Here Jo Jones recalls more of her father's recollections.

Dad told us that his family, the Watermans, had lived in Bishop Stortford or in the area for a very long time; probably for several centuries even in 1903 when he, Leslie William, was born. This is corroborated by the number of gravestones bearing their name in the churchyard and cemetery and town records.

William and his brother, Ernest, were born in the same old building where their father and his two brothers had been born and brought up. The double-fronted shop faced a narrow street with living accommodation behind and bedrooms on the First and second floors overhanging the basement.

The cellars were not used but had been wine cellars at an earlier time when the buildings were part of the palace of the Bishop of London. The major, and best-preserved part of the building, had been transformed into a traditional Elizabethan inn, and was of more than passing historical and architectural interest.

Part of the remainder had been demolished by the Watermans and a new, combined shop and house built in its place. The original XIVth or XVth century building was retained in the occupation of the family.

(Unfortunately, Dad did not disclose what street this was in, but maybe from this description, someone reading this could enlighten me.)

William's Grandfather, a schoolmaster, died in his early thirties. He left a widow and three sons. How she managed on her own is not recorded, but certainly it could not have been easy.

The eldest son, Ward, became a prosperous, high-class tailor; Ernest and William's father, Edward Charles, established his own business in the family home; and the third son called Ted became a brilliant musician with his own orchestra.

Why all three were named after their father, Edward, is not recorded. All three Waterman brothers were black-haired and brown-eyed with dark, almost Spanish, complexions.

Each had a broad nose and a well-trimmed black moustache. They were of medium height and Father (William) inherited the same physical features. Unfortunately, Dad never said much about his brother Ernest, and I have no record of how he looked.

William remembered his Uncle Ward as being a kind, generous, hardworking and patient man. He had a good bass voice and sang in the Cathedral choir. Apparently, in later years, his daughter also sang there. Ward's son became a well-known conjuror.

William only recalled his younger uncle, Ted, as a 'joker' and a wit. However, he described his father, Charles Edward, as independent, combatitive, domineering, selfish and dogged! He also remarked that he seldom smiled and rarely laughed.

William went on to acknowledge that his father did have enormous 'drive', owning two businesses, a tobacconist and a music store. He was also on the Town Council as 'overseer of the poor'.

William's mother, Eliza Jane Clark or 'Jenny' as she was called, came from a respectable middle-class family with Scottish origins. Ernest was 12 years older than William and was thought, by his parents, to be 'retarded', due to having been dropped by an inexperienced maid as an infant.

But, judging by today's standards, in actuality, he probably suffered from some form of dyslexia. As he was in the army during the 1st World War and, as some of the male descendants of the Waterman family do suffer from various mild forms of dyslexia, I think this is far more likely.

One of the first recollections of the infant, William, was of sleeping in a cot beside his parents' black iron and brass double bed. The floor tilted slightly towards the window and it creaked when an adult crossed the room.

In the early 1900's there was no electricity in the houses and shops and, in the Waterman's shop and house, there was only gas lighting on the ground floor. (He mentioned 'fishtail burners' only in some cases.)

Upstairs they relied on candles. There was no indoor plumbing. Water was on tap only in the kitchen. Each bedroom had a washstand with a marble top and a chamber cupboard underneath. A large basin stood on the marble and in it an ewer of water. This was filled daily by the maid.

A soap dish and a tumbler completed the washing arrangements. A mahogany 'night commode' stood in the corner of the principal bedroom and, in the back of the room, was a 'powder closet' enclosed by a door. Dad said it still smelt of powder that had been used by countless occupants over the centuries!

A small window in this closet overlooked a yard and a fairly large weather-boarded building known as the 'schoolroom'. This was so called because Grandfather Edward Waterman had taught a group of children an elementary curriculum of education there.

In the yard's centre was an apple tree, which had outgrown its enclosure and spread itself over the adjoining roofs. It was known as 'Waterman's Seedling', which, of course, it must have been. Despite it's restricted space it succeeded in bearing heavy crops of eating apples.

Rose bushes grew along the eastern fence with anenomies, lilies of the valley and ferns on the narrow border below them. Geraniums stood in ascending rows outside the kitchen window. Honeysuckle covered the path leading to a coal store and the W.C. And the whole of the gable end above the kitchen was covered by a white grapevine which produced large bunches of sweet eating grapes each year.

A second large bedroom led off the first. This had been originally Ernest's and then became young William's. Another door opened onto the dark staircase lit only by the back bedroom window overlooking the backyard.

At the foot of the stairs was a small hall for hats and coats, and this led to a passageway separating the two shops from the living room. The two shop premises were actually divided by shelves and showcases. The smaller store was the tobacconist and the larger, devoted to music and musical instruments.

The boys' granduncle, another Charles (I do not know the surname), lived in a small village three or four miles from the town where he owned an inn, a blacksmith's shop and several cottages. He was, however, no ordinary innkeeper or blacksmith.

It is doubtful if he ever served a customer at the inn, and he certainly did not work in the blacksmith's shop. Father remembered him as a tall, full-bearded man of imposing presence. And he remembered him always in a top hat with a rounded top, frock-coat, expensive waistcoat with a double gold watch-chain, a blue or spotted cravat attached to a spotless white collar and well-creased trousers to match the frock-coat.

He always carried a gold-headed cane and smoked what seemed to be an endless supply of Havana cigars.

The back parlour of the Inn had a wide, open fireplace where oak logs burnt all day in the winter time and not only gave out a good heat but also an unmistakable scent. In front and slightly to the far side of this fireplace stood Uncle Charles' armchair which no-one dared to touch or sit upon!

On more than one occasion, apparently, William had watched the slow progress of his uncle down the centre of the village street, followed by the squire's horse and carriage driven by a fawn coated coachman, complete with black cockaded top hat.

The coachman made no attempt to pass the erect, commanding figure in front of the horse's head, nor was there any protest from the occupants of the vehicle. When the cigar-smoking gentleman arrived at his destination he would turn off the roadway and disappear with a polite wave of the gold-headed cane in the direction of the carriage.

Whether this was a gesture directed at the coachman, the passengers or possibly the horse, is not recorded! I guess life moved more slowly in the beginning of the 20th Century.

Changing the subject to children's pastimes, in the early 1900's amusement was 'home grown' and most members of a family played some sort of musical instrument.

Dad was sent to a piano teacher, Mr. Pickess I think Dad said the name was, or something very similar. Apparently he was a tall man with white hair and beard, pink cheeks and bright blue eyes. He had a very placid, gentle temperament and had to walk with crutches, as his left leg was much shorter than the other.

He had endless patience and he tried his best to instil some knowledge of the piano into the totally disinterested boy whose thoughts were elsewhere: in the hills, woods and streams of the countryside.

William's mother always addressed him as Pickess and referred to him in that way when speaking to others. Mr. Pickess had a primitive machine that produced an electric current. Two wires from it ended in a pair of handles giving whoever held on to it, a shock, which supposedly, was beneficial for health.

On one occasion William was allowed to turn the handle for Mr. Pickess but he discovered by turning the handle faster and faster he could increase the electric output, to the point where Mr. Pickess' hands and arms went uncontrollably up and down like pistons and completely unable to let go.

Happily William's grandmother came in from the kitchen to investigate the noise and put a stop to the proceedings. Thereafter, William went to a lady teacher who eventually refused to continue as William rarely practiced, and that was the end of a promising musical career!

At least once a week William's Great Aunt Sarah drove into Bishop Stortford in her pony tub and took him back home with her when she returned in the afternoon. He was fond of his Great Aunt and very glad to be invited to stay for a day or two at the inn.

But it was his Great Uncle Charles who was the real magnet that drew him there again and again. He looked forward to the rare occasions when he was given a hug and kiss and the opportunity to savour that gorgeous combined scent of whiskey and Havana cigars!

A few hundred yards from their inn were steep grassy fields and, in the winter, when covered with snow, William was able to toboggan down them at great speed on a home-made sledge kept in the blacksmith's shop for his use.

When it rained during the journey from Bishop Stortford, his Great Aunt would put up her enormous umbrella over them, and this he thought great fun, watching the outside world from beneath its shelter and listening to the rhythmic clip clop of the pony's shod feet on the roadway.

In the summer he was able to mix with the local schoolboys. Rounders with a soft tennis ball was a popular game then. (Was this the origin of American Baseball?)

Another game was Tippit, played with a long stick and a short one about six inches long and sharpened off at each end. The object of the game was to hit the short one, on one of its sharpened ends, making it fly into the air and, then, while in flight to hit it a further distance than any other player.

A satisfactory hit entitled one to a second turn before retiring. Marbles of coloured stone and many coloured glass were greatly prized and played along the street gutters when dry. As there was virtually no traffic those days, except for the occasional horse and cart or bicycle, there was no danger. A marble hit by an opponent's marble was forfeited.

It was much more interesting, however, to procure spigots from beer barrels and use them as 'dollies'. Usually, it was the wealthier players (wealthier in marbles) who controlled the dollies. The dollies were stood four, five or six in a row alongside a wall but not too close, to avoid rebounds and about three inches apart.

Friends were then invited to throw their marbles at the dollies. Every throw which knocked over a dolly earned two back to the thrower, otherwise his marble was lost.

A great deal of exercise was obtained by bowling hoops along by hitting them with a stick, which also controlled their speed and direction. The smaller children had wooden ones, but soon graduated to iron hoops.

The river that ran through the centre of Bishop Stortford and the barge wharves were all but on William's doorstep. So one of his occupations, when out of school, was to go looking for Roach, Tench and Pike and, of course, crayfish. He obtained kipper heads from his mother or the fishmonger for bait.

His method for catching crayfish was to lower a 2-3 ft. square piece of chicken wire (secured by string at each corner) and joined on a single rope. The kipper head was placed in the centre of the wire and, after dark, it was gently let down into the water where crayfish were known to hide in holes in the boarding, which held up the sides of the rough roadway leading to the fields. (This was not in the river, but at one of the streams feeding into it.)

The boy holding the cord could feel the crayfish walk onto the wire and all he had to do was pull it up. However, catching pike was another matter entirely and William's method would not have been regarded as sporting. And was probably illegal.

The system was to use three large eel hooks, carefully bound together. A long fishing rod and ample time were the other necessities. According to William and his friends this 'method' was called 'snatching'. The next step for success was to spot a fish. William knew most of their haunts.

The triple hooks were delicately dropped fairly close to a big pike and let sink below its body and then strike fast. The pike would be caught by the hooks in its body and thrown on shore!

Another pastime was playing ducks and drakes. William formed a cricket team at his school consisting of friends and schoolmates. They played on the football field at the rear of the castle and he was their Captain!

I would like to add that his enthusiasm for cricket continued through his life. In fact, for some years he captained the Coolham Cricket Club (near Horsham). We kids still remember the trestle tables being set up for food during a match and the home-made ginger beer cook would make in vast quantities and the tents overlooking the pitch. In fact, my sister Judy and I (we were quite small) wandered around sipping at drinks left around! Until we were found out

Jo Jones, Canada, 2002