Memories of Rickmansworth

I put this down to highlight the excitement, almost awe, a youngster like myself felt entering fairyland.

In the village we had candlelight and oil lamps, coal fires for heating and cooking. A cobbled yard at the back of a row of terraced houses contained the earth bucket toilets, one running water tap for communal use and around the fencing hung the tin baths. Bath times were fun.

There were six of us. Mum, dad, two sisters, one brother and myself. We did not know it at the time (pregnancy was a taboo subject) but mum was expecting another baby.

Dad worked on the railway line of the now defunct LMS branch line from the station in Church Street.

The six of us shared one room upstairs and one down in a terraced house belonging to Tommy Nobbs (brother of Nobbs the baker in the High Street) in Norfolk Road.

Although there for only around 18 months, I have some happy memories of playing in the road, marbles, five stones, hop scotch, under flickering gas lamps.

Another game was knick knack knocker. We tied up a row of door knockers, rapped on one, ran like mad and hid to watch the fun and listen to the language as door after door was opened and closed so lifting the knocker next door. I look back in shame now as I remember how funny it seemed to tie an empty can to a cat's tail and watch with glee as it went clanking away.

One depressing thing about Norfolk Road was the queue of unemployed at the tin hut, the dole queue. The men in their threadbare suits and cloth caps collecting their dole money and signing on.

In 1924 the family consisting of mum, dad, and four children aged from nine downwards moved to Grove Road, Mill End, where a council estate was being built. No doubt the imminent arrival of my brother put us to the top of the list.

The house was a mansion, three bedrooms, lounge, front room, kitchen complete with a copper.

There was on the side of the kitchen a coal shed and WC. A high legged bath and flush toilet inside was real luxury, of course, as indeed was water "on tap" indoors day and night. After knowing only candlelight, the gas mantles were really magical.

The novelty of gas lighting had not worn off and we were delighted when we were allowed to put a lighted match to the gas mantle and hear the pop. Later of course was the wonder of pushing a switch down – electricity had arrived (installed after houses were built).

The council estate was still being built, unpaved gravel roads, no fences.

Mill End, Rickmansworth and Croxley were, to all intents and purposes, separate villages.

There was no love lost between the Ricky "Bloaters" and Mill End "Kippers".

Croxley Green was rather remote. A place which one went through on the way to Watford on open top buses with solid tyres or to work in the paper mills.

Rickmansworth was the comfortable middle class in the posh area. Nightingale Road was an area later to be developed as the Cedars Estate. Ebury Road came within this category taking in the vicarage and The Bury. Beyond this and to Batchworth and Wharf Lane was the "working class" area.

Mill End, of course, was beyond the pale. Tiger Bay was an area one did not linger in unless living there. In the 1920's up to the early 1930's police patrolled at night in pairs. There were frequent calls to settle domestic arguments. Street brawling was prevalent at turning out time.

The Vine and The Tree pubs, situated on opposite sides of the corner of Church Lane, were noted for their rivalry. Fights between the two lots of drinkers often ended in farce should some unfortunate man lose his sense of direction after a set to and go into the enemy's pub causing another set to.

We had a local bobby, Old Smithy, who lived in a police house in Gonville Avenue. He was a friend of everyone, young and old, and much respected. At times, we youngsters were caught doing something wrong such as playing football in the street.

Summary punishment for the unlucky who were caught was no fun for we received a whack across the back from a policeman's rolled cape, especially if one was unlucky enough for it to be the large buckle and chain fastener end.

In the 1920's radio was in its infancy. To buy one was beyond the means of dad. He used to build his own cat's whisker crystal set (valves came later) and also for the neighbours. There were no amplifiers just earphones. To enable us to hear as well, dad had a large pudding bowl into which he placed one of the earphones. I remember listening around 4 o'clock one morning to the notable Dempsey-Tunney fight relayed from America. There was massive static as the cats' whisker tried to home in one the station.

MR BERT SADLER (born 1915) of Rousebarn Lane, Croxley Green