Hurst Green, London Road c1955

Where I grew up

I was born at 19 London Road, Tanyard Cottages near Holy Trinity Church. My grandadparents lived in Station Road near the village hall.  My great aunts owned Hope Cottage Farm, Station Road. Many times when I was a kid I would stay on the farm and helped in the shop, milking the cows, bottling the milk which then would be delivered by the family. Also helped at Christmas time plucking turkeys and chickens. The family had several P.O.W.s. helping on the farm. Look at the photos on this site, this is just as I remember the village when I was a child. My parents still live in the village and we often still go for walks in Burgh Wood. I also went to the primary school, brownies etc.
Village life is not the same now, I remember my mum could buy everything she wanted in the village but now has to go to Hastings.

Christmas in the Snow

My maternal grandparents owned "Old Timbers", the 15th century cottages in the High Street (numbers 55-59, I think) from the early 1950s to around 1970 or 1971.  They actually lived in one of the cottages from 1960 to around 1966 or 1967.  My family spent many happy summer holidays with my grandparents during the mid 1960s, but my favourite memory was the Christmas of 1964 when we travelled by train to spend that holiday with them.

It started to snow as we journeyed and I remember the train journey was long drawn-out.  We had to change several times - I particularly remember sitting in the waiting room at Tunbridge Wells - in order to get there in the evening.  It was dark when we finally arrived and the snow was on the ground.  It was wonderful to get to the cottage with a fire blazing in the hearth.  My sister and I slept in a small bedroom at the top of the cottage which you had to reach by what seemed to us to be a very steep, narrow staircase.

Great was our excitement on the following morning to awaken to the results of what Father Christmas had brought us all.  A cowboy outfit - complete with a silver toy pistol -and a plastic figurine of Admiral Lord Nelson - were the gifts I most recall from that Christmas.  I think my mother has some photos of that time, including one of me with my cowboy stuff on standing next to my grandmother.

Robertsbridge in the 1960s - just after many of the Frith photos were taken - was a fairly quiet place but for the busy A21 which then ran through the village.  I know that my grandparents were not happy with the traffic disruption, especially as the pavements by their home were very narrow.  This is why they moved out after only a few years although, as I have said, they retained ownership for about three or four years before they sold the cottages.  Nevertheless the village and their home will always remain a very blessed memory for me: the beautiful countryside; the proximity to Battle and the coast at Hastings and Bexhill.  I am pleased for the village that it was eventually by-passed and the cottages and other dwellings in the High Street can enjoy relative peace.

Visits to my Uncle at Robertsbridge

As a small child I would travel down by train with my nan and stay at my Uncle George Bowen who lived in Langham Road,
Most important thing before boarding the train in London was to get in the right section for Robertsbridge, the platform was too short for the train - get in the wrong place and you would be outside the actual station.
His sister Ethel got on the wrong section on one occasion and found no platform so tried to get out and ended up falling out onto the railway line - she was always doing silly things like that.
We would walk along from the station and along a stony road, soon knew if my shoes were a bit thin by the pain of the stones through them.
My uncle lived next door to his neice and strange as it would seem the lady on the other side of him had the same surname though no relative.
Nan and I would walk into Robertsbridge shops, I loved going past the old houses the type that when you walked into the front door you would immediately enter the front room with their windows showing nick-nacks.
We would walk along one part out into the countryside where there was a blue bell wood, very sad to say when I returned there many years later the wood was gone and there were now houses.
Traditionally we would visit Battle and have a cream tea at the little shop near the castle, we would also go into Hastings.
My memories of a quaint village staying with my uncle, although retired when I visited, he used to work at the cricket bat factory.
He had a dog called 'Pip' which went missing the whole village went looking for Pip and he was eventually found caught in a 'trap' after that Pip always walked with a limp.
Uncle George also had a huge garden where I used to help him with all his vegetables and fruit.  When we travelled back by train we would go back laden with apples, pears etc.  
It was the high-light of my summer holidays my visits to Robertsbridge I remember it always being warm and sunny when I was there and a sense of stepping back in time - not much traffic coming through the village at that time.  Old fashioned shops which most of them when you went into them you went down a few steps.

Ah happy days.

Mountpumps Farm, Flimwell

I would love to hear from anyone who remembers my parents Les and Sheila Pickering who farmed Mountpumps Farm in Flimwell from about 1944 to 1951. Mrs Everett owned the farm and rented it to my parents. I know they were there during the later part of the Second World War because my father told me he had prisoners of war working on the land. It would be so interesting to talk to anyone who remembers them. My father was quite a charcter, he was born in 1901 and died in 1986. My mother died in 2003. She was a land army girl and met my dad on one of the farms he worked on before Mountpumps. It is not until you lose your parents that you wish you had asked about their past and written it down. My father did write a memoire but Mountpumps was not mentioned. Please email me if you know them.