Interviewed by Betty Winwood 1993

     Hello, Beulah!
Hello, Betty!
     I believe you are Norfolk born and bred?  Born in Ludham?
Well, not entirely although my parents lived in Ludham before I was born, but I was born in a Yarmouth nursing home.  My parents came to Ludham in 1922 and I was born in 1923.
     And  what were they doing in Ludham?
They were licensees of the King's Arms - the publican and his wife and family.  They settled down to the trade of the only pub that sold wines and spirits, because the one opposite only sold beer, so a bit of one-upmanship there!
     Oh I see!  There were two pubs, weren't there?
Yes!  There was The Dog Inn down by Ludham Bridge as well.
     But you were the only one actually in Ludham?  The others had gone by then, had they?
There were three pubs: The King's Arms, The Dog Inn and The Baker's Arms but the Baker's Arms closed in 1959.

     And can you remember what Ludham was like then?
It was a very self-sufficient, compact village - everything you needed was manufactured or obtainable in Ludham so you didn't have to go out to buy anything. There were more shops which covered a multitude of requirements, and vans which delivered.
     Shops other than grocers, you mean?
Well, there were the ironmongers, drapers and the shop that sold china and tin-ware.  The bread usually came by van, normally from Roys of Wroxham or the Horning baker.
     To Throwers?
No!  They delivered to the door.
     Oh, I see!  Throwers were there?
 Oh yes, Throwers were there!  That was quite comprehensive - with newsagents!  Milk and farm butter was obtainable; that was usually delivered but during the war, you had to fetch your own.
     From the local farmers?
Yes, that's right!  From a small depot in Staithe Road - by the Church gates opposite the manor gates.
     So there must have been dairy-farms around.
Yes, there were!
     Was it very different during the war?
Oh yes!  There were many more people here.  Our population swelled an enormous amount.  There were a thousand troops and air-force and sometimes fleet air-arm and then the wives came, you see.  They all had to find accommodation.  Yes, there were many more - it was much more lively during the war in some respects!
     Were the Americans here?
Temporarily, they were up at the air-field, laying telephones so I became friendly with some of them and I wrote to them until quite recently.  From Chicago!
     I believe you were a child during the war.   Didn't you have lots of fun getting  sweets and things?
Well I was fifteen when the war started.  It was the school-children who got sweets because it was the Canadians who were based here, and some of their huts were on the school-field and they were very fond of children and they were very kind to children and there was no fear of having children with adults, in those days.
    Did any bombs drop?
Yes!  We had bombs near Rolls Garage.  Near Rolls Garage there were some stables and buildings and horses and they got killed - and in surrounding marshes but there were no bombs in the centre of the village.
     Did you see any dog-fights?
Yes!  We used to see dog-fights during the day, and at night the searchlights used to pick them up, especially when they dropped those land mines on parachutes. They used a tremendous amount of whatever explosive they used.  I'm glad they didn't drop any nearer than Potter Heigham.  Then there were doodle-bugs, of course!  And they created more fear because you never knew exactly where they were going to land.  Only if the motor had stopped!
     Did any drop on Ludham?   
No!  I think they were just over the river - How Hill way - Irstead.
     So apart from all the extra people and the troops here, you didn't have a much different way of life?
Well, we had one or two odd daylight raids - hit and run - low-flying Germans came in.  One woman was killed - where the butcher's shop is now - Mrs Powell - she was the Grocer's wife; having breakfast at the table. The windows faced east, and the bullet ricocheted over the opposite wall and killed her, and her husband died a month later from shock.  A girl was hit in the leg up the Norwich Road - in the same raid. We often used to have a little splutter in machine-gun sorties, but nobody else got hurt.
  
     Now, leaving the war and, thinking of Ludham some time ago  - when you were a child - was it a bigger place?  Was it a smaller place than it is now?
Well there are far more houses now because we've had estates built but there were far more families in those days and people lived in the centre and you knew everyone.   Absolutely everyone!  If there was a thunder-storm, you could knock on anybody's door and know you'd get shelter.  You can't do that now, because you don't know the people. I dare say you'd be welcome -because  most people you know by sight. Although there's a good community spirit here now it was even more so then because there were more people with relations living in the village.
     Have many of the old people gone or are they still here?
I suppose one generation has completely gone - a good many of those who were around then are no longer with us now.  The next generation have arrived, including myself - but yes, there's a few left with memories attached, but most of them are at the Council houses now - a lot of the older people.
     Are their off-spring here or have they gone further a-field?
No, some of them are married and gone.  There was more travelling after the war than there was pre-war because there was lots of employment in the village pre-war, now there isn't, you see.  They don't necessarily marry the local lads now; they look further a-field.

     And what about farming?  Can you remember about farming and how the countryside looked then?
Well it was quite different to what it is now - many, many more smaller fields and everything was done by hand or horse-drawn appliances and during the war, we had Polish men working on the fields.  They were in the pioneer corps, I think, and they insisted on sleeping outside, because that was what they had always done in Poland - lived and slept in the rough - so they didn't care, mid-winter made no difference whatsoever.  
Farms used to employ anything up to eight to twelve men where now it's only the farmer and his son or the farmer and one man. I remember some Canadians hooting with laughter, during the war, when they saw our horses and binders because they had got combine-harvesters and we had not!  And they thought that was very funny.
Of course, we had hedges and verges and ditches and wild-flowers then and the fields didn't have all this weed-killer, so we had poppies and corn-flowers and corn-cockles and myriads of colours in every field.  Bad farming perhaps, but it was a sight of beauty!
     Now we've got mostly grain-fields.  Were there meadows then?
No!  Because we are a marsh-land area as well, so those who had stock could take them down on the marshes and meadows which are near the rivers; the rest were arable and mixed, mostly grain - they did grow flax and then they started growing flax again;  fields of blue which were rather nice.
     Now I believe the horses didn't go until quite late - 1970?
I suppose there were one or two although our blacksmith's and farriers went out of business because there wasn't enough horse-trade, the horse-shoes and iron-work to be done on them.  They had found that it was cheaper to buy a tractor to run the ploughs than it was to have a man go to see to the horses all the weekends.  In some respects, tractors did the job very thoroughly but horses could always plod through the mud where tractor couldn't.  They got stuck. But I didn't like to see the horses sweat at the harvest time, covered with flies.
     Did the local people go into the harvest much?
Well yes, because there were a lot of men working the harvest fields and their wives would take their 'foursies' (the 4pm break for 'foursies' and refreshment: bread, cheese, cake, cold tea and beer) and picnics and things and, as I didn't go to school, I would join them and ride the horses -help or hindrance whichever - and thoroughly enjoy a day in the harvest field - an abundance of rabbits with no fear of myxomatosis then - so everybody had a rabbit for their dinner after the harvest was over.  Yes, it was good fun!

     You talked about school .  You didn't go to school?
No!
     Can you tell me anything about that?
I started school at six - I was late going to school because I was under-sized and I was found to have tuberculosis so from the age of six to the age of fifteen, I missed all those school-years and I was taught privately when I could go down to Coldharbour Farm, down the bottom of Staithe Road, by a lady - she didn't fear infection but I wasn't allowed to mix with children at that time.  There were several children with TB at that time but I was so under-sized - I think I weighed three stone when I was nine years old so that shows how puny I was.  I learned the basics; the three R's, the piano and violin and to draw and a few other essentials or perhaps, non-essentials.  It's stood me in good stead, I think. 
     I think it was more than basics!  Piano and violin!
Well, her window, unfortunately, faced St Benet's Abbey so I used to go into a trance thinking of the monks and their chants and the ruler used to come down hard on my hand to wake me up.
     Were you the only one who didn't go to school?
No, there were two or three more with tuberculosis and one or two went to sanatoriums but I did not, because I was undersized and they thought I might pick up a different strain of the disease.  So I was allowed to run wild.  Fresh air and cold was about the only thing they gave you.  There were no antibiotics or anything like that
     I suppose you helped your parents in the pub?
Well when I got to the age of fifteen, I got over the tuberculosis.  The war had started and my sister was married - she was nine years older than I was, - so she had been helping my parents for some time.  That's when I came into the trade; housework in the morning, piano practise in the afternoon perhaps or gardening and a rest and then bar-work in the evening.  I quite enjoyed it - it was full of life but I had to make sure I didn't get overtired.
     Your piano-playing stood you in good stead because you used it quite a lot.
Well I passed up to grade six in piano grades and my mother was a very good singer.  She'd had lessons from a  Mr Stimpson who had taught Queen Victoria's grandchildren and had an annuity through that and he taught Mother who lived at Aldeby at that time, where he was. She loved to sing, so naturally, she liked me to be able to play up to standard so that she could perform.  Then gradually, I began to play for sing-songs and the customers used to like community singing.  I preferred classics but they liked community singing so that's what we had.
     Your customers - were they local shopkeepers?
Yes, all the local people came.  I suppose they were mostly men, we didn't get so many women in pubs in those days.  It was a general meeting place and even in the dinner hour, they always used to find time to call in for a pint and a gossip and as they knew each other the comments were worth hearing sometimes.
     What about the shops? Were they different then from now?
Well, there was Cook's shop, which is now a sort of holiday house, and that was the oldest house in Ludham. They sold groceries and drapery and china and they delivered!  And there was Thrower's shop which did the same.  There was a cobbler's shop which did shoe repairs; there was the post-office which also had a grocery shop.  There were two butchers, England's and Hall's butchers; there was a corn-chandlers and there were two coal merchants and a pork-butcher; and a harness-maker and two blacksmiths.  So they more or less covered everything and, as I said, the bread came in from Nicholson's in Horning as a rule.
What about visitors?  Were there tourists in those days?
Mostly private!  You didn't have quite so many boatyards with boats to let.  They were privately owned boats.  Herbert Woods was established but they hadn't got as popular as they are now.  The rivers weren't so overcrowded, by any means and we used to have the big wherry, Olive, come up and that used to cause great excitement because -  (NORFOLK ACCENT) 'Did you know the Olive was coming up to Womack?'  Occasionally they fell in and then, if they did that, they would go to the King's Arms to dry out because we had the fire and the warming spirits within, you see!
     There weren't the boats that we have today, then?
Not that I know of, no!  You could hire a boat.  There was a man named Jimmy Beaver at Womack and he had these sort of boats with slatted seats like you see in the old films - sort of Victorian-type punts and Mrs Thrower of the post-office, she used to row her son, Frank, and me from Womack right round to Thurne Church.  We used to have a walk round there and then we came back again.
     How long did that take, then?
Oh, several hours, I should think.  The dog used to fall in once or twice on the way.
 
      What about transport?
 We were well-away for transport because about 1926, I think, the Eastern Counties Bus Company came.  They used to come from Yarmouth to Ludham, stay the night and then go back.  They did the same from Norwich and then later on, they went right through.  We got to know the drivers because they slept at the King's Arms, you see but then they went right through.  There was an hourly service both ways and that was frequently used, because people didn't have their own cars or transport in those days - if they needed to go out at all, that is.  I always used to go to Yarmouth and Norwich as well, each week, on the bus - half a crown return - 2/6d - 12 1/2p.

     But what about trains?
Trains from Potter Heigham!  Yes, people did use them - if you wanted to go to North Walsham.  A lot of the children who passed the 11-plus went to Paston Grammar School, boys in particular in those days, and they would bike to Potter Heigham and get the train to North Walsham, Cromer or anywhere like that.  And, of course, summer visitors came down to Yarmouth from the North on the Potter Heigham line.  That was their main form of communication.
     It must have affected you quite a lot when the stations were closed.
No because we had got buses and things like that and people had got cars - I suppose that was one of the reasons they perhaps were not being used quite so much.
     But the children couldn't get to North Walsham?  To school!
No but I suppose they had public transport by then - buses!

     And what about the schools in Ludham?
Well, the first school was a Church school, 1841, and they had enrolment.  I think they had to pay a fee because it wasn't every child who went to that school.  It wasn't a very big register, I noticed.  I think Ludham Board school started in 1872/3, and by that time there were compulsory education laws, and they went up to standard seven - and I suppose there would be head masters who lived in the school-house and about three other teachers and they took them through all grades and they were very well educated in those days.  Nobody left school without being quite competent.           .
     So this school here was from five years old to fourteen, when they left.
     Where was the Church school?
In Norwich Road!  That was built as a Church school.  We got a faculty from the bishop because that comes in the area of the churchyard - it was built in the churchyard - and it was extended by Edward Boardman - there was quite a lot of building done because it had a playground in the front and just a little school at the back - extended and re-thatched and that was quite a large room.
     Was the playground where that car-park is, by the foundry?
No, the front part of the church rooms - that was the playground.
     And there was no road there?
Yes!  You didn't need much road space in those days because you didn't have such big vehicles.  Roads were narrower.

     Now something quite different!  I believe Edward Seago lived here, at the Dutch House.
Yes!
     The Royal Family came often?  Do you know anything about them?
The Queen came because he painted her portrait.  I believe she was sitting on a horse. They made several visits.  Usually the grapevine was leaking so all the locals were in the streets to see her go by, and it was a great occasion for us because we all got personal waves according to where we were standing.  I always used to make sure I was standing on my own, further down the road so I got first wave.
The Duke used to take Princess Anne and Prince Charles on the river - on Womack - in a rowing boat, and then there's a willow tree planted at Womack, on the other side, and that was planted by the Queen Mum.  She put that in!  Yes, they did come frequently.  I've got some photographs of them standing by the door.

     You told me a little bit about pub life - it was mostly men.  Opening hours - were they restricted?
Opening hours were usually from ten to two and from six to ten in those days, unless you'd got an extra special licence for a special occasion. Sunday, I think, was a twelve o'clock opening and seven o'clock at night.  That meant that my father had to wait for my mother, my sister and myself to come out of the church (because we were all in the choir), before he could open the pub.  That meant there was a queue outside the doors, getting impatient. Visiting the pub was a social occasion in those days.  They came for the company.  There wasn't television - there were other things going on in the village like whist drives and billiards and things like that, but they liked the company.
     Did you do food?
Bread and cheese and pickled onions for four old pence, you know. The Queen's Mother's cousin came - the Honourable Bowes-Lyons he was, and Mother hadn't anything to give him only bread and cheese and he thought that was perfectly acceptable; he didn't expect anything else from a country pub.  Ploughman's lunch was what ploughmen ate in those days.

     Yes!  Going on to housing now -   I understand that sanitation came rather late to this village.
During the war, sewerage was laid for the army camp and the air-force, so after they left the newer houses were built on those areas.  They had the sewers but the rest of the village didn't, until quite late - I suppose it would have been about 1960/65 when we were all connected.  Before that, most people had large back-gardens and an earth-hole at the end of the garden because they had pail-closets.  I don't think anyone had Elsan pans or anything.  Everybody was in the same boat, and you know, it had a wonderful effect on the garden when you grow your crops on the same area after a few years.  But I believe everyone's fully equipped now.
     But I believe Whitegates didn't have theirs until the seventies.  Is that right?
Possibly, Yes!
     That seems so late!
Yes!  That was late.  The main sewers didn't get everywhere at the same time.  It's like electricity. That was in the centre of the village but not on the outskirts for some time.  It depended where you lived.
     You had electricity during the war?
Oh yes!  About 1924/25 I should think.  I was quite small when they laid that because the electricians left one of the boards out of the main bedroom floor and my mother fell through, and injured her leg.  Now I was quite small.  She had to go to a London Hospital through that because they couldn't do much about healing in the Norwich area, so that must have been around 1925.
     And before that, you had gas or just oil-lamps?
We had candles! Even when we had electricity, we didn't have it in the long corridor at the King's Arms and it was a very long staircase and a very long corridor to go up there with a candle, when you were a child.  We had oil-lamps in the public rooms at first.
     Everybody had it in the bedrooms?
No!  There weren't plugs for radiators.
     Oh, no heat?
No heat!
     How did you heat?
We didn't!  For one thing, I wasn't allowed heat - with TB, you can't have heat.  You had to sleep with the windows open even in winter-time, when the snow came in and was lying on the floor.  That was cold when you went across it to go to the door!
We only had the ordinary coal-fire.

    Now you were talking once about speech.  You don't really speak dialect.
Well I don't think anyone speaks dialect these days.  Norfolk!  You get the Norfolk twang, as I call it - the flat sort of intonation - but if you lived in a public house and somebody asked you for something, they wouldn't know what you had said if you replied in Norfolk, so my mother was strict about how you spoke.  Her mother, who kept the Aldeby Tuns and was also a licensee, she was strict and very accurate how she spoke, so I suppose we didn't speak in the broadest of broad Norfolk but if we did, it is very hard to understand some of it.
     Perhaps you were bi-lingual - at home spoke in dialect?
Well I suppose I could understand it.  The locals, when they came in, you had to really listen intently sometimes.  They ran it all into each other, and (IN BROAD NORFOLK ACCENT)'Hev you hev a drink a'long o' me, ol' boy?'
     You, I suppose, can understand what the butcher says?
Oh yes!  I can understand him, can't you?
      Not always.  He speaks so quickly, you see.  Quite often I can't understand what he says.
Well in this area, we are not so broad-speaking as they are at Aldeby where my grandparents came from - where my husband came from. They still have a real Norfolk way of speaking.
     Can you say some of that in Norfolk accent?
Well I was there recently and someone went past on the footpath and said, (IN A VERY GOOD BROAD NORFOLK ACCENT) 'Who's that a-going up there?'  'Oi don't know him, do you know him?'  'I he'nt seen him a-fore?
   
     Were there any great changes in village life after the war?
It seemed very quiet after all the troops had gone.  There were no more dances at the NAFFI and the pubs had plenty of beer, which they certainly didn't during the war.  It would come in on the Thursday and we were always sold out by the Sunday.  So after the war there was less trade.  Things did seem quiet.  People were no longer satisfied with local community things; they went further afield for their entertainment.  Petrol restrictions were being lifted and they'd been working away - some of the locals. So yes, there were changes, and not entirely enjoyable.  I found it a little bit boring after the war, to tell you the truth.
     I suppose television came?
Oh, much later!  Yes - much later! 

     I understand you are the keeper of the Parish Records.  How did you get that job?
Yes!  Mrs Snelling, who was Churchwarden, emigrated to France in 1974 - she retired from the Church Council and she asked me to take the job on, you see.  Not as Churchwarden but as Keeper of the Records and I asked her would there be much call on them and she said it depended, and I found it does!  Sometimes you get a lot of people and they come from quite a long way away - I get a lot of post for requests as well.  Our records date from 1583 in burials, marriages and baptisms and they are in very good condition and they throw a picture on Ludham of long ago; of trades and families and disease.  I find them immensely interesting and I do enjoy helping people to draw up family trees, especially when I can find them a relative that they didn't know they had.  They often locate them.
     So from these records, you find that people from Ludham have gone all over the world.
Indeed they have!  Because in the 1800s, they were having assisted passage to Canada, Australia, New Zealand, because there wasn't a lot of work here.  We had then come into the Industrial Revolution time, when there was more machinery - such as threshing machines and things like that, so they didn't need so many men and they were at a loss as to know how to earn a living.  So they emigrated.

     Can you finish up reading a little bit in the Norfolk accent, please?
Well here's a poem written in 1972 so things have altered a little bit.  Some is in my voice, and some, I hope, is in Norfolk:
            
Oi lived in that there ol' house
For'y years or more,
Now I see that's up for sale -
I'll tell you 'bout it, boy!

That there adverts wholly nice,   
 Say, 'A rare old gem,' that do
But them wot's lived there as long as me
Know a thing or two.

'An isolated treasure,'
Huh!  Four miles from the shop and pub!
'With a wealth of beams and old oak,'
Woodworm and lice are a-running the club.
     
'Climbing roses surround the windows,'
You can't hardly see for the gloom!
'An enchanting, winding staircase,'
Don't try to get up there with the broom!

'The original lime-washed, plaster walls,'
And cracks and missing bricks, too!
'The novel pitched bedroom ceiling,'
Wot let the rain right through!