Transcript Detail
| Transcript Title | Burgess, Ruth (O1996.32) |
| Interviewee | Miss Ruth Burgess (RB) |
| Interviewer | Peter Ruffles (PR) |
| Date | 20/08/1996 |
| Transcriber by | Irene Garrard-Storey |
Transcript
Hertford Oral History Group
Recording no: O1996.32
Interviewee: Miss Ruth Burgess (RB)
Date: 20th August, 1996
Venue: Letty Green
Interviewer: Peter Ruffles (PR)
Transcriber: Irene Garrard-Storey
Typed by: Irene Garrard-Storey
************** unclear recording
[discussion] untranscribed material
italics editor’s notes
RB: I've put them both away somewhere safe. I can't find them and I don't think she would have banked them.
PR: No, well they might turn up.
RB: I've looked in the family safe and found all sorts of mvsterious secrets and spent half an hour reading through those and thought, "Oh, I didn't know that happened.”
(Laughter)
RB: We've got all sorts of secrets. l'd been teaching away as well. I taught at St Andrew's when Nat Gardner was the rector. I don't know whether I'd been teaching in Chester then, because history is my subject. I revelled in Chester. It was full of history and I was thrilled to bits to be there. I earned a lot or money, too.
PR: Did you?
RB: Yes. You know, the Council would say, "Can you take a party round and that sort of thing. I stayed at the Ladies' Club run by the·Girls' Friendly Society and when I went for an interview (of course I was always travel sick.) I left Euston in the morning and got there at night and the rector of St Mary's, Handbridge, just outside the city walls, met me at Chester Station and I felt terrible. And I thought if he takes me back for a meal - we didn't get there until nearly 8 o'clock at night - and I couldn't tell how I'd be.
PR: No.
RB: I said I couldn't eat anything and he was wonderful. And he said, "I'll fix a manager's meeting for half past eight and you could get here at eight and it gives you time to have a meal.”
And I said I couldn't eat anything.
There were about six others after the job who'd all got places in the district whereas I would want somewhere to live and I suppose he felt so sorry for me that they had to give me the job.
(Laughter)
I revelled in Chester. Oh, it was wonderful.
PR: Yes, yes.
RB: I don't know whether I taught at St Andrews before I went there or after I left I was 2 years in Chester and I wouldn't have come back but my mother had fallen down the stairs here and hurt her back and the doctors thought she would never walk again. She was so ill.
The district nurse was 'a great friend of hers and I suppose it was the fact that she had fallen down and she was incapacitated herself that she worried about me being in Chester. And I think I taught at St Andrews after Chester.
I was ever so happy in Chester but my father phoned or wrote to me and he thought I should leave Chester and come home. They didn't think my mother would ever walk again. That was the point.
Anyway I went to see the Director or Education and I started a lot of folk dance groups in Chester as we had a big folk dancing group at Birch Green School. And it was very popular amongst the teachers, It was a teachers' group and he said, "I' m really sorry you're going." And I burst into tears. '
I don't think he'd ever had a teacher crying at his desk before. He took out a handkerchief, a beautiful white linen handkerchief out of his pocket and said, "Here you are, dry your eyes and when your mother's better. I'll have to fill your job in Handbridge in the school I was in but I'll find you another one in Chester,. The next one that's going.”
I said I didn't want to teach anywhere else. It was a terrible slum, everywhere I taught it's a beautiful residential part now but then it was a terrible slum.
PR: Difficult,
[Rosemary: Ruth, I'm going to get back to children now so I'll leave you with Peter.]
RB: Where are you going to put that?
PR: It'll probably come off once or twice, they usually do.
~
RB: There you are, you've pulled it off, haven't you?
[Rosemary: No, it was that piece that fell off. Anyway, I'll call in to see you next week and bring some photographs of what the children are doing.]
RB: Started today, have they?
[Rosemary: Started yesterday. 25 yesterday and 35 today.]
RB: 40 tomorrow - kiss them all round.
PR: Bye Rosemary.
[Rosemary: Peter and I go back a long, long way.]
PR: Make sure she can get out. Oh yes, that's all right.
Now, I have to say a few words myself to pick up on the machine to say where I am and what I'm doing and then I'll ask you some general questions and someone can come another time to fill in a few' details. I might steer you along a bit on some of it.
RB: What was it you want to know on that little thing?
PR: Well the group that I'm a part of is called the Hertford Oral History Group. And there are four or five of us who have made about 100 tapes now of people chiefly living in Hertford but now and then we have made little trips out.
RB: Yes, because Hertford was our only shopping town.
PB: Yes, your centre. So I'll ask you a little bit about that but I'll ask you about your home here and your family and your sisters and little bits just to give it a background picture. And we'll just go along until you say "that's enough" come again another day.
RB: Well that's alright. I've been sitting outside but it poured with rain and I thought I'd put chairs for us outside. But I thought we'd have to come in.
PR: Yes, I tried sitting outside at lunchtime but I had to go into the garage. Right, now I'll say my words. This is Peter Ruffles reporting from a key house in Letty Green, the Burgess family home and it's the 20th August, a rather heavy afternoon and I am in the company or Miss Ruth Burgess in a lovely room built onto the side of what has been the family home for two generations. Was it two?
RB: Yes, my grandparents lived here first.
PR: Three then, three generations, And Miss Burgess is now living here alone.
RB: I am the only surviving member of the family.
PR: Yes, now who are your immediate family? Your sisters were living here with you until they died fairly recently, weren't they?
RB: Well, we haven't always lived here. The parents have but there were four children in my family and that was my sister whose name was Gladys (that was a very fashionable name at that time) and the second sister was named Doris (that was another fashionable name) and I was the third one, called Ruth. I was going to be called Mary but we had a new rector here and I was the first baby he christened and so when he came up to see-my mother about the christening - he was over the church and we have always had the key of the church here since my grandfather's day.
PR: Ah, as long as that.
RB: He was churchwarden over there and he had the key. Only just recently the key was handed over to someone else because there was only me left and if l was ill they couldn't get into the church. They decided to pass it on to another church family and I didn't mind.
My name was going to be Mary. They'd got Gladys and Doris which were two fashionable names at the time but that was because of their godmothers, one was named Gladys and one was named Doris. That was those two and then I came along. The new rector of the parish was Mr. Bayfield who was a very scholarly man, very highly educated I should say. And I was the very first baby to be christened after he came in and he said, “What are you going to call the baby?" And my mother said she hadn't' fully decided but they thought they would call her Mary. She said, "Why do you ask?" And he said, "Well, it's the first baby I've christened here and I would like her to be named after my favourite character in the bible, Ruth.
So they said, "Alright, we'll call her Ruth." And when the next baby came along they called her Mary. I've never been able to sound my Rs. I can roll them but have never been able to sound them and I called myself Woof. I have gone through my life like this and all through college they'd say "Woof" and I'm used to it. To me it sounds as it I can roll my Rs. To me the way I say it sounds right.
PR: So you spent your childhood here. Were your grandparents here then?
RB: No. Well, they were here but not in this part. It was not built then. This was added on there where the stairs are. All the houses on the estate were Panshanger houses and they were all let to the people at so much a week. I should think about 1/6d per week or something like that. They employed someone who I suppose; you would call a clerk to come round and collect the money every week from the houses. Did you see Panshanger in its heyday?
PR: Well, heyday wouldn't be at the time I saw it. It was on the decline, really, not long before demolition, but we used to go up from Hertingfordbury Road. I live in Hertford, the villas beyond
the railway bridge, on the left hand side. Very often we went blue-belling at Panshanger and when we were children walked through to see the house. Where we shouldn't go really, because Lady Desborough was there. I do remember it.
RB: The Countess, Countess Cowper, came up once on a platform. They had a place at Taplow, near Maidenhead. And apparently when I went to Bray as a head teacher I heard the same story there she got up on the platform where she was introducing a debating society and she was very masterful. She was the master of the place, the husband was nowhere in it. .She was a very masterful personality.
I should think if anyone got to know her she was a very interesting person. But none of us got to know her well as she was very aloof. She got up at Taplow and she was presenting prizes as she did here at the memorial hall, where she was introduced as the Countess Cowper of Panshanger and Taplow and she turned round to the chairman who was doing his best and in charge of the platform and she squashed him by saying, "A little less or the “cow” and a little more of the “coo” if you please. She's never lived that Taplow story down.
PR: Yes, I can imagine. So were your grandparents employed on the estate then? Did they come here for employment?
RB: I don't know really.
PR: Well, they were obviously renting the Panshanger house.
RB: They came to the Brickfields I think. They're still called Brickfileds at the bottom end of the field at the far end of the Green past the last lot of houses. It's all wasteland now with blackberry bushes and that.
PR: Well that would tie up because the estate was building a great deal at the end of the last century and the beginning of this one and we have Brickfields at Hertingfordbury by the station.
RB: Well that bit is not built on now. I haven't been down there for ages. There's a lane at the end of the green called Deadfield Lane and we were always warned about going down there when we were children because there were gypsies camping there and we would never go down there. We would often have liked to go but none or us had got the spirit or daring to do it. The Brickfields and Deadfield Lane, it was the name that put us off as well. That led to the Cole Green Road that goes over the bridge to Hatfield.
PR: I'll have to keep the tape tidy because someone one day will type out what we're saying. It takes them a long time to do and it's such a slow job,
So we've traced then your grandparents and your parents here and four daughters and were you all at school locally, the four girls?
RB: Yes, we all went to Birch Green School. Three of us won the Birch Green Cup, but Doris didn't because when Doris was eleven the Open Minor Scholarships had just come in for the elementary schools in the Hertford District and Doris was very clever. We all thought she was. She was eleven and the eleven year olds all had to take the exam and a boy from Panshanger Lodge called Clarence Beech and Doris, were the only two who passed this exam. He was given a place at Hertford Boys Grammar School and Doris was given a place at Ware Grammar School. She had to catch a train from Cole Green Station to Hertford then cross Hertford (Great Eastern Station) to Ware and that was right by the school. Of course it was quite a big adventure for somebody living here 'at Letty Green and I wouldn't have dared to go.
I was always travel sick anyway. I used to pray to God on the staircase here when I used to hear my mother and father saying that they'd take us up to London to see a pantomime or something and I used to hear my mother saying, "What about Ruth?" So I knelt on the stairs praying that they wouldn't leave me behind and my mother would say, "No we won't leave her behind but she won't see anything. We take her up every year and she hasn't seen anything as she's so travel sick.” All I'd done was sit on some old lady's knee in the dressing room but that didn't worry me. What would have worried me was if they'd gone and left me behind.
PR: So you'd have taken the train from Cole Green to Hatfield, would you?
RB: Yes, but I was travel sick.
PR: It's not a very long journey
.
RB: No, but I was even sick on buses. I was sick going from here to Hertford but none of the others were. I had this until I was 17 and I could drive a car. Before that I had to bike everywhere.
I was teaching at St. Andrews School and I had to bike in and then I was teaching at Old Welwyn School and I had to bike in all through the rain and that was seven miles to Old Welwyn. The headmaster said to me, "It's taken my wife a whole day to dry your big overcoat, Burge.”
And I said, "She's got no business to come and take my coat and not say anything".
There was no transport along that road and mind you, I had been to college in the meantime.
But I said I'll tell you what's happened. From 7 o'clock in the morning outside our house the double decker buses which are open-topped so they can get under the bridge are starting to run every hour until 11 o'clock at night to Hertford and back again so the last one leaves Hertford and gets out here at half past eleven, if you want to go to the pictures or anything. And I said instead of biking home I'll bike to the Education Office and ask the Education people there if there's a job coming up in Hertford would they give me the chance of applying for it with the other candidates.
And I said, “If I am successful I won't have any trouble about journeys. And his face fell a mile and he said, "We don't want to lose you, Burge.” And I thought, "No, while he went in and had a hot meal I marked all his books for him. He never had any marking to do. I marked all his exercise books. And I said, "Well, there's nothing else I can do. And he said, "Oh yes there is." He said, "You could learn to drive and buy a car." I said, "What buy a car. I couldn't drive a car." I said there's only one car in Letty Green and that's a Rolls Royce and that belonged to the people where Abel Smiths live now. They had a Rolls Royce and a chauffeur but no one else had a car and there was no garage or anything on any of the houses.
I said, "Come to think of it in Old Welwyn, that's a big village and I said there's only three cars, that's yours, the doctor's and the rector's. So he said, "No, you're right.” But he said, "You try it and see. He said, "Instead of biking home tonight bike to Great Eastern Station in Hertford and there's a young driving instructor called Charlie Abbiss who lives near there and his father was a driving instructor. He's just died and Charlie has taken over his business.” He said bike to him and tell him I told you (the headmaster of this school) to ask him to teach me to drive a car. So I thought that I'd better do as he says or he'd give me the sack. He must be fed up with his wife having to keep drying my coat. I thought I didn't know whether they could give you the sack for drying a coat but he might do, so I biked to see Charlie Abbiss,
The car was against the kerb, out came Charlie, he was 18, nice sort of fair, freckled face.
PR: I remember him when he was older.
RB: Curly hair. I put my bike against the kerb. He lived near the Great Eastern Station in a house with a very long garden path. He saw me there and he came down. He thought I had a puncture in the bike and he said, "Can I help you?" I was petrified. I said "Well, I don't know whether you can or not." And he said, “If you've got a puncture I can mend it for you." I said, "No, the bike's alright.”
Well that flummoxed him and he said, "How can I help you then?" Then I blurted out, "Can you teach me to drive a car?" Oh!" he said, "Ladies don't drive cars." That was his reply. That spurred me on and I said, "You teach men to drive, don't you?" And he said, "Yes, I'm a qualified driving instructor and I teach men to drive.” He said, "I'm out teaching all day long, teaching men to drive but not ladies.” I thought, “I'm going to be bold here,” and said, "If you can teach a man to drive a car, which is only a machine, why can't you teach a lady to drive?" He said "I'll ask my mother."
And I thought, "He won't be any good if he's got to go and ask his mother". She thought I was after her Charlie boy. Anyway she came back and said to me, "What do you want to learn to drive a car for?" She was ever so cross with me. So I told this tale of how I got so wet biking to school and she said, "What do you bike to school for" and I said, "I'm a teacher. I teach at Old Welwyn." Well, that made it quite respectable. She didn't mind him teaching me when it was respectable, as we were sitting in the car together by ourselves.
She said to Charlie, "Come with me." And she took him and apparently she said to him, "If you can teach her to drive and she doesn't know anything about it, all the ladies in Hertford will want to
learn to drive and your fortune will be made and you'll die a rich man. She said, "Go on, teach her to drive." I didn't know she said this, he told me afterwards. So he came up and he said to me "What do you know about a car?" He didn't want to take me on if I was a dumb chick. I said, "Well, I know it's got a hooter." That's what they called them then. You punched them at the side.
The Rolls Royce in the village had a hooter on it and the chauffeur used to punch it as he went by.
He said "What about gears?" I said, "I didn't know a car had gears." So he said, "Well, alright I'll take you on but I haven't taught a lady to drive before.” I felt ever so big being called a lady. He said, "What time could you be here?" I said school closes at half past three and it'll take me half an hour to bike here so I can be here at four. So he said he'd give me an hour's lesson from four until just before five, “But I don't want you on the road at five because the traffic is busy then. It'll be £1 a lesson. I said, "How many lessons do you think I'll want?" And he said, “If you don't know anything about a car except that it's got a hooter I should think you'll want about 101.”
(Laughter)
I thought I knew I had £100 in the Post Office Savings Bank because as each child was born here my father and mother put 6d a week into the bank for them and I knew that as I was as old as I was then I would have about £100.
He said, “I'll teach you in that old Austin 7,” which was down on its wheels almost. And he said, "Have you got a car?" And I said, "No!" So he said, "Well, if you'd like to buy it." He was a businessman 'Our Charlie' and he was only 18. He said, "If you'd like to buy it I'll sell it to you for £100." So there you are! £100 to me for a car was chicken feed and I thought Oh well, a car for £100. He said, “I'll teach you from four till about a quarter to five as I'd like you off the road before five as you're a learner.”
PR: Did you have to take a test then?
RB: No, there was no test.
PR: Did you ever take one?
RB: Yes. Anyway, he passed me out as a driver. He took me to St. Mary's Lane, Hertingfordbury and then we came to the Hatfield Road and turned at Bedwell Park and came up here. We went up to Letty Green and Cole Green. And we kept doing the same route. We didn't do any other route.
I don't know how many lessons I had but it was £1 a lesson in this old Austin 7. When he took me round for the last time he told me, "You're quite good at driving and I trust you on my own in the car.” And he said, “Take me back to Hertford and drop me at Abbiss's. Come back and tell your mother to put on her best hat and coat, her best mind you, and get her beside you in the passenger seat and take her round this circular tour.”
I could have done it blindfold. We never went past the Bedwell Park turning. We came up here then got on the main road and went round at Mary's Lane and so on. So I came in and said to my mother, "You've got to put your best hat and coat on." And she put a black and white scarf on and said to my father, "Give me my kid gloves." She had kid gloves, black and white scarf and hat with two hat pins and my father saw us off and said. “Take care of your mother, Ruth." It didn't matter about me! He said, "If Charlie Abbiss has passed you out as a driver and he is an experienced man, I'll trust you as well."
So I took my mother round this circular tour and she said, "When we come back drop me off and then take your father." And she said "She's perfectly safe. She's a good driver. And she doesn't take any chances. Get in and she'll take you on the circular tour". She said to me, "Be back by five o'clock, don't be on the road after that." So I took him round and he said, "Oh yes, there is no need now for your mother to go down to Cole Green Station to get the train to go shopping, you can take her into Hertford."
Of course the car had to stand out on the green and of all the folk round here none of them had got a car and they were saying, "Ruth's got a car, can you take me so and so?" It was an Austin 7 and it used to take about six until the rector came in one Saturday morning, Woosnam-Jones.
PR: Oh yes, I remember that name.
RB: He was a wonderful man and a great friend of ours and his wife was beautiful. She was the most beautiful creature you ever set eyes on. She was like a wonderful model and the ladies in Hertingfordbury were ever so jealous of her and nobody made her welcome. But when he came up here to preach he always brought her but she came in she was always welcome here and she knew that. It didn't matter how beautiful she was, we knew we could never beat her in beauty. She was absolutely lovely.
The rector came and my mother opened the door and I heard my mother say, "Oh come in Woosnam and have a cup of tea.” He was as welcome here as one of the family and so was she.
He said, "Actually I haven't come here to see anyone else except Ruth if she's at home.”
And I thought he wants me to play the organ for him and my mother said, "She's in there. She's just come in from Hertford."
He said, "Ruth, without beating about the bush, I was in Hertford at Ilott's this morning getting a sack of flour and for my fowls (because they kept chickens) and your Austin 7 drove up to the
butchers. There were no parking restrictions anywhere, and he said, “Out of your car got 6 people." And I said, "Yes, that's right, there were 6." I said, "Directly I get the car out everybody around comes out saying, "Going into Hertford, Ruth?” and I'd say, "Yes" and they'd say, "Give us a lift."” And they sat on each others laps. And I said, "Yes, there were 6."
And he said, "And they all went around Hertford and did their shopping, did they? While you left your car and they all came back to the butchers with their shopping baskets?" And I thought whatever is he going through all this for. "And your brought them all back to Letty Green."
And I said, "Yes." "Well," he said, "You are not to do it." I was astounded. My mother nearly dropped the teacup. She said, "Why, what's wrong with it?". He said, "Your car is an Austin 7 and that's licensed to carry 4 people. You, a passenger beside you and two at the back and no more.”
I said that I didn't think there was any harm in carrying anybody else and he said, "If a policeman had seen you you'd have lost your licence and had to go to court. Now you don't want that to happen and I'm not going out of this house until you promise me that you will never take more than four people and that includes yourself in your car.” I thought, “Ooh”, and my hackles rose and I wasn't going to promise him and I didn't answer.
And my mother gave me a knock and she said, "Go on, do what Woosnam asks you to do, Ruth, and let him have his cup of tea which is getting cold." So I said, "Well, it's my car" and he wouldn't let me go any further. He said, "It's your car but it's only licensed to carry four and you had six, and you don't want to lose your licence. You don't want to go to court and say you didn't know as you'd look very foolish." I said, "I wouldn't mind looking foolish."
But he said, "Go on, promise me, I'm not going out of this house until you promise me." So I said grudgingly, "I promise." I had to say to people, "No, I can't take you. I can't take you." I could only take myself and usually there was Mary or Doris my sister with me but I daresay it did save me from getting a summons or fine.
PR: How long did you go on driving then? Did you give up when you didn't need to go to Welwyn or did you keep on?
RB: Oh no, I learned to drive and my cousin who was an architect in London, at Sir Guy Dorber & Fox, designed this piece on the end of this house here because he used to spend his childhood holidays here. They lived at Hyde Park Corner, which was very noisy. And his mother was my mother's sister. He came out here one day and he said, "I could do something about this house for you if you'll allow me to do it."
We were ever so uppish in those days, didn't allow anybody to decide what we were going to do but he was a favourite cousin. He said I could put you a piece on here in character with the house and you'd have an extra room and a window that would open to the garden and it would make all the difference to the place.
PR: But back on the driving side of it. When did you stop driving? Did you keep the car through your professional life or did you just use it…
RB: No, that first year we went from here to John O' Groats. I joined the AA. My architect cousin said, "Whatever you do join the AA.” He belonged to it because he was travelling all over the country, and he said, "If ever you break down they'll always come and help you and if they can't get your car to start they'll always drive you where you want to go."
I sent for all the literature and I was quite an expert driver by then, which was before the days of the test. And when the test came out I went up to County Hall and saw the Inspector and I said
I'd been driving since whatever year it was and I said, "I've driven from Letty Green to John O'Groats up the west side of the country and taken a week to get up there and I belong to the AA.
The AA provided the routes and-we stayed at the hotels they recommended, We stayed a week at John O'Groats and came back down the east side of the country."
And he said, "You've done more than I have!" I said that I'd still like to take the test and prove that I'm a driver fit to be on the road because that was what the test was for, wasn't it? And he said, "Alright, I'll arrange for the test." I had to go to County Hall to pick up the Test Inspector and we sat in the car for some time and he said, "Tell me what you have done before we start out." So I told him and he said, "Who taught you to drive in the first place? And I said, "Charlie Abbiss who was a qualified instructor and I was the first lady he taught to drive."
He'd never taught ladies to drive before but of course when they saw me driving about he was overloaded. It built his business up. The Inspector said, "Tell me some of the journeys you've done." I said that I'd joined the AA and had driven up to John O'Groats on the west side and we'd stayed a week at John O'Groats then come back on the eastern side. And we covered most of the British Isles at that time because we stayed at most of the big places like Edinburgh, for instance, and Inverness and did scoot round the towns.
PR: Wonderful.
RB: I said to the Inspector, "What I've come to you for is for you to pass me out on the test. Now on my driving licence I've got to show that I've passed the test for driving.”
He said, "I'll take you out on the test drive. I'm not going to tell you where that is because you know so much about this place and you've done so much driving around here you'll say it's a 'bit of cake.' But I'll tell you where to go, turn left, turn right, cross over, you know, that sort of thing, back, turn in the road and so on and I'll take you through all the stages of the test. And he didn't say a word except commands and when we got back to County Hall he said, "Come into my office." And I went in and he said, "Give me your hand.” And we shook hands and he said, "You're the best driver I've ever had to take on a test so far and I've been doing it since the test was introduced. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that you're a better driver than I am myself. And you've certainly done more in your car than I've done in mine, so I have no hesitation."
PR: So when did you stop driving?
RB: Not so long ago. I always bought my cars from Wheatley & Knights (garage) our local drivers. And we'd been to school together and if I got into any trouble with my car here they always came and saw to it. I'd just bought a new car, I've forgotten what the name of it was, but it was a white car. I had ever so many cars and I didn't keep them too long. First of all I did, I think. I kept the first one for about five years. I was horrified to think I'd got to part with it.
Once they started to get punctures, although I learned to mend a puncture and I learned to change a wheel and I've often stopped on the road, that lower road particularly when I've seen lady drivers
with a punctured wheel and got out and asked, "Can you do that?" And more often than not they'd say, "No!" And I'd do it for them and I'd say, "Watch me and then you can do it yourself." I used to change wheels for people quite often. When I went for my last eye test I had just bought a white car, Cadillac I think it was. I'd just bought that the week before and I, ..What was the name of the eye specialist in Hertford, was his name Maudesley?
PR: I don't know, there's one along the Ware Road on the corner. They change, though, don't they.
RB: Well anyway, I went to him and he tested my eyes and he said, “Are you still driving?" And I said, "Yes" And he said, "Well I can't pass you for driving any more." And I thought "Ooh, whatever will I do. I had a car and whatever would people round here do without a car. There weren't many cars about, well, there were cars but the people who had them weren't the sort of people who would pick people up.
PR: So that was just a few years ago, was it?
RB: Yes, it wasn't long ago.
PR: So what do you do now, then? Do you go out at all from here?
RB: Oh yes, we've got a bus. That's why I bought a car in the first place because I was always travel sick on trains and buses. I had to bike everywhere or they just had to stop and I had to get out and be sick on the road.
PR: So you take the bus now, do you?
RB: Yes, there's a bus on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. That goes at 10 o'clock and gets to Hertford at about quarter past ten and it leaves Hertford at 12 and gets back here at twenty past 12. When I failed the eye test I said to everybody, “I gave lifts to you. You'll have to find your own lifts now." They said, "Ooh, what are we going to do." And I said, "The same as I've got to do."
I make all my appointments in Hertford for Monday, Wednesday or Friday. Monday not so much for appointments as for shopping but Wednesdays and Fridays for feet, for eyes, for hair and things like that. I make them on those three days and it's no bother at all. The bus picks me up here, there's a bus stop outside and it stops out here. I've only got to cross the road. I couldn't believe it.
PR: You've got to organise your diary but…
RB: I'd only had the car a year. He said he couldn't pass me for driving and it was the first white car I'd had. And I stopped at the garage at the way back and saw young Foster, who was working
there and said, "They won't pass my eyes for driving any longer and so it's no good me keeping this car.”
He was the one who delivered it to me and he said, "What are you going to do then?" And I said, “Well, I'm going to give it to you if you'd like it. You were the one who delivered it and I've only had it a year." And he said, "Ooh!" He couldn't believe it. It was as good as new inside. He said, "I'll run you home in it."
And I said, "No, don't run me home. I've got to learn to walk, take up walking again. I've always liked walking and done a lot of walking. Even when I had a car we always did a lot of walking. We were a family of walkers. We had dogs and we always took the dogs out. I'll have to take the bus or walk everywhere but I'm giving you my car because I don't want to take it home and see it in the garage and see it slowly rot away. No one will drive it but me. So I gave it to him.
PR: Now, can I ask you a few more things or would you like me to come back another time?
RB: No, why do you ask me that?
PR: Well, it's lovely to here the tale. Let me stop the tape.
RB: I ought, let me get you a cold drink.
PR: No.
RB: I said, "If you go to the door you'll find out so she went to the door and opened it. And I heard her say, "Oh you are like the Bishop of St. Albans." And a voice said "I am the Bishop of St. Albans." So I was sitting there reading and thought, “Here's some fool acting on our doorstep.”
I heard Mary say, "Come in."
And she ushered a gentleman and lady in and he was in a tweed walking suit and didn't look a bit like a bishop. He sat down in that chair. Mary flew upstairs and I didn't know why she'd gone but she flew up to get her portfolio she'd made of all the occasions when the Bishop of St Albans had had to come to our Hertingfordbury church, for special occasions. And Mary liked things printed in the newspaper that you couldn't argue about and she'd got this great portfolio.
He sat there and of course he didn't look like the Bishop of St. Albans at all as he was in his bird-watching clothes, I was sitting there and she went over and looked at this picture and that's called, "Mary Opens the Church." That's my sister Mary. We always had the key of the church here since my grandfather's time. Mary was always here as this used to be our shop and Richard Hitch you remember, of Hertingfordbury?
PR: Yes
RB: He did that picture of Mary opening the church and he'd given it to Mary at the Christmas before the fellow who called himself the Bishop of St. Albans came in. It was given to Mary wrapped in Christmas paper. Rosemary marched up the church to Mary and Mary who was slightly deaf didn't know what was happening. They were going round the church and blessing it, all the way round and outside and coming back again. And they gave her this picture. It was all in this Christmas paper and Mary took it and she didn't know what it was.
Roland Lee living over the road was sitting in the seat in front of me said to me, "Tell Mary to
open it." So I said to Mary, "You've got to open it." And she said, “What is it?" And Rosemary said to her and Richard Hitch, "Open it Mary. It's for you." So Mary opened and Richard Hitch had painted the picture of Mary opening the church, and it was a present to Mary from all the congregation because she opened the church for everybody every morning.
So when this fellow who said, "I am the Bishop of St. Albans” came in he sat there. I was over there reading and his wife was going to sit there when she looked at this picture and he said to her "What are you looking at, Linda?" And I thought Linda, that is the name of the Bishop of St. Albans' wife and I thought I'd better keep quiet 'cos I couldn't believe he was the bishop and I thought anyone could have a wife called Linda. She said to him, "I'm looking at this picture." And she called him by his name and she said "Come and look at it."
And he said, "Oh yes, that's Mary opening the church, by Richard Hitch” And he knew from the village. He knew that Richard Hitch was one of the chief church people in the village and then Mary came flying down the stairs with this portfolio. And he sat back in his chair and she put in on his knee and she said, "There you are. That's my collection of all the things you've taken part in in our village.” Coo, he was ever so bucked. I thought, “Well, perhaps he is the bishop.” He never lets me live it down. When they decided to move to Cambridge, see, that was one of his books, John Taylor.
PR: Yes, yes.
RB: When they decided to move to Cambridge he came down one Sunday morning.
Shall I sit here or over there.
PR: You were going to get me a drink.
RB: I'll go and get one. What would you like, lemonade?
PR: Yes, I'd love it, please.
RB: Do you know the Carsons at all?
PR: Oh yes, Richard, looking rather more youthful than usual.
RB: It was down at one of our austerity lunches. Lilian Carson, every first Friday in the month I think, she did an austerity lunch to raise money for something they were interested in and Richard
Hitch took that photo. I think it's lovely.
PR: Yes, it's a lovely, happy photo.
RB: No, he didn't take the picture because he's in it. Somebody else must have taken it.
PR: What lovely lemonade.
RB: This is the milkman's lemonade. Plenty of biscuits there but no cakes. I'm not a cake maker.
Where was I sitting?
PR: Now, I mustn't tire you because I've been here a very long time.
RB: Have you? Are you supposed to be out on your own all this time? It's ten to four.
PR: I don't know whether anyone will worry about me but I don't want to overtax you because it's hard work.
RB: It isn't hard work for me because I'm just sitting here doing nothing.
PR: Can you remember anything about your St Andrew's schooldays in Hertingfordbury Road?
RB: Yes, I tried to find my service book. We'd all got a service book. Doris was a teacher and my other sister was a nurse.
PR: Was Doris at Sawbridgeworth?
RB: Yes? She got a job there because she left college. Her college was at Bishop's Stortford.
PR: I went to Sawbridgeworth yesterday to talk to the present Mayor of Sawbridgeworth, Frank Clay. He's 83. He's quite an elderly Mayor and when I happened to say to him that I was coming here today he said, "Burgess is a household name in Sawbridgeworth. Everyone knows." And some pictures from the Doris Burgess Collection are printed often in the Herts & Essex.
RB: Yes, that's right. What's the writer's name. I think it's John something.
PR: I've forgotten now but it's a fortnightly feature.
RB: Yes, after Doris died, I think, he used to write or send the weekly paper to me if there was an article about the school in it. You see, Doris was a brain, she was the brain of the family. Well we always called her that. She wanted to be a teacher and so she went to Hockerill Training College for teachers (so did I.)
And in your first year you did your junior three weeks teaching in one of the local schools and in the second year you did your senior teaching, again in the local schools. Well the F & B School was only 3 miles from Hockerill Training College at Bishop's Stortford and that was one of the practising schools. I think she did her first teaching practice in a school in North Street, Bishop's Stortford and her senior school practice, the one you had to pass if you were going to be classed as a teacher, and if you didn't pass you had to do another year at college, This was at Fawbert & Barnard.
Well Mrs Parfitt - you knew her, did you?
PR: No.
RB: Well she was the Headmistress of the girls' school and her husband Sidney was the Head of the boys'. It was named after two elderly gentlemen, Fawbert and Barnard who had financed the school. It wasn't a council or a church school. I used to think it was the name of the road it was in but you see when Doris went there she did her student practice there in the top class and that was the end of her teaching practice and then came the final exams at college.
After that, you get so much clutter at college and you've got to bring it home somewhere and we didn't have cars in those days. She brought hers from Bishop's Stortford to Hertford East. That's right, isn't it?
PR: Yes, you could do that, change trains at Broxbourne.
RB: Ooh, I've done that hundreds of times, fancy me forgetting. My father met her on his bike to carry her case. That was the last time she was coming home before the end of term when she'd bring all her stuff home. She thought she'd bring some of it home. You're residents there in the college. So my father biked to Hertford East and carried her luggage from his saddle on to his handlebars and they walked from Hertford East. He didn't think anything of that at all.
PR: He didn't go to the Northern and take another train.
RB: No, there were no Sunday trains. I suppose Doris was talking all the time. She could stay the weekend. They all had the last weekend off if they wanted to go away because you had to ask permission to go out of college. You weren't allowed to go into Bishop's Stortford without a prefect. It was ever so strict. The rules in college were strict and if you wanted to go for a country walk you had to have a prefect. You couldn't go strolling off by yourself. I suppose they had to be like that.
PR: Well, lively girls in their late teens or early twenties
RB: So my father and Doris walked from the Eastern Station and I can see her now. She walked in and we were all sitting there waiting for her to come in and announced, "1'm a Head of School of 100”. She closed her eyes and shook her hand just like that. And then she opened her eyes and said, "And that's as big as Birch Green School is," as much as to say, “Don't say that's no size.” And we were stunned, as she was still at college.
My mother said, "Calm down Doris and tell us what you're talking about. Take your hat and coat off and sit down." Doris was enjoying herself and my mother said, "You haven't left college yet and you haven't taken your final exams." So Doris said "Yes, I know that but I was sent to do my school practice at the Fawbert & Barnard school in Sawbridgeworth and the Headmistress Mrs Parfitt wrote a note to the Principal of the college who sent for me. And the Principal, Miss Maldon who was an old tyrant, New Zealander, about that wide, and she said the Headmistress of the Fawbert & Barnard wanted to see Doris and she had to give the reason before the Principal allowed her to go with a view to asking her if she would like to apply for the Headship of the place, as they were retiring when Doris left college the next week.
Of course, Doris was astounded. You never thought of a job dropping in your lap. You had to apply for about 16 or 17 she was saying.
PR: And certainly not one in charge of a school.
RB: No, that's it. It was a school of 100. Doris said, "Exams don't worry me." And my mother said, "Well you should worry about them because your future depends on them." I said, "Let Doris tell us what she's got to say."
And she said, “"Mrs Parfitt sent for me and said she was retiring at the end of the term and her husband was retiring and they'd bought a flat in Bexhill on Sea, right on the seafront and they were finishing at the end of term. And at the managers' meeting that night Mrs Parfitt was going to ask them to appoint Doris Burgess of Letty Green as Headmistress of this school of 100 pupils."
So when my mother recovered her breath she said, "Well you haven't done your exams." And Doris said, “She wasn't worried about that.” She was ever so clever, especially at languages. She revelled in Latin and French (I hated them.)
And my mother said, "So you've come home to think about it then." And Doris said, "No, not think about it, I've taken it, They're appointing me. While I'm here talking to you, the Fawbert & Barnard School are appointing me there. I shall finish the term at college and when we close I shall' come home here for a holiday and bring all my luggage. And then I'll have to go back and live in lodgings in Sawbridgeworth because if I'm going to be head of a school I must live in the place. I couldn't live here and travel backwards and forwards.”
PR: So what age range were the children in Fawbert & Barnard, then, 5 to 11?
RB: 5 to 14 it was in those days, I think. Well, before she left, you see she'd still got the end of her term in college. And during that time the evacuation from London took place. Instead of 100 in the school it was 500 and she said to us, "I'll have to go back and I'll have to take a house there. I can't be head of a school of 500. I'm frightened to death."
And my mother got quite portly and said, "Don't be so stupid, Doris. It's fallen in your lap so pick it up and make the best of it. Take your house or take good lodgings because if you've got a school of 500 ('they'd taken all the halls, the library etc. in every place and housed the children from the evacuation) and the school had to put up with it. My mother said to Doris, "Mrs Parfitt wouldn't have asked the managers to appoint you if she hadn't believed. Doris said, "It was only 100 then but it's 500 now."
PR: Now, we've got to watch the clock. It's 4 o'clock. When you were at my old school, St Andrew's, which I went to and my brother and sister, in Hertingfordbury Road, next door to us was living Miss Turnbull. Was she the Head when you were at the school?
RB: No, it was Miss Smith from St. Albans.
PR: Yes, Hilda Annie Smith.
RB: She used to come by car from St. Albans and I used to bike from here. And Old Nat Gardner he was the clergyman. I believe. I was teaching in Chester before and my mother was ill. They thought she'd broken her back. She was in bed for a long while and my father wrote to me and asked if I could home and get a job nearer home. I was ever so happy in Chester. I loved it but it was a terrible old slum school.
PR: Well St Andrew's wasn't much better. It was quite rough wasn't it?
RB: Yes, but Chester was in a slum, in Handbridge. And I'd never seen a slum. And I'd never seen poor children. You couldn't call anyone living round here poor. They weren't wealthy but they were all well cared for and well dressed and clean. It broke my heart to see these slum children and after all these years they still write to me. Most of them are grandmothers now but they still write to me and I used to go back to Chester every year.
PR: Do you remember people from St. Andrew's in Hertford?
RB: Well when I taught at St Andrew's I cried when I had to leave Chester. I went to the Director of Education and said I'd have to come home because my mother had fallen down the stairs and hurt her back and they didn't think she'd walk again. And he gave me his handkerchief and I cried all over him. And he said, "I can't keep your job open for you but you've made such an impact on Chester relations with teachers, I started a folk dance group for teachers and a sword dance for men teachers.
PR: So you were welcome back.
RB: Yes, I'd always be welcomed back but not necessarily to the school I'd left, but they'd always offer me a job. But I said I wouldn't want to go back to anywhere but Handbridge.
PR: And you never did.
RB: No, I didn't.
PR: How long did you stay at St Andrew's?
RB: Well when I came home, Nat Gardner who was the rector of St. Andrew's. a real old tyrant everybody called him
PR: He was rector of St. Andrew's until 1942. That's when he died.
RB: Well, I was there before then. I tried to find my service book to show you but I can't find it anywhere. I think Doris must have put it in a deed box somewhere. I'll have to turn out the
family safe.
PR: You probably had a couple of years with him because Miss Smith, I think, took over in 1940.
RB: Well I taught under her 1940 to 1941. She used to come in a car.
PR: Yes, from Prospect Place in St Albans, 84 Prospect Place.
RB: Then there was Miss Hornby, she was Infants.
PR: Oh yes, you remember Miss Hornby.
RB: And Miss Fox-Edwards. Miss Smith took the top lot, Miss Fox-Edwards took the next group. We were all in one room, one gallery and steps going up and a curtain between us all. I was at the far end with the 7-8s. Nat Gardner, he lived in the corner, didn't he?
PR: Yes, Cross Lane.
RB: I had to go and see him and he was ever so fierce. He was ever so gentle really but when he was into you then he was fierce. I liked him ever so much. I could get on like a house on fire with him, but I didn't agree with what he did when he came in to take morning assembly for instance which was prayers. The rooms were like you went up steps. There were three steps and the back
row was behind and there was only a curtain between us. And we were always barking one against the other but we learned to control that.
I had to go and see Nat Gardner and he wanted to see my nails and had I got good teeth? I was going as a teacher, mind! I said, "Yes, I've got good teeth." I hadn't lost any then. I didn't lose any teeth until I scalded my tongue when I drank some hot water and didn't know it had just been boiled and it skinned my tongue. And I had to have all of my 32 teeth pulled out because I kept biting my tongue and it bled and the dentist in Hertford, I've forgotten who it was, used to cry every time he took four teeth out. He took them out every weekend. I had 32 teeth and it took eight weeks.
The tears used to roll down his face when he took my teeth out and I'd say, "I don't know what you're weeping for." I felt I could cry a flood of tears but once I felt sorry for myself I would have
stopped going.
PR: But your teeth passed Natty Gardner's inspection.
RB: Yes, I hadn't had them out then. He said "Had I got good teeth? What about eyes?"
And I said, “My eyes were alright. I wear eye glasses but I had to wear eye glasses because I had so many bilious attacks, and because of reading, chiefly in bed at nights with a night light or candle or something like that. I'd ruined my eyes really. And when I went for the eye test they said I had to wear glasses. There was teeth and eyes and I suppose fingernails came into it. And I thought whenever is he going to ask me about teaching. He said, "Anything you can tell me?"
And so I thought, "Golly, he's asked me nothing about teaching."
I said, "I like teaching," and I said, "I can play the piano." He'd previously told me that he came in one morning each week. I don't know whether it was Monday or whether it was Wednesday but he came in one morning to take prayers. We had one room and it was ever so antiquated. I didn't think anything about it because I'd taught in antiquated schools.
I said I could play the piano and not many people could in those days. I used to play for dances at the memorial hall, the Mayflower. And I used to play at various places in Hertford for folk dancing
or country dancing. I could teach country dancing. They taught us that at Birch Green,' folk dancing, the Raymonds, Frank & Winifred Raymond who were the Headmaster and his wife. She taught country dancing to school pupils and wherever I went I started a folk dance class for girls and women or for men because I could teach men Morris dancing as well. I had a Morris dancing team and a folk dance team. Well that's a way of using up your evenings otherwise you get sick of being in digs with nothing to do.
PR: You say you didn't care for the way he did his assemblies.
RB: Oh yes, that's right. I shall never forget it. I can see him because he was so short wasn't he? He used to come in and take the assembly. And I was in great favour with him because 1 could play the piano. And when we came to having the hymn which was usually Rock of Ages or Few More Years Shall Roll or one of those dreary old hymns, not children's hymns at all, I could play the piano for him.
I said to him, "What does the assembly you take consist of?” And he said, "I give them a little talk or lecture and then we have a hymn and prayers and then I go and the teachers get on with their daily work." He said, "Can you play any hymn?" And I said, "Yes, I can play any hymn." And he said, "You wouldn't mind if I chose a hymn and then when I came I altered it." And I said, "No, that wouldn't worry me at all." He said, "Alright I'll do that then."
And he came in. I had the shock of my life. He came in and said, "Good morning!" to us all. This was my first morning and I thought he'd say, "Good morning children. We'll have hymn number so and so." Then we'd have a few prayers then he'd go. But no, old Nat Gardner gave them a talk on the boys, how to dress, how to keep their clothes clean. He said, "You don't always want to look on the outside of your clothes. You want to lift up the collar and brush underneath and you should look at the buttonholes to see what they're like. Are they getting shabby looking? That's because you don't open them wide enough when you put the button through and what about the cuffs?”
Well, I was astounded. I thought, "He's not giving a talk on the bible, or Prayer Book or even a short scripture story from the New Testament and I thought he was doing it to show off because
I was a new teacher.” He took half an hour to do that and then he said, "Now Miss Burgess if you'll play a hymn, something like Rock of Ages Cleft for Me or Nearer My. God to Thee or something."
So I found it and played it. The children were only up to age 11. I mean they weren'teven senior children. He then thanked me for playing the piano and he went.
I said to Miss Smith, "Is that what he calls taking morning assembly?" And she said, "Yes! How to keep your nails clean. How to clean your teeth. How to brush your hair. How to turn your coat collar back and how to tie your tie." I said, "That's a lesson on how to dress or hygiene if you like, what a funny thing to do." When he'd finished and we pulled the curtain he said to Miss Smith, "I'd like to stop and hear Miss Burgess take a lesson.” I think he thought I was a bit of a heretic or something and I'd say something about the devil and horns which he didn't agree with. She said, "Alright then."
PR: One thing that's interested us in the past in St. Andrew's was Edie Hornby's position because she wasn't a qualified teacher, was she?
RB: No, she took the Infants, didn't she.
PR: Do you remember her being unsatisfactory?
RB: No, she was in a different part that went back by itself.
PR: Yes, down by the lane, Warehams Lane.
RB: Yes, we never saw her.
PR: But the children came back to you from her able to do what you'd expect.
RB: Oh yes, I don't think there was anything. I can't remember. Well, I suppose whatever they came with I took for granted. They were my class now and so it was up to me. So Nat Gardner said, “I'd like to see Miss Burgess take her scripture lesson.” And Miss Smith was ever so glad he hadn't said he'd like to listen to her lesson or to Miss Fox-Edwards.
He came and stood slightly at the back so that he was out of my vision and it didn't worry me because I'd been all through college and I was taking a children's bible story lesson like one of the early days of Jesus. I've forgotten what it was now. I told them the story, as a story. I didn't have a book or anything and then, (they were all listening, they were good little children at that school)
they were good at putting their hands up to say choose me or ask me do to something. The two top classes never asked children to come and do anything. They told them what to do. I told them to listen very carefully and then I'm going to choose some of you or some of you may like to offer. And if you do I shall say yes but if you don't offer I shall choose some of you to come and act it.
Of course they all sat up nice and bright. They were dear little souls really. Well all children were and perhaps I told them the story of Jesus in the Temple or something in ordinary language, not
in bible language. Ordinary things that people would say who were standing round Jesus when he was a child and they'd say, "You go on," and "You can do it." And I said, "Who'd like to come out and act it?" And they said, "Ooh!" And I said, "Well, I'll choose some of you." And Old Nat was standing and listening.
PR: Mm, impressed.
RB: And I said to him, "Would you like to sit down?" He was standing up and I thought he'd just stay and hear a few words and then go but he said, "Yes, I would like to sit down." So I gave him my chair so he could sit down and I said, "This is going to take some time." It would be about half an hour or 40 minutes, and he said, "Alright, I'll sit down and watch."
I said to the children, "Who'd like to be Mary?" "Ooh yes." “Who'd like to be Jesus?" "Ooh yes". So I picked a couple. And I said, "Who'd like to be somebody else or in the crowd of people listening to Jesus?" And they'd act it and he was over the moon Old Nat was. He couldn't believe his ears.
PR: Yes, I can imagine. Now I'm going to have to go. I'm sure someone will be a nuisance to you in the future and say can you tell us some more about Letty Green and the relationships of the communities of Cole Green etc.
RB: Well these new people are not interested in the old days.
PR: Well, in your day when you were younger.
RB: They're all new people there now.
PR: No, but the museum is and someone from the Oral History Group, I think, will come and ask you, if you have the time and energy. But you said your sister Mary had a shop in this room for some time. How long did that last, quite a while?
RB: Well, she had a shop first of all. She never wanted to be a teacher, anyway. My eldest sister was a nurse and nursing in those days was terrible. Hospitals now are not what they were in those days and she developed TB. And in those days there was no cure for TB was there and it was called an infection of the lungs and it sounded ever so grand and she was only about 17.
PR: Yes, tuberculosis. Of course Miss Turnbull had TB. Miss Turnbull who was head at the school before Miss Smith. And she had her hand amputated because of some tubercular condition of the hand while she was head at St. Andrew's. So Mary stayed at home did she?
RB: Yes, my eldest sister died when she was 17. And my mother had always been a nurse before she was married. And everybody round here then if they were ill always sent for her. And when Lord Desborough was ill Lady Desborough sent for her to nurse him. Ethel [Ettie] Desborough and my mother were great friends. That's all gone now.
We all went to Birch Green as children and we had to walk an old stony lane with trees meeting overhead and no houses along it. It was like a dark tunnel to go along. And coming home in the winter, it was about half past three I suppose, it was quite dark under those trees.
PR: You went along Chapel, you didn't go on to the main Road?
RB: Oh no, we went straight across.
PR: You went straight across the crossroads here.
RB: And there were no houses, just trees overhead.
PR: Under the little bridge on the corner. You would have gone under the railway somewhere, I suppose.
RB: Yes, we went under the railway bridge and up the hill on the other side.
There were no houses on Birch Green only two old farmhouses, that was all there was, belonging to Mr Quenby the farmer. He had two houses. There were no houses all along, it was quite an empty green. It was quite a long walk for us really, for little five year old legs.
By the time we came home at 4 o'clock in the winter it was dark and my mother would always come and meet us. She didn't in the summer but in the winter she always did because that lane was ever so dark and it was gruesome with the great big oak trees, ash and elm trees meeting overhead. Well, of course it was a long way for little legs to walk but it didn't seem to do us any harm. And there were no school meals. We all had to take our meal with us, which of course was cold.
PR: But in turn, Doris and you went off to train but did Mary have a profession or did she stay at home?
RB: My eldest sister died and Lady Desborough who always relied on my mother if anyone was ill. She'd leave us. My father had to look after us, and she was often out at night nursing people. Lady Desborough had straw put all along this road when my sister was ill in bed. And she had the whole window taken out and a large plate glass window put in so my sister could lie in bed and see the outside. And it was chiefly horse and cart traffic then. And so they didn't make a noise she had all this straw laid in front of the house and I used to think, "Ooh, it's terrible. She must be going to die” and of course she did.
PR: She died at home here, did she?
RB: Yes, and it was a terrible blow. We were all at Birch Green School. Doris had just started the Open Minor Scholarship for 11 year olds. She was the first to pass it and her name is on the Honours Board up at the school. Clarence Beech who lived up at the Lodge at Panshanger was the first boy to pass. They took the scholarship at 11 years old, I think. Doris passed and she went to Ware Grammar School. I was always travel sick but Doris wasn't and she liked going about and she came home and said, "We had a prelim test and if we passed it we could go into the higher section." And she looked at me and Mary and said, "Latin, French and German." And my mother said, "Don't forget English!"
PR: But you didn't take those steps. What did you do? You stayed at Birch Green until you were 14, didn't you?
RB: That’s right, yes.
PR: And then pupil teaching?
RB: Yes.
PR: I must ask you quickly about Mary because the tape's nearly run out. Did Mary take up a profession?
RB: No, when Mary saw what Doris had to do to be a teacher she didn't want to do that and so she decided to open the hut outside the house which was about half as big as our garage as a shop. And she'd sell just sweets to children and that's how it started. My cousin, the architect, designed this piece on the end of the house. And Mary had the shop in the hut and later in the garage, which fell to pieces, so the shop was then in this piece. There was a counter down here and there, that middle piece, went right down as a door.
PR: And what did she sell in the end. Did she stay with sweets?
RB: Oh no, she sold everything I think. To begin with she sold sweets and sherbet bags. An elderly gentleman on Birch Green always used to call her Mary Sherbet because when he was a little boy he used to toddle up the lane to get the shopping for his mother and she'd give him a penny to spend for sweets for himself for going and then walking all the way back. And he said, "I always called Mary, 'Mary Sherbet'. I didn't know her name was Mary Burgess."
When she died and there was a big funeral over there the story came out. He didn't know her name was Mary Burgess until she died and he said, "I always called her Mary Sherbet because when I got my mum's shopping she gave me a sherbet bag with a bit of liquorice in it shaped like a triangle. If I said," Please," and, "Thank you," she gave me a sherbet bag so I always called her Mary Sherbet" and he didn't know her name was Mary Burgess.