Neville Markham, who has lived in Godmanchester for most of the last century, spoke with Janet Walker and remembers......

Interview with Mr Neville Markham - 18th Feb 2000.

(This is a longer version of the article that appeared in The Bridge 2000)

I was born before the First World War, in the old Three Horseshoes pub (now Gateway Estate Agents). When we took it over the license had been taken away and we ran it as an hotel called the Three Horseshoes Temperance Hotel. The first thing I can remember when I must have been about three years old was the First War and the German prisoners marching by every morning to work on the farms. When I was a bit older, about 1919 after the First World War, we had celebrations in Godmanchester, one of the celebrations was a fancy dress parade through the streets of Godmanchester, and I was dressed as John Bull.

I went to the school on the school hill as it's known today, and the teacher there was Mr Sam Hunt. He must have taught there a great number of years as my father was taught by him. My mother was taught in Huntingdon by Mr Tom Pack.  Now Mr Pack was an excellent teacher, and that's why I left the Godmanchester school when I was 8 years old, and I went to Tom Pack's school. It's a building now on the ring road opposite the old grammar school. (Brookside). He was a wonderful teacher, nobody dared do anything wrong at that school. He had a big stick, and he had an office at the side of all the other classes, and if your teacher thought you'd done something wrong you were sent in the corridor. He used to come out of his office and see if anybody was standing in the corridor, then he'd have you opposite his office where there was a desk. You had to bend over this desk and according to what you'd done wrong, you might get two belts with his stick on your behind, or if it was more serious, you'd get a lot more. I've known boys to get five and six strokes.

On one particular Friday afternoon there was an important football match, I think it was a cup game, I can't be sure now. Well the lesson before we left the school to play at Hinchingbrooke Park, he came looking through the window. We were passing notes about the football. Well it should have been silent reading, so he came in and I was the first one he picked.  He said: " What book have you got there, do you know the title of it ?" He asked about four of us, so we said the title, then he said "Start telling me what you've read in the book." Of course nobody could say, so we all marched off to his office and we all got a belting. He sent one boy up to Hinchingbrooke Park, and cancelled the match!

There were no buses bringing children to school in those days and we had children coming from as far away as Little Stukeley, Great Stukeley, Ripton, Wennington, and they all used to walk. We started school at 9 o'clock till 12, then a dinner break and then we went back to school at 2 until 4.30. I went home for dinner, but the ones who stayed brought food with them and the boys would play football on the common, or they could go into the town, and those with money could buy chips. The school was centrally heated and if these children from these faraway villages got wet if it was raining, they used to have some more clothes at the school, and they would change and put the wet clothes on the radiator pipes.

Another thing near the school that I remember quite clearly was a golf course, which was run by some of the notable families in Huntingdon: the Goodliffes, who owned the brewery, Brown the dentist, and quite a few more. It was only a 9 hole course, and sometimes if I stopped for dinner, I went round with a boy who was employed by the professional. In those days they didn't have tees to put the ball on where they drove off, so one of the jobs he had to do was to go round and fill boxes up with sand, because instead of tees they used to put a little pyramid of sand, and then put the ball on that. Another thing I can remember there was a big pond on the golf course; most of the golf course was on Spring Common. We used to take our boots off and try and feel for the balls that had been knocked in - we used to get a penny a ball from the professional.

Another thing I remember when I was at school was the number of tramps who used to spend the night in the workhouse near the iron bridge, it was always opened at 4 o'clock, and the tramps used to sit on the low wall there, sometimes as many as a hundred would sit there waiting for it to open. They'd go into the workhouse and have a meal, mostly bread and cheese and a mug of tea. They'd spend the night there and the next day they had to do a day's work, which consisted of feeding pigs, tending to the large vegetable garden they had, and chopping kindling. The workhouse used to buy big loads of railway sleepers, these were sawn up by hand, by the tramps, and chopped into kindling. Most of the shops in Huntingdon, and even farther afield bought the bundles of firewood and sold them in the shops. Some weren't really tramps, they were moving from the North where there was a lot of unemployment and they came down to try to find a job. Some of the cases were terrible, their clothes were ragged and there was cloth bound round their feet for shoes, and they used to walk from one workhouse to another. There were no such things as old people's homes in those days, the only home for old people was the workhouse, and all the old people, I remember this quite well, were terrified of going there.

I had a milk round to do before I started school in the morning. I used to have a bunch of cans, some held a quart, some held a pint, and I used to deliver the milk when I went to school in the morning, and then I used to collect the cans when I come back at dinnertime. When I came home from school I would have to do that same round again. At night time I had to go in the shed next to the cows and then used to break up linseed cake, and put mangels through the cutter. There were a lot of buildings behind the back of where I lived, where it comes out in St Ann's Lane. There were rows of buildings, and the cows were kept there. What we used to do was keep the cows in the lodges all the wintertime, and if it was nice weather we used to drive them up to the two fields we had up Berry lane, and back again in the afternoon for milking.

In May each year, May the 13th, the cows were put on the common. Some only had a few cows, but others had around twenty.  We used to milk them on the common, on the right as you go to Huntingdon, on the triangular piece near the war memorial. There was a herdsman and he got up at four o'clock in the morning to drive all the milking cows into that enclosure, then all the milkmen used to go with horses and floats. Some had a big churn, and a contraption that had two wheels and handles that used to fit in two clips and they use to pull that on the common; you could ride your bike and pull it. Then you used to milk your cows and take the milk home and strain it, but hygiene in those days! I've seen a cow do its business in the pail, and they never threw it away! I milked the cows once for old Harry Herbert. He lived in Post Street, he had about 4 cows, and he was ever so ill. His wife came and asked if I could do the milking and I said I would do them after I'd milked mine, so I went a bit early to milk mine, we had about six then. This Herbert, one of his cows that I milked had got a cold in its bag, and phlegm came out, so I milked it on the ground. I went back and told her, I said "That roan cow's got a cold in its bag so I milked it on the ground" - "Oh she said you don't want to do that! Put it in the pail next time!"

When there was a glut of milk we used to make cream cheeses. The milk that was left was skimmed milk, and I used to have to take what was left to sell, knocking at doors saying "Would you like some skimmed milk, halfpenny a pint?"  I used to go to Bill Peck first, he had a baker's shop where the Comrade's Club car park is now in Cambridge Street. He used to take about half what I'd got in the can for milk rolls and such.

They used to have the cows there until September, depending on the weather. The commons belonged to the Freemen. If you bought a house before the Second World War, it might have a common right on it. If it did, you'd contact a Freeman and you'd have to pay him so much money and that meant you could put one cow on the common, or he might find someone to buy that common right. He'd take a pound out from whatever you got; they only made about £3 to £5 in those days before the Second World War.  But if you were a Freeman like we were, it didn't cost anything.

I heard this tale from my grandfather, about how the Freemen were created.  King John was pulled on a plough from Kingsbush Hill, by some of the notable people in Godmanchester. He's supposed to have given them all that nice fertile land up there, and that's how it stood for so many years. And then, I was told, these big farmers got the freemen drunk and then exchanged the land for what they've got now, all that land near the river which gets flooded! Whether it's true or not I don't know. I should say there's something in it because if they bought him down from Kingsbush hill, it's unlikely he'd give them land near the river!

In those days, there were no taps, nearly everybody had a well, and it was always near the back door, filled in with slabs, and then there was a pump, over the top, so you pumped all your water. Now the water that was pumped was for drinking; everybody in those days had a tub, to catch all the water and all that water was used for washing, and washing clothes, and if that dried up a lot of people used to use river water, it was much softer. There were no inside toilets, there were buckets in a little shack down the bottom of the garden. Every week, Booter Holmes, who used to live in a cottage where the parking place is in Post Street, near the insurance people, and his son used to collect all the dust out the dustbins during the day and then they used to go on the nightcart, the night soil cart, and empty all these buckets. They had a big tank arrangement thing and they used to empty the night soil on lots of farms. I can remember where they used to empty it most was as you go up Cambridge hill, in a field on the right hand side, they used to empty it there, and it smelt terrible! Everybody except the gentry used paper, daily newspaper. They cut it in squares, made a hole in it and put a bit of string to hang it. They only emptied these buckets once a week - it took some getting round all the houses in Godmanchester!

You couldn't afford to be ill, if you had the doctor to the house it cost 3/6d, and people had to buy their own medicine. There were only two types of people in those days, the 1920s and early 30s, that was the very rich and the very poor. There were very few middle class people in those days, and farm labourers earned about £1 10s a week, tradesmen about £2.

When I was a young lad there were no doctors at all in Godmanchester. In Huntingdon there was Doctor Hicks, old Doctor Hicks. I was biking to a scout meeting one night, I think I was nearly leaving school age, and my parents bought me an old second hand bike, but it had blocks put the pedals as it was too big for me. It was raining pretty hard, and we had oil lamps on the bikes then, and there were holes to let the smoke get out. I got to that house next to Island Hall and I had my hand over the holes, and I wasn't looking. I hit Dr Hick's car which had got no lights on it and I ended up on the ground, I felt really bad. He come out and the first thing he did, he went and switched his lights on, then he looked at me. Well he had a look at me and he could see I was all right, and I had to more or less carry this bike to the scout meeting, because when I hit the car, it buckled the front wheel, and wouldn't turn round. It was partly my fault and partly his fault; of course there wasn't good street lighting, only gas, there was no electric lighting until about the mid thirties.

We had gas in the house, but the majority of the people had oil lamps. That place that's a restaurant, (Ophelia's) was owned by a man named Searle and he was a tin smith. If people couldn't afford to have a new kettle, if it had a hole in it, they used to take it to him and he used to mend it. He had a terrific great big tank in the far corner of the shop and that was full of paraffin. Then in Earning Street, a red brick house they've done up beautifully now, a firm named Summerlight had that, and they had five vans go from there which used to cover practically every village in Huntingdonshire, and they sold other things as well as paraffin. They had this big tank right in the middle, then on the sides they had all things like household goods, jugs and bowls and things like that.

For cooking we had a coal grate, These grates had a tank at the side, that you filled up with water, and a tap. The gentry, they had the same; a big well and a pump, and pipes that took the water into the kitchen. They used to pay boys who were in the last year or so at school a shilling a week to go every night and pump the water into a tank at the top of the house and then of course it was just the same as we use water today, turn the tap on and water comes out.

There were four bakers in Godmanchester: there was Mr Bill Peck who had a bakery and house where the Comrades Club carpark is now in Cambridge Street. Another one was Mr Sedgefield who had a bakers shop where the carpet shop was in Post Street. The other baker was Miss Saint, who had a bakers shop on the corner of St Ann's lane and New Street, and Mr Higgins on the corner of London Road, I think it's a funeral parlour now. There were also twenty shops in Godmanchester, quite a lot of small sweet shops, but there was a big shop where the supermarket is now.  I can remember one of my relations having it , Mr Aubrey Markham, he was mayor of Godmanchester. That was the biggest shop in Godmanchester. We had a saddler to repair the harnesses of the horses, and the latter part of the time when people moved on to tractors, he mended shoes.  We had two more cobblers in the town, one was Mr Abbott, his shop was where the flats are in Cambridge St, we had another, a Mr Cole, he had a shop that's pulled down now next to the old Vicarage. The Vicarage used to stand where the bollards are now, they improved the corner of Cambridge Street as it was so dangerous and they pulled it down with about five cottages. There was a barber's shop, this cobbler and a real character of a man named Shepherd Abbott. He was the village pig killer, and he used to tend sheep at lambing time. I always remember going to fetch vegetables from there when I was a small boy, you opened the front door and there was one big room, and a ladder to the bedroom which had no front on it at all. You could see from the front door that there was a bed and in front of it was all onions and vegetables hanging. In September, October time, in the cold weather, he'd be round with his scratch, that's a kind of low table, with a wheel on that the pig was put on after he'd been put in the tub to get the hairs off, and then he'd be put on the top of the scratch, and Shepherd would wheel that miles. He was a very jovial old boy, liked his pint!

In my great great grandfather's time there were 38 pubs in Godmanchester, but all those that I can remember was the Railway Tavern near the bridge to Huntingdon, further down there was the Black Bull and the Rose & Crown which Mrs Hillsden owned; she was the mayor two or three times. Further down there was the Royal Oak, and one where the old post office was. Down West Street there was the Lord Nelson, and then coming from West Street the next one was the Queen's Head, (5 Old Court Hall). Bill Pendry lived there I remember him because he had a moustache with curled ends! He was also a butcher, a pork butcher. Going a bit farther there was the Exhibition, and the White Hart. The license was taken away from the Black Bull, and then Mr Yarnold owned it, he was butler for the Earl of Sandwich. Then he left and started a coal business and then a bookie's business, in George Street, Huntingdon.

The three biggest firms were Windovers, Eddison Bell and Klinger Stern hosiery mills. Windover was closed to move to London; they made the carriages for the horses, fancy carriages for the upper class. Then when motoring started you'd see these cars being driven to Windover's with just the engine and the frame, and Windovers made the bodies. Other places that involved quite a few people were the flour mills. The old flour mill that was taken down that stood where RGE is now and the big flour mill that's turned into flats. Before my time that was a big flour mill that belonged to Bateman Brown whose statue stands in Houghton. In those days a big traffic was done on the river with barges that brought the wheat to the mills, then took the flour away all over the country. Eddison and Bell carried on for quite a few years, but then they closed, and then Silent Channel took over in later years.

It was a very good thing that Klinger Stern took over there by the bridge. At one time they employed 600 people, mostly girls, which was a godsend to Godmanchester as most of the girls in the late 1920s and early 30's were in domestic service which was a terrible job. They were on hand from 5 o'clock in the morning, until 10 o'clock at night. There was a row of bells in the kitchen and each bell was numbered and each room was numbered to correspond to that bell. If the lady of the house wanted a shovel of coal put on the fire, generally one of the lower maids, such as a kitchen maid or scullery maid, had to go up about 4 flights of stairs and put a shovel of coal on, it was the same if they wanted the curtains drawing. All they got for days off was a half day on a Sunday every fortnight, and their wages were from £20 -£30 a year. I'm glad those days are over! Working in the mill was better paid. I can remember the two buzzers going off, Eddison Bell buzzer going at 5 to 8 and 8 o'clock. Klinger Stern's was the same and you could hear them going off from here. At about ten to eight there were hordes of girls walking along the Avenue. A few had bikes, but there were hardly any cars. In the 1930's people started buying motorbikes which were very popular. There were over 30 independent manufacturers that made motorbikes in this country; there's only one now. Another thing that was on the roads in those days, were steam engines carrying heavy loads from the North, they had solid tyres, and they pulled a heck of a load.

In the early 30s Godmanchester started having a 'hospital week'. They had something going on every night, and the target was to collect £100 for the hospital. They had an old car that had been smashed up, and Jim Thompson dressed up as a policeman, and he had a notice on a big board, saying "This might happen to you", and something about supporting the hospital. We had quite a lot of entertainment over on the recreation ground. We had a pole over the river, a slippery pole, and no end of races. We always got over £100!

With kind thanks to Neville for his time and Janet Walker for preparing the text from the discussions.