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Goudhurst, Twissenden Manor 1904
Goudhurst, Twissenden Manor 1904 Ref: 52562
Memories of Goudhurst, Twissenden Manor
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Goudhurst & local memories
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Year: 1953
Forge Farm
Just found this site while looking for Chinley which I believe is close by. Forge Farm memories of the fun times we had as children hop picking with nan and gran-dad, dad and mum, aunts and uncles and of course my siblings. At that time the farm supplied student teachers for the children's education, no one went as we were all too busy playing or fishing in the pond in the middle of the common. Home was a corrugated iron hut, very basic, the bed was made from timber poles with slats laid across. I remember we always took a large cotton mattress case with us and it was our job to fill this with straw supplied by the farmer, if you have never slept on a straw mattress it was always warm. Because there were so many of us the farmer allowed us to take away a section of the joining iron sheet to make two huts into one and put in real glass windows. Cooking was over an open wood fire in the cookhouse, you never went hungry in the country, there was always something to eat, be it scrumpt or poached or caught in Bedgebury Lake, the lake on the common is still there. Picking the hops was the job of the adults with nan in charge, we were employed if we were around to pull the vines down from the wires, nan's hands used to be a blur when she was picking, or was it because we were children, when the tally man came around she would insist that she shook the hops to get as much air into them as possible (they were measured by the basket) so more air meant less hops to each basket, therefore more baskets. Dad always got a job in the oast house drying the hops and then pressing the hops into the large sacks called pokes. I would be riding on the tractor with Wally (how did his name pop into my mind) who showed us how to make clothes pegs and wooden flowers. We continued picking at Forge Farm for many years and just recently I took my niece to see where her dad, my brother, (who has passed away) spent many summer weeks. Upon returning home to Peckham and going back to primary school we would be put into a class that they thought was appropriate, we always caught up with the lessons but had a much richer education because of going hop picking. Last edited: 18/09/2008 16:45 by Tom Cole |
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Year: 1959
Hop fields A memory of Horsmonden, Kent Horsmonden - the end of my hop picking days. I was born in east London 1939 and hop picking was four weeks in the country, camp fire cooking in the evening, a sing along and down to the Gun or the Town House on Saturday evening. Then came 1960 and I was called up for National Service spending two years away. I have now retired and acquired a PC. I have found the internet to which I am new to and found your site. Lots of memories came flooding back and I can find a use for some spare time. Thank you for a new interest. Brian Last edited: 10/04/2007 10:29 by Brian Long |
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 Lamberhurst, the Broadway from the Bridge c1960 (ref: L323058) |
Year: 1960
THOSE LONG LOST DAYS IN LAMBERHURST A memory of Lamberhurst, Kent New Added 7 days ago It was indeed interesting reading Roger Barden's account of Lamberhurst, but feel he has left out a few salient points. Of course Curtis the newsagents and Avards the bakers with the ever inquisitive Mrs Avards were selling that delicious bread and sweets for the children going to school. But of course there was just up the hill Gurr's the butcher's complete with pony & trap to deliver his meat together with a very young Peter Sands who went on to have and maintain his own business in the village. Along from Avards, Fred Ashdown briefly had a barber's shop, and next to him was Reeve's the grocers and where the post office is now sat this little lady, whose name I never knew, who sold various materials and balls of wool. Next to that was Avard's Garage, selling petrol at four shillings and seven pence per gallon, and next to that was the Redman garage, which whilst also selling petrol was mainly concerned with the repair of vehicles. Next to that was the sweet shop, namely Fuller-Waters, where we all tried, mainly in vain, to buy our beloved Woodbine cigarettes, or if extremely flush with pennies then perhaps even a packet of Peter Stuyvesant – all the way from America. Across the road was of course the Chequers, which only a few years previous had been given up by the Beech family after one hundred and sixty seven years of tenure, now being run by Frank Pearce. Across the bridge was the George & Dragon; something of a snobbish place, because everyone who went there seemingly had large Rover type cars. Unfortunately, when the school dentist ‘hit town,’ it invariably parked in the George & Dragon car park, and put literal dread into every schoolboy and girl going to school. Next to the George & Dragon was of course the infamous Crown Chemical pharmaceutical manufacturers and distributors, complete with Bill Hayler who seemingly had been with that company since Noah was a kid. Back over the road was once again Avards, but this time it was Avards coaches, and how we used to look forward for an actual ‘day out’ at the seaside. The usual haunt would invariably be Hastings, but occasionally it was Eastbourne, and once as I recall even Margate. (Not many working people had cars in 1960.) A little way up School Hill was Evans the grocers, with whom my father worked as a van driver for many years. Again, there were not supermarkets in these salad days and the local shop really was worth its weight for local people. Then of course the school, complete with Mrs Motram who taught the infants, Miss Price the next age group, then the smack happy Miss Blackford and finally the ever drunk and in my opinion downright vicious Mr Black the headmaster. He really loved swinging that cane, especially after he had completed his ‘liquid lunch’ at the Chequers and had actually decided to return to class. Suffice to say the village has undergone some serious makeovers since those seemingly far more simple days. We see the lahdy-dah and green welly brigade and of course those that felt a second home in the country was ‘after all desirable.’ No more Mr Farmer making ready for the village fete (as well as being the school caretaker), or Dr Woods taking exceptionally good care of his patients using his own made up (and incredibly bad tasting) medications, but not having to follow the endless red tape of modern times… It is easy to reminisce at old Lamberhurst and see faces now in the churchyard, and we as scruffy children allowed to run wild and free. Even the local policeman (PC Hollands) gave me a clout around the ear for scrumping strawberries from Fermer’s farm, and threatened me with ‘prison’ if he caught me again. This put the fear of God into me and when I found a half crown right outside the police house (opposite Furnace Avenue) I rushed to his door frantically knocking because as a seven year old child I was convinced PC Holland was ‘setting a trap.’ When Mr. Holland did eventually come to the door and listened patiently to my tail of truth, he beamed a big smile, put his hand in his pocket, pulled out another half crown and gave it to me for being honest. Those acts (the clout for taking strawberries coupled with the policeman giving me the ‘reward’) have put me in good stead ever since. Last edited: 17/11/2008 08:47 by Mike G. Beech |
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Lamberhurst, the Broadway from the Bridge c1960 (ref: L323058) |
Year: 1957
Car-number-plate collecting A memory of Lamberhurst, Kent Brings back memories of hot Sunday afternoons sitting on the bridge with my mates collecting car number-plates. I was nine years old and lived at 1 Workhouse Cottages, in Brewer Street with Miss Mabel Alice Ranger. I was a little tyke with short long trousers. I also remember swinging on the pendulum of the school clock and getting the cane for it. I was not at school often as I tended to play truant. I remember all the shops in the village: Curtis the newsagents, Avards the Bakers and the old hairdressers shop on the corner. There was also a confectioners called Fullers - opposite The Chequers - where I used to get ice-cream and fizzy pop. As lads we would always be golf-balling to earn money. Hope to visit old haunts one day soon. Posted: 12/11/2007 20:22 by Roger Barden |
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 Lamberhurst, Hastings Road c1955 (ref: l323010) |
Land Army memories. A memory of Lamberhurst, Kent The white weatherboarded house was the farmhouse of the farm where my mother, Joyce Clark, worked along with another 3 girls in the Land Army during the Second World War. It was called Cogger's Farm. She was there whilst the Battle of Britain was fought overhead. They grew hops, wheat, barley, oats and enough vegetables to supply the local school. The oast houses behind the house belonged to the farm. The hops were picked each year by families from the east end of London who came down and made a holiday of it. They slept in stone outhouses in the farmyard on straw pallets. My mother was billeted with Miss Parrot (along with another Land Girl called Lot) in a house off the photo on the first road to the left (shown as a weatherboarded house on the right of photo L323039). Every Sunday Lot and my mother had to sing hymns around the piano and if they went to a Saturday night dance they had to be in by 10pm! Last edited: 18/10/2006 12:45 by Anne Allan |
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