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Sutton Valence
Sutton Valence photos
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Sutton Valence maps
Historic maps of Sutton Valence and the local area, hand-drawn by Ordnance Survey and Samuel Lewis. View all Sutton Valence maps
Sutton Valence area books
Displaying 1 of 24 books about Sutton Valence and the local area. View all books for this area
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Memories of Sutton Valence
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Kent memories
Otham School
l started my first school in Otham in1935 at the age of four, l was living with my grandparents opposite the school called Primrose Cottage. l then moved with my mother and two brothers and sister to the Vicarage Cottage next to the vicarage until 1939 when we moved to Gillingham. My grandfather worked for the Betts family as a shepherd for 35 years. And my mother and her sisters and brother all went to Otham school.
{Rev} Henry Doyle Sewell
My great great grandfather was the Vicar or St. Peter and St. Paul. Please see http://www.robertsewell.ca/sewell.html#gen9 for further details. I suspect his remains were interred in the churchyard of St. Peter and St. Paul. Does anyone have any knowledge of this or perhaps a photo of a headstone?
Arthur Smith Was 12 When This Picture Was Taken
My dad was born Headcorn in 1891, grew up in the village. He served in the First World War and, later, moved to other areas in the south. He ceased travelling after arriving in Bedfordshire with my mother, during the Second World War when I was born.
We visited Headcorn in 1958 and 1964 but did not meet any of his relations. He had a brother John, who had a barber's shop at 6 Rochester High Street, which was still listed in the phone book until 1992.
Although I'm not 100% sure, I think Dad's father's name was George Smith and his mother's name was Jane Collinson, which I found researching the Census records.
I would be very interested to know if there is anyone left in the village that remembers the Smith family.
Hopping in Kent
Now I can't say 100% that it was Marden but it just sticks in my mind. Although I am only 31 now I went hopping a couple of times with my family who were originally from Silvertown. The last time I went was in the early to mid 1980s when everything was packing up. The things I remember about hopping was the huge cook house which had several fireplaces in along with a few old sofas and mattresses where we used to sit late into the night with everyone else who was staying in the huts. The huts were exactly that, just huts. I shared with my nan and grandad or my aunts or my dad sometimes or I would walk round the second row of huts and stay with one of my friend's family. They were made more homely with wallpaper and sideboards and kitchen tables that had been packed up in the car for that long jouney from London. In the morning the only place to shower and brush your... Read more
Hop Picking During The War
I hated hop picking. We started in 1938 to help pay for my sister's uniforms when she went to Ashford County School. At first my mother was slightly ashamed but soon entered ino the spirit and competition as to who could pick the most bushells. We had a half bin with the Worsleys having the other half. Mrs Worsley's father had been a police inspector in Tunbridge. The Worsleys were Scottish from thc 'Black Douglas' clan. (I learned much later my mother was from the Royal Stewart clan.) They supplied milk from theiir cows and coal. They also ran the fire station with their horse, which normally hauled the coal car, pulling the fire pump on its wooden wheels. Normally the horse had two speeds, stop or a slow amble, but once attached to the pump it would break into a gallop. The Worsleys were notoriously late starters so the milk was delivered in time for tea. I was let out early from hop picking to go home... Read more
School on The Hill
I have great memories of going to Sunday lunches to this lady's house. I do not remember her name but we had best china and tiger rugs (with the heads on). I was a pupil at St Mary's Convent on the outskirts of town, is it still there? My maiden name was Dalton.
Hop-Picking
As a young lad, I went with my family to pick hops near Staplehurst village, my cousin and I used to swim in a nearby river that had a bridge across it and arches under the bridge, and the arches were a great place to change into our swimming trunks. I do not remember the location of the river, but recall the happy times we had there, we found a raft that someone else had built, and we had wonderful moments there far away from the streets of East London.
