yes, he was.
And do you think that appealed to him, too?
It did as it does to a good many people.
And I suppose when he would undertake to do a bit of work, would he sort of make a contract with the farmers?
He would.
How much of the year do you think he was without any work?
Mostly in the winter sometimes. I think - several weeks. If it was a hard winter he didn't go to work.
What did he do at that time then?
Well, he just didn't do anything. There wasn't anything to do. Nothing to do - he didn't go out, hardly.
Would he sit indoors then?
He'd just sit, yes.
Did he read at all?
No, he couldn't read. In fact, he couldn't read or write until he reached the age of 70.
Did he learn then?
He learnt then. And I will tell you why. Because I went in the Army, my brother went in the Navy, and my sister married and went to live in Brighton. His wife had died, of course. My Mother died at the age of 54. Quite suddenly, he was left alone - completely alone. And we wrote to him, of course, my sister and my brothers, and he learnt to write and used to write back to us quite nice letters. And he learnt to read and if he wanted a word to write to us, he'd find it in the nearest paper. Yes, he wrote good letters.
How did he learn to read? Do you know who taught him?
Nobody. He just - he either didn't bother when he was young (I heard him say he left school at the age of seven) or he was too busy to learn to read or wouldn't make the effort until he was forced to. He felt he must write to his sons and daughter.
Was he a very intelligent man?
Fairly, although he never went to school.
Can we go back again. I was asking you about the meals. You said you used to have rabbit done in all these various ways and when your Mother made the dumplings, did you have them to start the meal with?
No. Altogether.
And did you all sit down together for the meal?
Yes.
Can you describe to me how you would have your dinner?
The three brothers - we used to sit at the table. My Mother was very particular - she wouldn't let one start without the other. We all had to start at once.
And would she serve up from dishes on the table?
No, straight from the pan - a rather big oblong pan - it was. Rather burnt, it was, from being in and out of the oven so many times but it was clean and she'd go round the table filling each plate, and her own plate, leaving some in the pan for Father at night when he came home. And that meal, in the rabbit season, was three or four times a week. Sometimes, we had boiled potatoes and boiled rabbit which none of us liked so much - that's if Mother hadn't got any flour to make dumplings, you see, or anything to make gravy with. And when there was no rabbits, it was usually bread and lard and brown sugar, or bread and butter and jam.
For dinner, you mean?
Yes. Sometimes we had cheese. You could go to the shop and get a pennyworth of pieces of cheese - just odd pieces - a pennyworth. We could get a nice bagful for a penny.
What about vegetables - did she cook any vegetables?
Vegetables. Yes. We had vegetables.
When you had, for midday dinner, bread and lard and sugar, would you have vegetables with it?
No. No. Sometimes there wasn't any vegetables from the garden and quite often not enough money to go and buy any. And then, when we couldn't get rabbits, life was pretty hard because meat was cheap enough, but if you hadn't got 3d to get it with, it wasn't. On Saturday nights, I used to do a paper round every evening - about an hour and a half. And I used to get 3d a week for doing that and Mother used to send me to the butchers with this 3d which was next door - where it is now - to get three pennyworth of pieces. Pieces of liver, pieces of sausage, pieces of this and that - quite a newspaper full - wrapped in newspaper. Father would fry a good supper on Saturday nights; enough for five of us, enough for Sunday morning and sometimes for Sunday supper. The old butcher used to give us quite a newspaper full - search the shop. This was about 5 or 6 o'clock on Saturday - just before closing time. Incidentally, he was very friendly with my Mother, him and his wife. That was for 3d - enough for five for three or four meals which we enjoyed. And sometimes Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday if we hadn't got a rabbit, there wasn't much - only bread and jam and butter or marge. We never had butter in those days. And I was kitchen boy in those days, too.
Were you kitchen boy at the same time as you were doing the newspaper round?
Yes. I was very busy. I had to go to this Hall Farm. Black now keeps it. Do you know Black - the Hall Farm - where Black lives now?
No. I don't actually. Whereabouts is that?
That big house on the corner of the Green - that big red bricked house, near The Lion. I went to work at the age of nine for 2/-d per week. I went at seven in the morning 'till ten and then went to school. I come out of school at four o'clock and went as kitchen boy 'till half past five. Mostly it was nearer six. And on Saturday morning I went from seven 'till one, for 2/-d a week.
Did you find it very tiring?
Yes, I had lots of jobs to do. I had to be on the run nearly all the time to get the jobs done. I had to clean shoes: muddy boots and shoes, clean knives on an old board with this old powder, clean round the dog kennels, sift cinders, chop sticks, pump water, go about a couple of miles after a quarter of milk, sometimes it was after six o'clock when I got home - from four 'til six.
Were you a robust child?
Yes, yes.
Were you quite big for your age or would you say you were quite normal?
Normal. No. I wouldn't say I was quite big. I'm not big now. I'm only about 5'7'now, you see. When I joined up I was 5'7". Well, this farmer sometimes didn't leave this 2/-d on the dresser, or on the table, for me He'd forgotten it or gone out, and there was a Miss Barker, his daughter, lived with him. And I used to go home without this 2/-d. I was almost crying, in tears. I knew Mother was waiting for it. And she used to send me back for this 2/-d. Eventually I got it from waiting about a long time - perhaps a couple of hours - and I probably had to go to the butchers with this 2/-d to get the Sunday joint which lasted us for Sunday dinner time and perhaps Monday dinner time. A small joint for perhaps 1/9d, 3d change sometimes.
What did she usually like you to buy?
Beef - nearly always beef. It seemed to go further, or make more gravy or something like that. But she had to be economical, you see.
And when you got your joint, would that be at the same time as you also got the 3d worth of scraps or would that be on other days?
No. This 3d worth of meat was every Saturday night with the 3d I earned as a paperboy. The 2/-d for the joint was what I earned as a kitchen boy. So one can say I nearly always bought the meat with my 2/3d. My one brother was a kitchen boy too. He earned, I think, 2/6d. He got half a crown for his job, - working over the Green there - working the same hours. I think that half a crown went on bread for the week. The other brother, who was a little older, as I told you before, he was more studious. He wouldn't work. He always wanted to .... He was a good scholar, always writing, doing figures, but he didn't do the work that we did. So with my 2/3d and my brother's half a crown, that bought quite a bit of food - bread and meat. When Father was in work, of course, we lived better, much better, but there were some weeks when there wasn't much more than this four or five bob going into the house.
How long did you keep that kitchen boy's job?
Until I was 121/2 when I left school. I must have been only about nine years old when I was doing this kitchen work because when the '14-'18 War broke out, I was delighted when the troops came into the village and into that farm and that was in 1914. Well, I was still only ten years old then. And I worked as kitchen boy 'till 121/2, and his father came to the school one morning and said he wanted me to work regular - every day all day. Could I leave school because his gardeners had gone to the War. And I left school and went to work for him every day from six in the morning until half past five at night and then 'till 5 o'clock on Saturdays for 5/-d a week. All those hours for five bob.
Did you at the time feel it was very little?
No. No. We didn't give it much thought, really, we knew ...
Was that the standard for a boy who'd just left school?
Yes. Yes. We knew we had to earn money somehow. But most boys were doing similar things, you know, kitchen boys and paper rounds. And I was still doing the paper round every night because when the War broke out there was a big camp at the bottom of the hill, hundreds of soldiers there, and I had to take newspapers to this camp, and I sold many more papers, of course, and I got 1/3d a week then because I was selling so many papers but I had to work about three hours for it, plus a black eye sometimes from ... The troops used to put us in boxing gloves to fight the band boys down there.
Why did they do that? For their amusement?
For their amusement.
How did you feel about that?
We enjoyed it.
You did?
Yes. We had the gloves on with the boys, and some of us became quite good boxers and we used to come away with a few coppers - 6d, 1/-, and a chunk of meat sometimes. Sort of a mutton bone with quite a good bit of meat on that the soldiers would give us. And then, my Mother used to do the soldiers' laundry. Lots of mothers in the village used to wash the soldier dirty towels and shirts and pants and I remember if you were lucky enough to get the cook's washing to do, he would pop in a tin of jam or a piece of meat or a nice bone with meat on in the towels, you see. Just tucked in a towel or a dirty shirt to be washed. And many times we've come through the guard at the bottom of the hill - two sentries. Sometimes we were stopped but never once did they undo our laundry. They just didn't know there was anything - a pot of jam or a nice joint in there. We were glad to get anything like that, you know. Perhaps my Mother'd do washing for a dozen soldiers and as a kid, I remember taking it back on my back in a sack for a few coppers.
And would your Mother do this once a week?
Once a week. Yes.
Would she do it with the family wash?
Yes.
Can you tell me how she did her wash at that time?
Well, in a boiler with three or four bricks outside with some iron bars would lay on the top with wood to make the fire.
She'd do it outside, would she?
In an old rusty boiler. Yes. Outside in the garden.
With a fire underneath?
Yes. The most difficult part was getting it dry in wintertime with not a very good fire sometimes. And as kids, you know, we couldn't see the little fire because Mother had got a big clothes horse round it with all the soldiers' linen hanging on it drying in front of the fire.
Did she get it dry in the first stage with a mangle? Did she have a wringer or a mangle?
Yes, an old mangle. That was outside too. There wasn't room for it in this little place in the back. As kids we used to help her wind the mangle and wring it out. We also had a lot of water to cart from across the road there. Mother would - we'd have a bath in the old-fashioned bath with handles on each side and two buckets. There was Mother with one handle on the bath and one bucket on one side and me brother on the other side, you see. So we'd come across that road - the middle road, three abreast - with buckets and a bath of water on Monday mornings for the laundry. We'd get knocked over now with those cars. [Laughter.]
Where did you fetch the water from then?
There was a well near the cricket pavilion.
Was that your usual well that you got the water from?
Yes.
I didn't realise quite where it was, yes.
Those houses have been pulled down now, you see, and that's where we had to bring the water from.
Did your Mother take in washing from anybody else?
No. No. Not that I remember. I don't think she did. It was just the soldiers, you see. As well as earning extra money the householders always take pity on soldiers. I remember that when I was in the Forces. People were kind and the Mothers in the village thought it was patriotic. It was doing their bit to do things for lonely soldiers. And it was one way of helping the soldiers and also earning a few coppers. Perhaps a bundle of laundry only come to about 9d, a shilling, perhaps.
And she'd have to pay for her soap with that?
Yes. And she had socks, towel, underpants, shirt, handkerchiefs, usually five or six. The usual items a soldier has to wash for about a shilling.
And did she ever - do you remember at any time - do any other work, like pea picking?
Yes. She occasionally went pea picking.
Do you remember the particular day this photograph was taken?
Yes. I remember I didn't want to be taken. I was very shy in those days.
Was it the same suit that you had on in the photograph with your Father and the sheep?
Yes.
Did you like getting dressed up?
No, not really. We would rather play on the Green in our rough clothes, but on Sundays we had to dress up all day. We had to go to Sunday School in the morning at about 9 o'clock 'till 10. Three brothers, as well as the other boys in the village, and we had to march to the church from the village hall that is now.
Did you all assemble in the village hall?
All assemble after Sunday School to walk back to the church, and several of us was in the church choir.
Were you in the choir?
Yes.
And both your brothers?
Yes, for four or five years. Then we came home and had a quiet hour before dinner. Then we had to get washed and Mother would take us to Sunday School again or rather come with us to see we went in. We weren't always willing to go to Sunday School, of course. And this was at the village hall - what was the Sunday School in those days.
This is Church of England?
That's right. Mother would be waiting outside for us when we come out of Sunday School and we had to go for a walk with Mother - the three brothers again - through the woods, being very quiet all the time. Then, we came back to tea, washed again, done our hair, off to church again, sing in the choir again. Back home again, and so to bed. No playing on Sundays anywhere, at any time. Later on my sister came along and when she was 4 or 5 years old, perhaps younger, my Father bought an organ -like a church organ. It had pipes and no end of stops. He bought it cheap - he'd been earning some money - I think for 5 pounds for my sister. Of course, being the only sister they thought the world of her and she used to get on this organ and she could play! But first of all my Mother used to play every Sunday after tea. Hymns. And my Father and the three brothers all had to stand round and we all used to sing hymns before we went to church again. Later on my sister used to get on this organ, and because she was very tiny, she had to have a cushion on the stool and it always puzzled us how she knew the stops - different stops to pull out and make it rattle and vamp. When I was - I used to have to be on guard to watch for Mother who was in the garden somewhere and when she'd gone my sister pulled out the stops and played jazz on the organ and it was lovely. And Mother was angry. One of us would say 'here comes Mother'. My sister would quietly have to play Abide with Me or Forever with The Lord, or something. But it was thrilling the way she used to vamp - what they call vamp on this organ. It was terrific. Later on they called it jazz, I think.
Would she play popular tunes, that kind of thing, when your Mother was out of the room?
Yes. Not hymns. It was all right other nights, but not on Sundays.
She was supposed to play only hymns, yes?
That's right. And she became quite a good player. She had lessons and learned to play the piano and she could sing very well. And when she was we were quite pleased, us boys, when she got old enough to sing and play the organ on Sunday because Mother only played by ear, gently, very quietly Abide with Me - the simple hymns. But my sister could play them very well.
She learnt to read music?
Yes. And then it gave Mother a better chance to sing so it was a nice little sing-song we had, or rather sing hymns before we went to Church. But Father used to go to chapel.
Did he always go to chapel?
Yes. Father did. Yes. Every Sunday night Father went to Chapel. And he used to sing these - what they call hymns. Lovely hymns. I used to like them. There was more go in them than the Church of England hymns, I thought.
Did you ever go to the chapel with him, any of you?
Sometimes. Yes, but not often. Mother didn't like us to go. I think it was probably when we got older, maybe 15 or 16. Perhaps we had an occasional Sunday off from church. My Mother was proud of us in this church choir. Sometimes the surplices didn't look clean enough. I don't know who used to do them. When we walked up the aisle and she used to sit near the aisle, you see, so she asked the vicar's wife if she could do her boys' surplices and she made a good job of them, too. They were spotless! White - not grey. Whiter than white! (laughter). Mother was very fond of me, too. I don't know why she seemed fonder of me than the others but the usual surplice had a collar - rather straight collar all round - but she made mine sort of frilled - so it looked frilled. She thought I looked fabulous in this surplice compared to the other boys and I could feel Mother's eyes on me, and only me, as we marched up the aisle. And at Easter time we used to sing that lovely hymn Forever with The Lord Amen, so let it be, and we used to stop in the aisle and sing one verse - there was about 20 or more boys in the choir then, men and boys - and we used to stop in the aisle and sing one verse. Why I don't know, but we did. And nearly always when we stopped Mother would be sitting in our seat here. I was so shy and I used to dry up when Mother was just there, you know. I expect I didn't feel like singing. And she said ' you can sing if you like. You know you've got a lovely voice and you can sing it at home. Why don't you sing when you're in the aisle'. I said, 'well, I don't know. I don't know'. That's all I could say. She said 'you sing when you get up in your seat' so I said 'Yes. I know'. She said 'because I can hear you. Why don't you sing when you're close to me? I like to hear you sing'. But that was a certain shyness I had just at that one spot. It wasn't Forever with The Lord, it was Now Thank We All Our God. A Good Friday hymn, an Easter hymn. That was a hymn that we could let rip when we were in the mood. Sometimes in our hymn books where there's f's you sing louder and p's - I think, now - quieter, the boys would do the reverse. Rather than sing nice and loud we used to sing softly and the vicar's wife used to play the organ and she'd turn round with a face as red as red, you know, trying to give us a down to sing properly. We were just having fun and we got quite a ticking off afterwards by the vicar, believe me.
Was she good at training the choir, the vicar's wife?
Yes. We used to have choir practice twice a week and we were always out for fun and one night - it used to be at seven o'clock in the evening after church - the vicar wasn't there, but his wife was there to play the organ and there was an odd sort of boy who used to blow the organ. He used to pump it, you see, and when he was in the mood he used to just go to sleep or just wouldn't blow the organ. So the old vicar's wife was trying to get some noise but nothing happened. So with our fun and his fun there was no choir practise. We couldn't sing without the organ and she couldn't play the organ without any organ blower. So this sometimes went on for nearly half an hour and the vicar once came - creeped in the big door - and discovered what was going on. So instead of coming out at half past seven that night he kept us there 'till half past eight to practise properly, you see. That was his way of giving us punishment. But he was a very nice kindly gentleman and so was his wife. They used to give us on their lawn, strawberry teas. It was great. We thought we were millionaires when we sat down to a long table with strawberries and cream, bread and butter.
That was for the choir?
For the choir boys. Yes.
Did they have a son of their own in the choir?
No. They had a son but he was elderly and away. He was a clergyman himself.
They were quite elderly then, were they?
They were quite elderly.
Was it quite an honour to get into the choir?
It was. Yes.
Do you think your parents had any disputes over religion or differences of opinion?
Never. No. I never heard them have any disputes at all. ***AUDIO CLIP 1 STARTS HERE*** One thing as a boy I didn't like and it sticks in my mind today. I came to the conclusion that church-goers were something like the railway carriages were at one time - lst, 2nd and 3rd class. You see, my Mother was a person of the lower class - was a poor woman - and she and her friends were all poor but they were great church-goers, regular church-goers, kindly gentle people. But they had to sit in the middle of the church or rather at the back. I say 'middle' because there wasn't so many going at that time. They had to sit in the back pews in the middle of the church were the local shopkeepers and people who were considered to be a little bit superior to the others - better educated, perhaps. And right at the top of the church, behind where the choir used to sit were the local farmers, the local bigwigs, you see. Posh people. And when people left the church, although as I said, he was a nice old kindly vicar, he didn't seem to have any time for the lower classes. Mother and her friends would pass out of the church door - the vicar would stand near the church door - and he would just nod and smile, perhaps not that, even. But when the higher class people came out he would shake hands and beam to everyone of them as if they was somebody far superior to my Mother and her friends, the poor, the very poor.
Very unchristian.
Yes. And I didn't like that. I thought my Mother was worth a handshake as well as the rich. There was the Captain Peele and other local farmers who were considered to be rich in those days. They were select. They had chosen seats, reserved seats.
Were the pews, box pews at that time?
Yes.
And were these people's names on the pews?
Yes. Reserved. My Mother's seat wasn't reserved. If there was something important on and the church was full of people, it wouldn't matter to anyone whether she got in the church or not, although she went so regular.
Was this true also of women who did work in the church? Did some of the poorer women do work in the church like cleaning?
They did most of the work. They did all the cleaning. They did all the decorating, I remember.
Do you remember how young you were when that first struck you?
I couldn't have been very old because I don't think I was a church choir boy after the age of 16 because then I found myself a girl-friend and I didn't - mothers haven't much control over a 15 or 16 year old - but it struck me some years before that. I must have been, perhaps 12 when it used to strike me. Yes. It did because I used to discuss this - and only me used to discuss this sort of thing with my Mother. The other brothers never talked about it.
Do you think it worried them?
I don't think they took any notice, actually.
You think they took it for granted, then?
Yes. But it did me.
And what did you say to your Mother?
I said it wasn't right. It wasn't proper. I said she shouldn't go to church. She said 'nothing will ever stop me from going to my church'. She said that.
Did she say whether she felt in any way hurt or humiliated by this sort of thing?
No. She didn't. As I said before, my parents were so kindly and quiet people. They didn't see any wrong or harm in anyone else. I think in their opinion everyone was good. They weren't vicious or jealous. They didn't complain about anything. They seemed to enjoy life, as we all did in those days. We enjoyed our lives, the boys that I went to school with. We had no grumbles. We didn't feel that we weren't having enough to eat or enough amusements. We had to make our own tools for our sport, we'll say.
What sort of sports did you play?
We used to do a lot of cross-country running and jumping bars. We used to do a lot of jumping. We used to go into the local builder for a couple of stakes with a few nails in and a cross bit, which we either cut out of the hedgerow or perhaps he gave it to us and two posts and the bar was raked on the nail, 2" at a time. You see, we done a lot of that. But we didn't have any gym shoes in those days or white shoes or slippers. We just kicked off our boots and just jumped in our socks. And for a football, we used to just go to the butchers and ask him for an animal's bladder blown up. And for a cricket bat, we just used to make out of bits of wood; the stumps were sticks. The goalposts were somebody's caps or coats chucked down. Everything was made up by ourselves or found. Catapults, of course. We always had a catapult we made ourselves. We made kites - not run into Woolworth's and buy yourself a kite. We used to make them with a bit of willow and a straight stick and a bit of Mother's wallpaper left over from the previous year's wallpapering.
What did you make the tail out of?
String and bits of paper and a bit of flour for the paste to paste the wallpaper to make it pretty, you see. And we used to have better kites than you see today - I've thought to myself sometimes - when I see kids trying to get a kite up they've bought somewhere and they can't get it up. But we used to have kites - seemed to be miles up.
And your catapults, what did you make them out of?
Pieces of wood, twig, with a fork.
And then did you have a piece of elastic?
Yes. There used to be a man in this village, a carrier with a horse and cart. He used to go into Colchester every Saturday to get various things that people wanted and I remember he used to bring us a pennyworth of elastic, rather thick elastic. That was only about so long because you didn't get much for a penny, just enough. We had to add string to each end to make it work, you see. You couldn't just go to a shop and get enough elastic - you hadn't got the money - so we used to stretch its you see. But it was satisfactory. It'd kill a bird from here to your car away or maybe further.
You put stones in it?
Yes. Stones. Made a - got a tongue, usually out of an old boot for the sling - and it was great fun with catapults.
Can you tell me - you were saying that you were aware through the church seating and the vicar's way of speaking to people of these class differences - were you aware of these among the children in the village?
Yes. The same thing happened. I've spoken about it several times since. There's two girls in this village or women rather. I suppose they're nearly as old as me now maybe a few more. Their father was a bricklayer. Those two girls and the schoolmaster's daughter and the stationmaster's daughter always thought they were a bit above the rest of the kids, you know. They wouldn't mix. There was still that class distinction when we went to school. And the builders' daughters and the farmers' daughters - they were all - didn't mix with us.
Did they go to the school, then?
For a time. Then they went to a school, I think, in Colchester.
But while they were at the school, did they sort of keep themselves a bit apart?
Aloof. Yes. In fact, we ... I rather think the schoolmaster kept them aloof, too. They were better dressed because they had more money. Their clothes were bought off the peg, we'll say, whereas ours were made out of old clothes. I remember, my brother I told you about, my stepbrother was a porter in those days and they had Green cord suits, jackets and trousers, you see. Well, when they were due for another suit because they didn't last long in those days, they had such heavy work on the railways in those days, Mother would cut the best part of the trousers for me or my brothers, for all of us, make little cord knickers. And I should think it's on that photograph, with a little cord jacket, Green cord, they were. And we looked smart in them. I felt smart in them, and a white collar - always a white collar over.
Would you wear it to school?
Yes. There were times when certain kids I've been talking about said 'Ah. Your Mother made that out of your Father's old trousers'. You see, we had that. And it's still with them people.
You mean the feeling of being superior?
Yes. Yes.
When they said that to you, how did you feel? Do you remember?
Well, we felt a little hurt because it's when we felt we were poor, really poor. We felt that our Father was a mere nobody compared with them. And in that shop - Tooley's shop - you know Tooley's shop?
Yes.
There was a family there, three or four girls. Well, they considered themselves far superior to us, you know. They were well dressed. Shopkeepers kids were well dressed then, same as I said, farmers' kids, bricklayers' kids but the farm workers' kids weren't - didn't have any of those, only home made ones, and we did feel it then.
You don't remember having a feeling that you were as good as they were at the time?
No, I don't think. I just think we felt a little hurt that our parents didn't have more money to buy new clothes. I should think I was 15 before I ever had a new suit, brand new suit, which Mother bought on the never-never for a shilling a week. I should think it was somewhere about 1914 or '15 - during the war - '14-'18 war - because I remember the soldiers saying to me, 'Hello. Mother bought you a new suit?' and that's the first new suit I ever had. ***AUDIO CLIP 2 STARTS HERE*** And then one more thing about that. Living next door to the post office we used to take telegrams for the post mistress. I've gone over to Little Bentley or Bromley for 6d, you see. And one Sunday morning I had to take a telegram to the local baker and this was the first time I had this new suit on and when I took this telegram he said 'See. Let me see. Your name is H. [family name], I think, isn't it?' I said 'Yes, sir'. We always called them 'sir'. We were brought up to call men like that 'sir'; the doctor and the vicar whom we thought were rich, even the local baker we thought was important. ' Ee' he said, ' I see you've got a new suit on. It looks like a new suit to me. Good gracious me' he said, 'some of you people will soon be as well dressed as we are'. I've never forgotten that. That's what we had to put up with from the so-called rich and intellectuals.
Did you say anything when he said that to you?
I told my Father and he said ' it's no good taking notice of that old man. Let him go to chapel with his Bible under his arm'. He used to go to chapel every Sunday morning with his Bible under his arm as if he was the most important man in the village but he was a very mean minded type of man. He was an awful man. He shouldn't have gone to chapel at all. He wasn't a Christian as my Father was. He was mean and nasty.
It was a nasty thing to say, wasn't it?
Yes.
And did you tell your Mother about when children used to say this sort of thing to you?
Oh, yes. Yes.
Was she sympathetic when you told her?
She just said 'don't take any notice'. I think she said once or twice, she said ' we can't all be rich. It wouldn't be right that we should, no-one would do the work if we were all rich' . But she had a nice nature. You couldn't make her turn against anybody or tell anybody off or anything. I never knew her, or my Father, get bad-tempered over anything.
Do you think your Father had a good relationship with the people who employed him? Do you think he got along well with them?
Very well, he did. He was in great demand, actually, because he was a good worker and he had a good knowledge of animals and they knew he done a good job of work wherever he went. In fact, he was - I should say - a bit of a vet because lots of farmers used to come after him when they had trouble with their cows or pigs when they were expecting the young. He used to go to a lot of places, look at a cow or sheep or pig.
Can you remember when your sister was born whether your Mother had a midwife?
Yes. Yes. She had a very great friend from where the well is - from where we got the water from - a woman named Newman. She was a very nice and kind, gentle woman who came to my sister for some weeks.
Did she come and live in the house?
No. She just come over every day, every day. I can see her in a black dress and a white pinafore - white top and bottom. I think you call it a pinafore.
Was that special clothing she wore for that particular kind of job?
No. I don't think so. I think most women wore those kind of clothes - black dresses and white pinnies, all in one, you know, top and bottom, not just an apron round the waist, all in one. And with usually a black dress trailing on the ground in the mud. Very long. But they always looked clean.
Was she a trained midwife, do you think?
No. No-one was trained in those days. They were either gifted, or done their best or were recommended by the local doctor to help so-and-so, but yes, I think they had some training because my Mother was in the village Red Cross which they haven't had here for some years. Probably they had a bit of training.
Did she go to a lot of other women, this particular Mrs. Newman?
Yes.
Had she a family of her own?
Yes, eight or nine.
This was the British Red Cross was it, in Gt Bentley?
That's right.
Was your Mother among them?
Mother is in the dark dress, the only one, I think, with dark clothes on.
And did she have a doctor as well when the little girl was born?
Yes.
Do you remember if it disorganised the house very much or if your Mother was soon up again doing things?
I should think she was soon up again. I don't think she was out of sight for long. I don't think they could afford to be with a family.
And help with the housework and all that sort of thing was also done by this friend, was it?
Yes. I remember neighbours used to come in, too, one from either side with the little titbits, or soup, or .... . What else was it the local butcher used to bring in? ...some dripping or some soup - yes, the local butcher - or something nice, a little custard or a little jelly. That's about the only time we saw such luxuries, when someone was ill. And in those days as kids, grandfathers and grandmothers were dying, you know, and of course when relatives came to the funeral they had to find them food or something special, so when they did there was cakes and wine, mostly wine, home-made ginger cakes. I remember, nearly always ginger cakes and jam sandwiches, and what not. And as kids we used to up to the funeral and have a good tuck in. We enjoyed people dying in those days because afterwards my uncle - I had an uncle who played the accordion - it was something like the Irish have, the Wakes, you know. After the funeral, with this home-made wine which was getting the better of them, uncle would play the accordion and those who could dance would dance and those who could sing would sing and it ended up with quite a nice gay evening.
And where was that held, then?
It was held in a house just round the corner of the cricket pavilion. I had an uncle who lived there, my Grandfather.
And whose death was it then, whose funeral?
My Grandfather's and my Grandmother's and another Grandmother, Mother's mother. But that's where we always had the reception - we'll say - where we had ginger cake.
So it wasn't really a very depressing, gloomy thing?
No. No, it wasn't only - it was up to the funeral. Of course, it was quiet and a few tears.
Did you go to the graveyard first?
Yes. Yes.
As a child?
Yes. And I remember for my Grandfather, Mother bought me and my brothers black caps as a mark of respect. The old fashioned black caps with a little knob on the top made in sort of panels and you couldn't get just what you wanted in those days. Mother found the money for these caps from the man who kept a drapers store over where Cudmore's used to live. Well, this studious brother, he didn't come out to football and that. That evening after the funeral my other brother and I went to play football after the funeral, threw our caps down for goalposts and when we came away my cap had gone. Somebody had pinched it or else took it away in devilment. I had to go home without my cap. I got a good ticking of and Mother said 'I'll never buy you another black cap if all your relations die'. And my other brother said 'well, if he's not going to wear a cap, I'm not going to wear one', and we've never worn one since, until we went in the Forces. I've never owned a cap since of any sort.
Because in those days most people did wear caps, didn't they?
Yes. They used to hang over their ears. No-one were dressed without a darn great cap over their ears, were they?
And when the Grandfathers and the Grandmother died, did your Mother wear anything black or grey herself?
Well, they always wore black in those days.
She wore black anyway?
Yes. They wore black mostly. I think Mother had - I can imagine she had something black - it would be a black hat. She seemed to be in a deeper black than usual. I can't think what it was but they always wore black stockings and black dresses anyway.
So it didn't make very much difference?
No. No. The men used to wear just black armlets, you see, and a black tie but us kids the black caps. I've thought since, well, what a respect for a poor old Grandfather when we had cakes and ginger beer and wine and football and the accordion. Anybody's birthday, funeral or wedding anniversary was an excuse for a party in those days. They used to - between them - because in those days I had lots and lots of relations living. My Father had eleven as a family and they nearly all lived 'til they were over 80, and some 90. The last one died only the other day. There was eleven of them and they used to get together and get this food from somewhere. They always made it in those days - home-made wine with beets, or potatoes or barley, or fruit wine and it was quite strong, too. They used to get drunk on it, you know. And I've heard my Father sing perhaps a dozen or 15 verses. They used to know lots of songs in those day. These days some of them only know about one line and start humming all this, but in those days they used to learn lots of verses.
What kind of songs would he sing? Do you remember any of them?
One song I liked very much was a song called 'Terry O'Neill'. I don't think you would know it.
Is it an Irish song?
Yes.
Do you remember how it begins, at all?
'Are you going too, are you going too ...' I just can't think. He sung it at my wedding. We thought he was going to sing all night.
Does it tell a long story? Is it a folk song?
Yes. About four short lines to each verse, you see, but they would go on and on. But another song he could sing very well indeed, my wife used to sing it too - 'I'll take you home again, Kathleen'. That's a lovely song. You know that?
I think I do. I'm not sure, actually, but it sounds familiar, you know.
Yes, a lovely Irish song. He would sing that. I've got the music. Sometime I'll show you the song sheet.
They were both Irish. Why do you think they were both Irish, the ones he knew?
Well, I don't really know.
Had he any Irish relations or had he been to Ireland, do you know?
No. No, not that I know of. And he used to sing a lot of hymns. He knew a lot of hymns.
And at these parties you were mentioning, would he sing them?
Yes, always.
And would a lot of other people sing too?
Yes. Quite often there was community singing and then sometimes someone would say 'now I'll give you one' and they would get up and sing but during the whole evening there would only be about three able to sing because there were so many verses in them. But then they would join in the choruses, you know.
What about recitations, did they ever have them in Gt Bentley?
Yes. I knew a girl very well who used to recite beautifully. I remember at school she used to recite. We all had to recite in those days; 'Play Up and Play The Game' - quite a long poem. They used to tell lots of funny stories at these receptions - some drawing room and some not.
And if they weren't, did it matter if there were women around? Did they not mind?
No, they didn't take any notice.
It didn't matter?
No, no.
And were the children there, too?
Yes.
Would these celebrations usually be in the evening then?
Always. Yes, always.
Were the funerals on Sunday afternoons?
Mostly every Saturday afternoon. It was the only time they could get there off work, you see, because in those days people had to work 'till five and six every night and Saturday afternoon and eventually that was the only afternoon they had off. I don't remember funerals any other day other than Saturday afternoons.
And did you have Sunday School treats at your Sunday School?
Yes.
What were they like?
They were great. I had a Grandmother alive in those early days and she used to save my pennies - and we were always earning pennies. We'd go around trying to earn pennies somehow even searching the local pond for a beer bottle and get a penny on it, or a monster bottle and my Grandmother used to save all the pennies - put them in a handkerchief - put them in her pocket in her old dress underneath her pinny, and she didn't tell me how much I'd got 'til I went to the Sunday School treat. And I remember once I had 4/-d. I thought I was a millionaire. 4/-d in coppers - in pennies - and it was great. The first thing I did when I got to Walton -Walton-on-Naze - was to go to these slot machines and you could put a penny in it and get penny bars of chocolate. They cost 6d now, don't they? Or more and that's still my favourite chocolate - is St Peter's chocolate -penny bars of Peter's. I think I pulled enough bars 'til I made myself sick - six or seven bars, I think, before I left off. But I always brought some money back. She thought I was a good boy because I brought some money back. I didn't spend out. Then she'd start saving for the next treat. That took a long time, you know, to save four bob's worth of pennies in those days.
But was that a Sunday School treat, then?
Sunday School treat. And we used to go in the wagonette drawn by four horses from Brightlingsea. Just imagine one of these big wagonettes, I think they used to call them. It'd got a cover over the top supported by some brass poles, all open at the sides, and it used to come from Brightlingsea with four horses and a coachman. Take us to Walton-on-Naze and come back the same day. It's marvellous. People couldn't get there quick enough in a car now, could they?
How long did it take you then?
Well, I ... it seemed a terribly long time, but we enjoyed it.
How many of you approximately were there?
40 or 50, I should think.
And when you got there, did you go on the sands?
Yes.
And did you have a tea?
Yes. There was always a tea provided. I think it was a place called the Winter Gardens, Walton-on-Naze. It was gorgeous - this Sunday School treat.
Did any of the others come as well?
Yes, yes.
Did you ever go to the seaside on any other occasion or was that usually your only trip?
It was my only trip that I ever knew until I was a grown man, of course. In my boyhood, it was the only trip, the only time I ever went to the seaside, the Sunday School treat.
Did all the children in the village that you knew about, belong to the Sunday School?
Yes. Yes. Always went to Sunday School, nearly the whole village. There used to be seven or eight teachers in those days you know, there was a lot of kids. Oh, there was a lot, and when we went to church Sunday mornings after the Sunday School, we had to march to the church in three and four abreast in an orderly fashion, with seven or eight teachers walking by the side.
And you wore the sort of clothes similar in that photograph, would you? I mean those were your Sunday clothes, were they, in the photograph?
Yes. Yes.
And when you got home, did you keep them on the whole day or did you change?
All day. When we dressed on Sunday morning, we had to keep ourselves clean and quiet and we had them on for the day, and they weren't put on any more until the next Sunday.
And when you said you went for that walk with your Mother after the Sunday School and you had to be very quiet, do you mean you couldn't lark about at all, that kind of thing, on a Sunday?
Well, we ... we weren't far out of Mother's reach, you see. If we larked about at all it was only to jump a ditch or play with each other. There was no roughing and running about.
Did she talk to you?
Yes. Yes. She used to mostly admire the countryside. The plantation was mostly - down here, the big woods there - and we used to think it was wonderful to see the primroses and the bluebells. They're still my favourite flowers, bluebells. I suppose it's because of my boyhood. I thought how wonderful the primroses and bluebells were in the woods.
And your Mother was interested in nature - fond of things like that?
Very. Yes. Our homes were lit with the candles or by paraffin lamps standing in the middle of the table and they gave quite a bit of warmth, too. Sometimes we were short of candles and short of paraffin. The lamp glass burst but we had nothing else. The Green then was a very dark place. Everybody seemed to have the dark curtains up to keep the draught out of the window or to stop people from seeing them, I expect. I know we had a thick curtain up. And this home of mine, it was very humble. We were very poor - I said that before. Wages were low and sometimes the lamp glass would break so we were reduced to a candle sometimes, if we had a candle, and... or we were without paraffin. Something would happen so that very often we had to go to bed early. Shops were closed. There was no candle, no lamp on the table. But we had a lot of fun with this. Mother breaking the lamp glass sometimes.
Was it easy to break it?
Yes. Very easy. My Father said my Mother was very heavy handed. You see, this lamp on the table in the centre of the room was standing right underneath a wooden beam that we had across the room and after a while it was scorched with these paint bubbles, you see, and Mother was afraid that the house would get on fire some time, so she persuaded Father to put a piece of tin up there, and it was weeks and weeks before he did. Quite often we hadn't got the tools, anyway. Not a nail - if we'd got a hammer we hadn't got a nail, and so on. Anyway, one night Father said 'We'll put that bit of tin up in case this beam catches alight', so we pushed the table back and Father got a hammer and a nail which was far too long, anyway. The first thing he did was hit his thumb. Mother said, 'did you hurt your finger?' Father just glared as much as to say could you hit your thumb without hurting of it? Anyway, he tried again and the next thing happened, the head of the hammer fell off and nearly hit somebody in the eye. We never had any tools in those days. We just hadn't got things, you see. And he put the hammer head on again and he had another go and at last he got it fixed. This bit of tin - I think it was the top of a black lead tin that we used for the fireplace - only a frail kind of bit of tin - and it was loose, it hung there loosely. I nearly got a clip over the ear because I said, 'you've made a good job of that, Dad'. Dad just glared. You know, he just glared. He didn't lift his finger to hurt me hardly at any time. He just glared at us and that bit of tin. It fascinated us for weeks and weeks because when the lamp was directly under it, you see, it rocked and rolled all the evening. Sometimes it even spun round with the heat from the lamp. Going back to the lamp glass. Sometimes, Mother would light it early in the evening, turn her back and it was up too high and crash went the lamp glass, you see, and smoked. And sometimes the shop would be closed, we had no more lamp glass in and perhaps no money, so for the rest of the evening we were with candlelight. And Mother would take the glass down and get a bit of stick and a bit of rag on the end of the stick and try to clean it when it was hot. It was fatal. Bang. The glass smashed again on another occasion. And on another occasion, she would bring the bowl on the table to wash the crocks up in from the kitchen. It was too dull in the kitchen, too cold and a drop of water would go on the lamp glass. Bang, goes the lamp glass. She was always breaking lamp glasses.
It seems they were very easy to break?
Very easy. They were only 5d but that was a lot of money if you hadn't got 5d. Father used to glare and - you don't mind if I talk in his dialect sometimes? He said 'you're a clumsy moller'. That's the old Essex word for a young girl or woman - 'moller' - and sometimes he would just glare and go to bed. And if Mother hadn't got a candle, we all went to bed. Perhaps that's the reason there was such large families in those days - they spent half their time in bed, I think.
Did he do any decorating in the house?
No. He just helped sometimes. He helped Mother paper the walls and the front door was facing the Green and the North-East wind sometimes would blow it open. He could never fix that latch. And so one day he came home with a big bolt. I suppose he got it off a barn door someplace, and he tapped that on the door so when the wind blew the door was locked - bolted, you see. That was the only way we could keep it closed. And at that time, I had an uncle who used to call every night, or nearly every night, for a cup of tea. He'd be working with a threshing machine, you know, all day long from about four in the morning 'till six at night, because he had to make the boiler up, you see, so that they could start punctual at 6 o'clock. Well, uncle came one night and found the door bolted, couldn't make anyone hear. We, kids, were making a noise, I expect, and the wind was blowing, so he kicked the door with his wooden leg; a peg they had then in those days (he had got a cork leg but it was gone for repair), so he put his wooden leg through the bottom panel of the door (laughter). Father swore. And poor uncle didn't come again for some weeks because he thought the door had been bolted against him. He thought we'd taken offence for something. And us kids, we used to ... When he had his cork leg, we used to follow him around just to hear the creak and groan of that cork leg, and we used to say, 'you're leg is making a funny noise, Uncle', so he said, 'yes, it wants oiling'. But that's by the way.
How had he lost his leg?
In the threshing machine. It was cut off in the threshing machine somewhere here, so that was a stump. It wasn't so big as my wrist, the end of it. But I didn't know that until some years later when he became ill. That's the one I told you played the accordion. And he became ill. I sat up with him for nearly a week, every night. I took him bottles of tea and jam sandwiches.
Were you a child then or is this when you were grown up?
I was getting on then in years. He woke up one night. I'd got him off to sleep, and he kicked the table over with soup and sandwiches and everything else. But I told the doctor then I couldn't do it any longer, I was too tired so he got the district nurse to come in. And I told her I couldn't lift him very well because he was so heavy and she said, 'no, you don't go the right way about it'. She was a cockney - cockney woman.
Miss Parfitt?
Miss Parfitt. You know her?
Yes, she delivered my baby.
Well, anyway. She kicked off her shoes and straddled him on the bed; stood one leg each side of him and put her arms round his back and hauled him up quite easily.
She's very strong.
Yes. He died soon after. I was ... At that time I left school at 12 1/2 and I went to work on this farm for 5/-d a week.
Yes. I'd like to hear more about that.
For five bob a week, from six in the morning until half past five at night, and 5 o'clock Saturdays. That was 5/-d for that week's work.
And was that usual for school leavers at that time?
Yes. They got a bit more if they were a little older, I think, because my brother at the same time was kitchen boy at another house. When he left school he got 7/6d. He was 18 months older than me, and later he went to work at the waterworks in this village and he got 10/-d a week. And then my eldest brother, who I told you was a ...
Studious type?
Studious and wouldn't work - he got a job. He got himself a girl first. He found that he wanted some money and he got a job as groom and gardener. By that time he was only about 16. We were doing men's work, you know, at those ages, and he got about 10 bob. So the three of us - we were grown up, of course - with the three of us there was more money going into the house and we began to live as we thought then like lords. Instead of going up to the shop for a quarter of this and a quarter of that and a pennyworth of this, we got half lbs, you see. We even had a quarter of best butter for Sunday Mother got, for once a week only out of that money. We had more fruit for the roly-poly puddings; a little stronger tea, more meat, a little more of everything because with Father's money going in and ours about 25/-d, you see, it was a lot better than just Father's money going in not regularly.
Obviously, this made a difference to the quality of the food you had. Do you think it made your Mother's life easier?
Well, we were grown up and eating more, you see, but my Mother gave to us instead of eating herself. There just wasn't the money - as she got it she seemed to have spend it on food but still going without herself.
Even at that time? You boys were eating more, do you think, then?
We were eating more. Yes. We were working harder, of course. And I don't remember Mother having anything much - only bread and marge. And sometimes when we'd had our dinner, one of us would say 'aren't you eating Mother today?' and she'd say 'Oh, no. I'll wait until your Dad comes home tonight' or 'when you've gone to school'. And perhaps she hadn't got enough for herself, you see.
You think she'd sometimes just say that so you wouldn't worry?
Yes. Even my Father said he didn't like butter. He couldn't eat butter. He liked margarine better than any butter there was. In later years we came to the conclusion that he only just said that to give us more butter. And we believe that my Mother actually died of starvation. She had no disease. As far as I remember it was ...she died of an acute anaemia. But she just didn't eat. She gave to us. We talked about that in later years and when we came to that conclusion we all cried to think of her what she suffered to give to us.
Do you think at the time you didn't realise this, when she died?
No. Not then, we didn't realise. We just slowly saw her fading away, getting thin and thinner and slowly walking about, always so slowly, never complaining about anything. She never complained.
How old was she when she died?
54 and Father was 85. Then, of course - then everything was hard for the people then. It was in nearly - nearly every household was the same. Sanitary arrangements were chronic, awful. Everything had to be flung on the garden. All the soap suds and the slops and no drains nowhere.
Did you have a sort of outside lavatory?
Yes. I will tell you about that now. The outside lavatory was down the bottom of the garden - just a little shed affair standing over a pit, you see, and the dirt went down this well and occasionally the whole lavatory was moved further on. It wasn't - we never knew the worst of toilet or lavatory in those days. They were called ... it was the privy, or closet, never no other word we used.
What's that word I've heard people use - of 'brundy' or 'bumph', something like that. Have you ever heard that word?
What for?
I thought it was a word for an outside privy, or something else?
'Bumph', it's been called.
Dialect?
I think that's a Suffolk word, actually. But we, in this village used 'privy' or 'closet'. Another thing we had when we were earning more money. For years we were washed with the red carbolic soap which was with you all day. It was supposed to be healthy to wash with that and we were delighted when Mother bought a little tablet of scented soap. And then there was this question of flies; millions of flies about in those days because we lived next door to a slaughterhouse and the filth was only taken away about twice a week in a large...
You were telling me about the flies.
And this tank at the slaughterhouse it was filled with all kinds of animals' insides, rabbit skins and all kinds of filth which encouraged flies, of course, and the house was always full of flies - our house. The tablecloth was always covered with flies - your bread and marge on your plate or jam. You had to brush the flies off before you could pick it up and eat it. I suppose you became immune from disease because of having so much of this filth. The jam jar was always full of flies. You had to shake them out before you could put your spoon or knife in. The milk on the table, full of flies. Always flies, everywhere. Millions. Anyone of my age will tell you about that because the village was full of horses. Nearly everybody had horses, geese, chickens, pigs and dogs.
What was done in the households to try and remove these flies? Did they have fly papers?
We had, at first, jam jars with a little beer in or a little jam left in the bottom with a piece of paper on top with a hole in so they used to get in and couldn't get out - one or two occasionally perhaps - but it used to trap them. And these jars were always being emptied on the garden. And then fly papers came on to the market which you unrolled and they were sticky and of all the places that Mother could hang one was over the table and occasionally they fell off on to the tablecloth. Father created and it was moved but we had ... In those days with these things happening, we had a lot of tears, but we had a lot of laughs, too. And sometimes if we complained about not having this or that, Father would say 'you should count what you've got, not what you haven't got'. I remember my eldest brother saying once, 'we haven't got much to count, Dad'. Father glared at him again. He always glared, he never said anything, but sometimes he thought we were being funny with him, you know. Mother used a stick sometimes, a little cane, but not violently. We had to be corrected, we wouldn't have been human if we - if they'd always been nice to the boys.
Can you remember any other punishments she had to give you sometimes or was it just the cane?
Usually a smack on the backside with the hairbrush with a handle on. I don't think this cane was ever used. She did once, accidentally, I'm sure ... She was cleaning our shoes before we went to school. Something I'd been naughty about and she threw the brush at me, not a great distance, and it hit me in the eye and I had a black eye. Mother cried about it. She didn't mean to do it, of course and I didn't blame her for it in later years and not then. But you know, that black eye got me the nickname of 'Shiner' for the rest of my life. There's one or two people in the village who I went to school with call me Shiner, just because of that. But my parents weren't cruel at all. They only used to correct us properly.
In your upbringing, can you remember the kind of rules and the sort of things they told you about - how to behave and how to do your best in life - and this kind of thing?
Yes. We had particularly to respect the schoolmaster and the clergyman and the doctor. We had, then, to raise our forefinger to him and say 'good morning, sir'. Always, 'sir'. And we were taught, of course, never to be rude to people or answer back.
Any people?
Anybody, or even talk at the table too much.
Were you allowed to talk a little?
A little, yes, but just not laugh and giggle and run on stupidly or anything like that. We seemed to sense that our parents, without using the stick, were firm with us. We seemed to obey them mostly by a look.
And can you remember whether if you were hit by another boy, what their attitude would be?
Well, they said, at least, my Father did (not my Mother), my Father said 'if anyone hits you, you must hit him back'. He, I believe, believed in an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. And he wouldn't, as I believe they do today, he wouldn't go and threaten this other boy. We had to stand on our own feet was his motto. Mother used to say 'wait 'til I see this boy's parents' or something like that. My Father, no. He wouldn't. We'd got to defend ourselves. If we got hit, we'd got to hit back which we did. We used to fight quite a bit then.
Your Mother wouldn't have disapproved of your defending yourself?
No, no.
And do you remember any other moral rules they used to give you about behaving, and right and wrong, and this kind of thing?
Well, I think they accepted with our teaching from the schoolteachers and being choir boys, from the vicar's wife and the vicar. I don't think they had much reason to make any rules themselves because I believe we were more or less sociable and polite people with our teaching from the school and the vicarage.
Yes, and I suppose, too, your parents' own example?
Yes. We ... They were kind and good to us and they used no bad language. Of course, we grew up as they did really as far as I remember.
And do you remember what their attitude was when you went out to work? When you got this first job, do you remember them giving you any kind of ideas about how you should conduct yourself at work?
Yes, of course, we had to ... First of all to get there at the proper time. If it was six, Mother saw that we got there at six. Not once saying 'never mind today, you're late. Can't help it'. No. They tried their best to get us to school on time and to work on time and, of course, in those days you really had to. Your boss would see to that.
When you arrived at work at six - when you took your first full-time job - how did you announce that you were there? There wasn't clocking-in presumably?
Well, as kitchen boy I had my first job. Your duties always seemed to be to enter the house and pick up your master's shoes and clean them or do some other indoor job so that they knew you were there, you see.
Was that the intention, do you think?
I think so. You see, they wouldn't allow you to go to work at six in the morning and your job was a couple of miles away. It seemed that you had to enter the house for some reason or other.
Even if it meant you had to leave later to go somewhere else?
That's right, yes. Particularly in my case, I remember. I had to enter the house and first job was to pump water from an old fashioned pump.
Was this your kitchen boy's job or your next job?
It was in my kitchen boy's job and also when I left school and worked there all day.
When you took your first full-time job at 121/2 years, did you continue with some of your kitchen boy duties then?
I did all the kitchen boy's duties, and then went in the garden, you see, and helped the gardener and then each gardener - this was in 1914 and onwards, joined the Army and more and more I was responsible for the garden at an early age. And then the farmer used to take me with him in a pony and trap to open the gates and close the gates behind him.
That was all you did?
Oh, and other jobs, too, many other jobs on the farm.
Such as what?
Helping the men in the farmer's field pull down the tranes - they call them - of corn when they'd been damp, wet and then help them stand them up again. As a boy I worked with quite a lot -with four or five men. I was the only boy there at that time. After my kitchen duties, I was on the farm with the men driving the horses away with wagon loads of corn when the huge horses would take no notice of my tiny voice - my quiet voice. If I said 'whoa' they didn't know what I was talking about. I don't think they ever even heard me and they'd never 'whoa' or even go sometimes unless I whacked 'em with a stick. They'd been used to gruff shouts from the men, you see. I had to work very hard at that age - 13 and 14.
Do you remember when it was first suggested by your farmer employer that you work full time? He went to the school, didn't he?
He came to the school. You see, the other boys in my class had all left for work on the farms and other jobs. The men used to go for the bake-house and for the farms. And this farmer went and saw my schoolmaster and said could I leave and work all day. I was the only boy left out of a class of six and he wanted the biggest boy and I was the only one so I was the biggest - and not very big at that - and that's how we got away from school at that early age. Mr Woods, the butcher - do you know the butcher, Mr Woods, work in Jarvy's? He's one of those who left at an early age. He's been in the butchers - been there ever since.
Is he the man with grey hair?
Yes, brushed well back. He's about my age.
Very neat hair?
Yes.
And when it was suggested that you leave school and take this job, what did you feel about it?
Well, delighted. Very.
Delighted for what particular reason?
To leave school, that was the first and foremost reason. I wasn't worried about the money or nothing. I just - knowing the other boys had left school I just wanted to leave school.
And do you think having this first job - did it alter your life at all? Did you see yourself and other people differently? Did you learn anything from it in that kind of way? Because you'd been working for about 3 years anyway, hadn't you?
Yes. Well, I don't remember what I really thought about life then. I just took life as it came along on the whole. I don't remember ever being bitter with my lot or being jealous of other people's goods. In fact, there didn't seem to be anybody much better off than me in this village not even the farmers. They seemed to wear odd clothes and old clothes and old boots and shoes. No one seemed to be wealthy in those days. It was only in later years that ....
You were saying as a child some of the trades people and their children were - made you feel inferior.
Oh, yes. Yes. The tradesmen's children who were better dressed.
But do you think this was more with them than with the farming people that you thought it was different?
Yes, yes.
Because the farmer you worked for was a working farmer, wasn't he, not the sort of farmer that sits....?
No, he wasn't a gentleman farmer. Yes.
And can you remember how you got along with the men when you worked with them?
Very well. Very well. I did. They knew that I was only a boy and they didn't put on extra hard work on me because I was a boy. If they could they would give me the easiest jobs. But then again, we tried to do the hard jobs, even though we were young. The hard work came to us very quickly and most of us became strong. As I said, we were having more food when we were earning more money. And later we were better dressed because Mother paid in a shilling a week all the year round to a man who sold clothes. That's how we got our suits, you see.
Was it a form of club?
A club. A kind of club. And of course, clothes were cheap then. I say cheap - as I said before - nothing was cheap if you hadn't the money but compared with today, I mean, the clothes were cheap.
And did she pay into any other kind of clubs, for boots, for Christmas food or anything like that?
No, the only other club she paid in was a doctor's club. Oh, yes. There was a doctor's club which was half a crown a month. It seems little for a family of five people. Half a crown a month. That wasn't much but it always seemed to come round, this month. No. I think I'm wrong. I think it was half a crown a quarter. Yes, it is. I feel sure of that. A quarter. And then there was another club.
The half a crown - did it cover all of you or was your Father covered by the other insurance?
No. It covered all of us.
Your Father wasn't covered by any insurance?
There was no insurance in those days. When I was a boy there was no insurance or unemployment for a man in those days. We paid 3d a week for the hospital if it became necessary.
If you were actually in hospital you paid 3d a week?
That's right, yes, in a club. 3d a week covered everything when you had to go to hospital.
You mean your Mother paid this regularly whether you were in hospital or not?
That's right, yes.
3d a week for any of you?
That's right. Yes. Covered the whole family and half a crown a quarter for our local doctor.
And if you needed the doctor, did this mean you got his services free?
Yes, everything.
And what about medicine?
That covered medicine - everything. Yes.
And who organised that club? I've never heard of that before.
It was the old Doctor Athill.
He organised that, did he?
Yes, he organised that himself. Yes. I remember as a boy going to Pond House with this money each quarter and Mother had a little book.
Why do you think he organised it?
Because he was a friend of the poor. Yes. He was a friend of the poor people. And I remember it being said on many occasions that if people just hadn't got the money, then he just went to them just the same or gave them medicine just the same. There was no unemployment then, no sickness pay from the State at all. If Father was ill, which I don't remember him ever being ill, but ...not to stay at home, but he wouldn't have got any money or unemployment pay.
Were there any sports clubs that you belonged to that functioned in the village at that time?
There was only the cricket and the football clubs. There was nothing else.
Did you belong to either of those?
Yes.
And were they quite active clubs?
Very. As I grew up, I became captain of the cricket club for many years. And I played football for the club for many years. We had quite good teams in those days. That's when we were growing up. We were 17 or 18, of course.
Did people from all classes play in the clubs - at that time?
Yes.
Somebody once told me that today it's mostly just the farmers and their sons join or is that not true, do you think? Have the clubs changed?
Yes. Yes. That is true. In those days when I was a boy, there was the Gt Bentley Green Club, which was composed of local farmers and, we'll say, intellectuals - the class - classy people -the district surveyor and the farmers' sons and the farmers and other people who were wealthy, we'll say. And so the other men in the village who could play cricket but weren't accepted by these people, started a club of their own called The Victory Club. But they weren't allowed to play, only on the roughest part of the Green - the poorer classes. ... And there was in the Victory Club, the poor club, a very good player - a good bowler and the Bentley Green Club poached him from the other club. So there was one poor boy playing with the rich people and forever after that man was called Cocky. Cocky Butcher was his name because he put on airs and graces because of playing with the gentlemen.
It affected his whole way of behaving with people?
It did, yes. And he had two daughters. They're still in the village. They're married and I won't mention their names but they became just as stiff and starchy, and are now to this day.
It really turned his head, then, getting into that club?
Yes. It did. He was a bricklayer. But before then he was a man who thought himself just above the ordinary man who worked on the farm and the - with the threshing machines.
Do they still have two clubs today?
No. It's the same club.
When was this that the Victory Club was started - do you remember the year?
This was about - this is just hearsay. I'm telling you - it may have been in existence round about 1900, or after, just after, but I just don't remember it myself.
You heard about the Victory Club, you mean?
I just heard about The Victory Club.
The club that you played in ...
Being connected with the Cricket Club, you see, I've heard about this from old cricketers.
But the club that you played in yourself - what was that one called?
It was the Gt Bentley Club. Gt Bentley Cricket Club.
So the Victory one faded out then, did it?
Yes. I should think it faded out, perhaps, when I was a year or two old 'cos I don't remember that club at all.
So by the time that you were playing in it, all classes were participating in it?
All classes. There was no snobbery whatever. There was some nice young chaps. Young farmers played and ex-captains and colonels from the Forces.
And the farm workers?
And the farm workers and road workers.
And they all got along perfectly well?
Very well. Yes. There's been no snobbery in the cricket team or the football team since I was old enough to play. No snobbery whatever. But there was in the early days. When I was 12 or 13 years old there was this ... Although, it was called the Gt Bentley Cricket Club and there was only that club, and there was some poor classes in that team, there was still a little distinction.
How did this show itself?
Well. By the order of the men going in to bat. Irrespective of whether he was good player or not, if he was a - of the lower class - he went in lower down the list. At that time, the captain of the team was a man named Mr Lines. He was the district surveyor. He lived in White Lodge, down the bottom of the Green. You may have heard of White Lodge. Him and his son and four or five farmers were in that team and I remember my brother who was a very good cricketer indeed, my middle brother, and one or two more of the poorer classes, were always lower down in the list. But they had tea together and they got on fairly well, but there was a little distinction. Where sometimes, if a man's name was Captain, or Colonel so-and-so and he was a poor cricketer, he would get in the team before me even if I was a good cricketer, you see.
Simply because of his status?
Because of his status. I became a very good cricketer, too, and in the same team with a man named Captain Souter. He couldn't play for toffee but he was always in the team and in those days we played cricket every night, had plenty of practise which you need to play any ball game - plenty of practise - and we became better players than some of these social people. And down at Frinton, I remember once, I went in to bat and I got over 60 runs, compared with this Captain Souter - nothing. And when I came out he said 'you know, young H. [family name]', no 'Cliff', or 'Mr H. [family name]' or anything like that. He said 'that's a very good knock but you've got no style'. As if it mattered! Runs on the board meant everything, style didn't count. But you see, that was the type of man we did have to deal with sometimes. The snobbery came out like that occasionally.
Would it be pretty usual for those people to call you H. [family name]?
Yes.
They wouldn't call you the name as they'd call each other, by your first name ?
No. No. That was Christian names with them, but ... There was three in that team; my brother and I and another chap named Herbert and we were always called 'H. [family name]' or 'Herbert' - never by our Christian names.
Always to keep that difference between you?
Yes. And on the score sheet there was the initials given to these men and it has been in County Cricket until recently. B Z Clark, E M Lines. I think were two more initials. But H. [family name], Herbert, H. [family name]. You see what I mean.
And when did that stop, that sort of practice of making ...?
It stopped after the last war. This sort of thing happened ... Well, perhaps it stopped a few years before the war. I think it did. But it was in the village when I was first in the cricket team and we hated it. But we felt that we couldn't complain about it. We either hadn't the courage or felt it wasn't proper.
But you did definitely at the time resent it? You didn't take it for granted as people might have done, say, 50 years before?
We used to talk about it and we resented it, but in those days, you know, you wouldn't open your mouth too wide otherwise you'd lose your job, you see. In fact, my brother and this other chap, Herbert, worked for the County Surveyor and they just had to keep their mouths closed, you see.
So what would you call the County Surveyor? At this time, I mean, in the cricket team?
He was captain.
You called him 'captain' whatever his name was?
No. 'mister'. No, we didn't call him ...he was captain of the team.
Sorry, I thought you meant he'd been a captain.
No.
And did you have cricket club dances or anything like that?
Yes. Yes. To raise money we had cricket club dances.
And how did the women get on then - the women of the different classes - when they were together?
Very well. They seemed to get on better than the men. They used to - at the dances - they used to be very friendly with each other and so they did at the cricket teas - providing the cricket teas on the match days. Quite friendly.
What age were you when you first started playing for the cricket club?
I should think I was 14 or 15, and this is a point you've been on about. I loved cricket so much that I used to hang around the cricket pavilion at an early age hoping to get a game, you see, hoping someone would drop out. And the local surveyor knew me very well and my Father and brother because my Father had worked at that time for the local Council, you see. And I used to hang round for a game if I could, even sock it to Clacton and Frinton and Walton hoping to get a game of cricket but I only had an old pair of blue trousers on and white plimsolls. I was about 14 or 15, I expect. And sometimes I got a game and done very well and that was how I got into the senior team eventually. But some of the men, when someone didn't turn up, and I was playing not dressed properly in white clothes, they were toffee nosed about it. They would have preferred to have anybody as long as he was properly dressed. It didn't matter if he held the bat upside down, he was still in the team, and they didn't like my style of dress but I hadn't got any white clothes at that time. So this Captain of the team, Mr Lines, gave me a pair of trousers which Mother cut down to size. Spent a lot of time on getting them clothes to size. And you know, that was months and months I had these trousers and I had these slippers and I had a white shirt. I didn't get a game for months and months even though I was all ready, longing for a game. But, eventually, I did and my brother and I and this Herbert were in the team regularly with the gents, after all that.
Because your cricket was so good they couldn't do without you?
Yes. They couldn't drop us very well because I've got photos and medals to prove it sometimes which we won in league cups and so on. But we were rather shy of these people. At the tea table, we always kept together, you know, and sometimes we were hardly ever spoken to and, of course, we didn't speak to anyone.
You mean you don't remember one of them who had that easy, natural manner of mixing well with everybody?
No. No. They didn't. It only died out just before the war when, I think, farmers became either two busy to play cricket or weren't any good at cricket, more of the village boys came in the team.
They got more balanced, do you mean?
Yes. Of latter year, there's been more poorer classes than any in a cricket team. Every boy in those days had a catapult to shoot at birds, mostly, rabbits, rats, windows, people's cats. And often a person would complain of a cat being shot at, or a window broken, to the schoolmaster and he would have us all in front of the class - turn out our pockets - which ...almost always we had our catapults and he would promptly throw them on the fire. That's quite true. Can I tell you a story about an eccentric boy who came to school then? His name was Webb. He had to come about a couple of miles. He got the nickname of Bunny Webb because we used to bully him and he used to bring us a baby rabbit to put in our hutches in our gardens and he was always late and the schoolmaster said 'late again, Webb'. 'No, Mr Headmaster' - he always called him headmaster - 'No, Mr Headmaster. It's your clock fast again. You're always fast. My Father's got a clock that's always the right time. It's a Grandfather clock that's better than that old clock you've got up there', he used to say.
It wasn't usual to talk to headmasters like that then, was it?
Yes, but he did, you see, and he got away with it. And the headmaster used to try and shut him up. 'Shut up, Webb' and the boy said, 'as I was coming along the Green this morning, I heard the bell go and, I thought to myself, they've gone in early again this morning'. We always went in early - he was never late. 'Mr Headmaster ...' He kept on backing away from the desk when he was first asked to go to the headmaster's desk - when he first went into school and the headmaster was following him up with the cane in his hand, and he still chatted. This boy still chatted and the schoolmaster didn't hit him at all. He'd just put his hand over his face and try to hide the smile and we saw the twinkle in his eye. But we looked for this nearly every morning - this little interlude after prayers.
It was a regular thing, was it?
Yes. 'Away comes Webb in, late again', and there was always this little chat. It lasted ten minutes, sometimes.
And he never hit him?
Never hit him. 'Mr Headmaster, my Father's clock is always right' he'd say.
That must have been pretty unusual in those days to talk to a headmaster like that.
Yes. Yes, but he was the only boy I knew who could talk to the headmaster like that.
Why was he like that, that boy, do you think? How did he have this nerve?
I think because he lived two miles away he never mixed with other boys, and lots of them, the classes of those days, had to walk three or four miles to school on bread and jam. Always on about bread and jam aren't I? But it was so. And some of them had to cross muddy fields. They had to clean their boots before they could go in school 'cos the caretaker had to provide buckets and bits of rag to wipe the mud off their boots. Miles, they used to walk.
It's quite a thought that, doing all that on not a very good diet.
The diet was poor. Sometimes the boys had eaten their food long before dinner - what little they had and, of course ...
You mean the food they brought with them for dinner, they ate before dinner?
Yes, and it was nearly always bread and jam. The usual bread and jam.
They'd bring that for their dinner?
Yes. And poor little devils were nearly always dirty; dirty clothes. They had no soap, no food, no shoes hardly to their feet, some of them, when I went to school. But this Mr Richardson, that was the schoolmaster's name, he was a stern man, but very just. He was a good master.
Do you think he understood something of the conditions in which the boys lived and the struggles their parents had?
Yes. Yes. He did. And he was delighted if, after school hours, you went back and asked him a question. I told you my Father was a thatcher and when he thatched about ten or a dozen stacks for about 10 pounds - take him a month to five weeks. They were measured, you see, with a piece of string and a-stone tied on it which was thrown ever the top of the stack. Eave to eave, you see, was measured and then the length of the stack so that you got so many squares in the stack and you got so much money per square. A shilling, I think it was. Mostly stacks were about 10 square and you got about a shilling a square. And one farmer, he lived where he lives now, a man named Brooks, disputed my figures once because, although I was only about 13, I used to count up the stacks. And my figures were disputed by the farmer named Brooks, down there. So I took my figures back to the school. He wouldn't pay my Father. I took my figures back to the schoolmaster. He was delighted to correct them. Another wouldn't have been back to learn how to count squares; square stacks. And my figures were correct. So the next day when we went back to the farm, the farmer was so angry to find my figures correct, he threw the money on the floor, on the grass. He was a lunatic, this man, or near lunatic, Brooks. And 10 golden sovereigns he threw in the grass, like that. And my Father got him by the scruff of the neck, bent him over and made him pick them up and give them to him. Do you know, he could only find nine sovereigns. One had rolled away somewhere and my Father made him give another one - his 10 sovereigns - and forever after, that man, the farmer, swore blind that one of us boys had picked that sovereign up from what Father had, and had got another sovereign out of him, but we didn't. It was never found, as far as I know, not by us, anyway. So, as I say, the schoolmaster was glad for us to go and see him because knowing we left school early and our education was next to nothing, really, he tried to help us after school hours and asked us repeatedly to go and see him.
After you'd actually left school?
Yes. If we needed him - any help or advice.
Did you do it on any other occasions besides to learn how to count the squares? Did you ever go back on any other occasions?
I don't think I did. No. I don't think I had occasion to.
Did he live in the village?
Yes. In School House. But that farmer was a terrible man.
Your Father could stand up for himself, couldn't he?
Oh, yes.
It was a terrible thing to do, to throw the money down like that.
My Father worked for him for many years, thatching stacks and there was always trouble between them. I believe Father manhandled him two or three times for different reasons. Mother said, 'I don't know why you work for that lunatic', but Father said, 'Well, I've got to get the money from somewhere and if I don't work for him perhaps I couldn't get enough work from someone else'. Although, he used to get plenty of work in the summer. We weren't so hard up, you know, in the summertime when Father was earning more money. But it seemed to go as fast as Father got more money, Mother would spend it on extra food.
Obviously, you just didn't have enough to save?
No. There wasn't nothing to save. And before we left school - the three brothers were going to school - we used to look forward to our five week summer holiday, and for why? It was only to work hard. And we used to go to work at daybreak, half past four or five. Not me elder brother who was the studious one, the middle brother with Father - day after day for this solid five weeks, unless it rained. From daybreak 'til dark, nearly. Some bread and cheese and then - we had a few extras then. Mother used to buy a little jar of potted meat, shrimp paste. They still make them now, don't they?
Yes.
Ham and tongue, and so on. We thought that was wonderful to have that put on our margarine. We used to go off with our own little pack of food for the day. Father had a bottle of cold tea - no sugar or milk - 'cos if it had milk it would have gone sour, you see, in the summer months, and my brother and I had a bottle of lemonade each. We used to go to the shop and get a pennyworth of lemonade crystals. A pennyworth, mind you, and you got an ounce for a penny, which made two pints, and that was our drink for the day. Usually it was gone long before dinner and we had to drink water for the rest of the day. And it was five weeks we worked every day, my brother and I, and it was our summer holiday.
What time did you knock off?
Oh, eight, nine. Depended on the size of the stack, if Father wanted to finish the stack, you see.
Did you always work with your Father?
Yes, for those summer holidays.
Did you get any money for that?
Yes, we had 3d each per week, pocket money.
Did your Father do better for your work? Did he get more because you helped him?
Oh, yes. We were a great help. You must remember that boys from nine to 14 were men, nearly, in those days, you know.
And that summer holidays - was that your holidays from school?
Yes.
Did you have any holidays after you started your full-time work, after you left school?
No. Nobody had holidays then.
What days off did you get then - I mean public holidays?
We get Christmas Day, and Easter Monday, not Good Friday we didn't. Had to work Good Friday.
Even in the afternoon?
All day. Yes. I remember working on this farm after I'd left school. It was a sore point with the men in those days because the farmer and his family went to church on Good Friday which is the important day of the year for sincere churchgoers. They could go but we had to work. He made us work and we were very angry but we couldn't do anything about it. And I was angry because at that time I was in the church choir and I thought it was wonderful, Good Fridays and Easter in the choir. We seemed to have more people in the church; bigger choir. And I liked the hymns better, those Easter hymns, 'All are Safely Gather'd in' and 'Now Thank We All Our God'. Oh, no, that was the Harvest Festival, that hymn, of course. And we used to say why was it that in this supposed to be Christian country, why weren't everyone allowed to go to church and follow their religion, their beliefs on Good Friday.
You'd say that amongst each other?
Each other.
Did you never actually ask him if you could go?
No. No one did dare ask a farmer anything then. You'd get the sack. He'd have got the sack. You had to be very careful how you spoke to your boss in those days.
Do you remember whether in Gt Bentley there was any Trade Union activity at that time? There was in some parts of Essex.
It wasn't until, I should think ... I was quite a boy ... maybe before the war, I think it was. I should think it might have been in 1910 or '11. There was what was called a Workers' Union started in this village. Why I remember it was because my uncle worked for this Brooks, this lunatic.
Was that the one with the wooden leg?
No. Another one. Another uncle. My Mother's brother, this was. He was head horseman at that farm and he'd been there for many years and this Mr Brooks had told him he was such a good servant he would leave him in his Will. Well, my uncle was a staunch - let's say he became a staunch Union member - and I believe for this village he became secretary or treasurer, I don't remember. And Mr Brooks heard of it and he was furious that he should be a member of a trade union. But he stuck to his guns, and old Brooks kept him on, but he never left him anything in his Will. Probably he never would have done, anyway, but that's what he said. But that was the first start of trade unions in this village.
You remember hearing about it in connection with your uncle, when you were a boy?
'What's right, because - perhaps if it hadn't been for my uncle and these words spoken by my Father and Mother, and my uncle who used to come to our house frequently, I shouldn't have known anything about it. So I think that was before the '14-'18 war started. But he stuck to his guns, my uncle did. He feared no one. I told you just now that some of us feared our bosses but he didn't. And he used to come out of The Plough on Saturday nights, after a couple of pints of beer, and stand on that little pitch of grass in front of Mr Jarvis' and try to raise members for the Union. Tell them why it was essential. And it was essential for the farm workers, for all of us to stand together, and he got recruits, very slowly but he got them to the annoyance of the local farmers. But he did stick to his guns. He had courage, that uncle, and that was - he was one of the first to start the Trade Union in this village. It was called the Workers' Union.
Was it workers from all different trades and jobs?
Yes. Yes. It was mostly for farm workers; men with threshing machines and so on, you see.
Did you ever join it?
No. I should have done.
Do you know if your Father joined?
I don't think he did. I'm not sure about that but I don't think he did.
Do you know what the dues were?
Only 6d a week, I think, that's all.
Do you remember any other activity of the Union, like meetings or a strike that they organised, or anything?
Not in this village. I don't remember them taking part in anything. But I do remember this. When the Workers' Union was gradually becoming stronger, we had a half-day on Saturdays - if you could call it a half day - that was from two 'til five. We left off at 1 o'clock and didn't go back any more until Monday. At that time, that old farmer had died.
Brooks, you mean?
No. This was where I was kitchen boy. Where I worked as a kitchen boy - and the new farmer who bought the farm. Mother told me to ask the foreman if he could give me a job - the new farmer. And I asked him - I was still the only boy on that farm - and he said, 'yes, I think I'll see the boss. I think we can give you a job. How much do you want?' Well, my Mother said, 'ask for eight shillings'. I'd been getting five, you see. She thought I deserved a rise. I was getting older and I asked for eight and I got it.
How old were you then?
I should think about 14 or 15. And I remember the Union got a half a day for the farm workers because it was 5 o'clock on Saturdays as a rule, half past five other nights, from six in the morning. Do you know the men were afraid to leave off for that half day? Some of them went back again. They were afraid of the boss. Even though the Union had given instructions to Union members that they must have a half a day on Saturdays. And I think it was weeks before they all had the courage to leave off at 1 o'clock, fearing that they would get the sack. But gradually - and non-Union members as well, I think - some of them were angry with other men because they weren't members of the Union. They thought they should keep at work if they weren't members of this Union. But two or three of them, I remember, had the courage soon as they had the word from the Union to leave off, they left off and chanced their luck. They never got the sack. You see, I remember that 'cos I was on the farm when that happened. And I feel sure that was round about 1900. Well, I don't know because I feel that I was 14 or 15 years old and yet if it had been before the '14-'18 War, I wasn't so old, you see. I'm not sure of the date. Maybe.
It was round about then?
Round about then. And that was the first benefit men received from the Union - a half day. But later on I think men's wages then were about 1 pound a week, and slowly but surely the Union gained strength and authorised - stated that the men had got to receive another shilling or two shillings rise, and gradually that money went up from 1 pound to 29/3d. Insurance stamp was 9d each, 9d for the worker and 9d from the boss, 1/6d altogether, you see. So after paying his stamp, he had 19/3d, I think. Yes, it would be, wouldn't it? The wages went up to 30/-d a week, and he got 29/3d up to 1938. That was a farm worker's wages then. Yes, it was because - I should know because I was working on the farm at that time. And then - you don't know Dr Athill, of course.
No.
His wife, anyway. He stopped me one day going to work on the farm and said that his gardener was leaving him, would I like to go and work for him. He'd seen me go to work every morning at 6 o'clock on my cycle, he said, regular hours and he thought that I would be the man for him. So I said 'yes, I think I'd like to work for you Sir'. He said 'the job is worth two guineas a week and I jumped at that after only getting 29/3d.
That was a good bit up from that.
That was in 1931 and I got two guineas a week.
Was he paying more for that kind of work than the average, do you think?
Yes.
Because he was a good man?
Yes. I think he was a just man and he felt that a chauffeur and gardener - that's what I went as - should get decent money. And that was quite a rise, wasn't it? And I was getting that until I joined the Army in 1940.
Do you remember the Union having any meetings - any big meetings during the period that we're concentrating on - I mean up to 1918?
I think they had them only in the pub, mostly. The early meetings. But I don't remember it ever being a big meeting or a meeting of arguments. I think men joined quietly and on Saturday nights they went to the pub and paid their subscription; perhaps chatted about different things.
You mentioned this Farmer Brooks and his attitude. Do you know anything about the other attitudes of the farmers in the village? If there were any, for example, who were in favour?
As far as I remember they weren't very agreeable but I don't remember them sacking any men because of it. Because by that time, you see, I think things were slowly but surely improving. But the farmers then wouldn't sack a man so easily as they did in the early 1900's. I think by 1910 and onwards, they were loathe to part with a man.
Why do you think that was - shortage of workers?
I think then there was quite a bit of building going on in Clacton and Walton and Frinton, and men were going to - as bricklayers, as my Father did, as I told you, and they were leaving the village to go bricklaying, you see. And then the war broke out and there was a slump in bricklaying even after the war. They built a few Council houses and... the '14-'18 War and there weren't many buildings going up even then. There was very little - a lot of unemployed up to 1926, wasn't there? If you remember or may know, the men then had to go back to the farms again and the farmers were glad of them. They weren't so easily sacked. They began to become more outspoken, to have more courage, men did. Things were gradually improving, weren't they throughout the 1900's? Slowly but surely.
Do you remember any general elections or any other elections in the village between 1900 and 1918? Any political activity?
Yes. There was the Liberals and the Conservatives, as usual, as they are to-day. I remember my Father was a Liberal one year and Conservative the next, depending on whom he worked for. But I do remember our cottage was decorated sometimes with blue ribbons and anything blue, and sometimes it was yellow.
When you say 'depending on whom he worked for', why exactly was this?
Well, there was still a little fear of the consequence. If your boss was a Conservative and you were Liberal, see. There was no Labour Government then - Liberal and Conservative. But there was a little fear. And do you remember, I told you, Father paid 10 pounds a year for rent to a man named Newman who lived where Cudmore's place was. Well, he was a Liberal. That man was a Liberal, so my Father was a Liberal, believing, perhaps, that he should keep on the right side of him to keep the roof over his head. He might have thought if he'd been Conservative, he might have got chucked out of the house. They did things like that, you know, they could do it. Throw you out at a moment's notice. And I think my Father got his rent pretty reasonable because he painted the house sometimes and done a little decorating for him. And I told you my Father was a bit of a vet. He used to look after horses in the village to the best of his ability. He seemed to know quite a bit about animals my Father did, sheep especially. So perhaps that's why he got the rent, 10 pounds a year.
Do you know if your Father himself had any convictions about politics or was he indifferent?
Indifferent. Yes, he was. He wasn't a man who could get up on a tub and talk. He was quiet... I was telling you how we became better off when we were all at work and Father was taking this money in the summertime with his thatching. Well, that money used to go mostly on clothes for the year, then. There used to be a cheap jack, called a cheap jack who would come outside the pub with stalls selling workers' clothes, overalls and cord trousers and boots, and crockery and shirts and things that were necessary and that's where most of Father's money had to go then, you know, to buy clothes for himself and for us. Because apart from this shilling a week that she paid in to this man for our clothes, you weren't going to get enough clothes for 5 people for 52/-d a year, were you? But I mean, she had to spend or buy clothes within that amount, you see. Whereas, when they did have some more money they did buy extra clothes. And there was Father's work which was nearly always dirty work - he wanted more clothes, you see - wearing the knees out of his trousers with thatching and the backs out of his waistcoat and shirts always being wet from taking the straw up on the stack. So he needed quite a lot of clothes. And then, of course, they used to walk five or ten miles a day and more shoes were wanted.
Did your Mother - I remember you told me last week that she was a good needlewoman - I suppose she made a lot of your sister's clothes?
Yes. Yes.
Did she make a lot of your own clothes - for the men in the family?
She made nearly all our clothes; the children's clothes.
As children, did she?
If you saw on the photograph those ... my clothes, anyway. I think the suits were my brothers' first suits they'd got on in that picture. But my clothes were always made out of some kind of material that Mother would have given her, or perhaps get from a rummage sale, or something like that. Yes, I well remember that - her making my clothes. Usually velvet - I don't know where she got the velvet from - but to make things pretty she used to put some little pearl buttons, down here, I remember them - little white buttons, down here. You see them on the picture, didn't you? She was a good Mother. Saturday nights were bath night. We were called in from the Green at seven o'clock every Saturday night, and we wanted to play, but we knew we had to go.
Yes, you were saying she called you in?
For bath night. And in front of the fire was the rather big galvanised bath and on the fireplace were three or four saucepans of water, kettle and all.
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