My childhood in Hildenborough and some pub stories
by Lynne Page
by Lynne Page
Throughout life we have experienced many things, our childhood initially shaping our characters to a certain extent. The following is about my happy childhood living at The Old Cock Inn pub. Firstly though stories relating to the pub that I found interesting from articles I've gleaned.
My grandparents Henry & Violet Spooner (nee Perrin) moved to the Old Cock Inn pub from West Norwood, Surrey in 1934. It had previously been run by the Walter Palmer family and then was a freehold pub. By the 19th Century most of the 35,000 acres of hops were grown in Kent. Hops were first imported in 1524 from Holland, France & Germany for agriculture. Once hand -picked the hops were sent to the oast houses (freestanding kilns) for drying. 'Ale' brewed without hops & 'beer' brewed with hops added. When we lived in the pub, Whitbread (founded in 1742) and Fremlins (founded in 1862) were the owners. The pub in the 16th Century could have served medieval type of ale made from grain, water & fermented with yeast. Beers in early 17th Century also being made from malted hand cracked barley and soaked in hot water to ferment producing many light or dark brown beers. Said to provide nutrition, hydration for all classes of people if you could afford it.
Tonbridge Police Court issued the transfer of licensing to publicans. On the 28th May 1892 The Old Cock Inn application was for the licence from Thomas Peters to Walter Palmer, but in this case it transpired that the agreement produced was not stamped, and was only a quarterly agreement instead of an annual one, and the Chairman warned the applicant that by the next annual licensing meeting he must be 'armed' with an annual agreement, properly stamped between himself and the landlord. Parliament had introduced the Licensing Act in 1872.
Walter Palmer, sons Walter and Alfred later that year had to front a court regarding an incident in November 1892 when delivering seven old diseased horses kept in the field behind the pub bound for a knackers yard in Wandsworth. The boys set off before 3am, walked from the pub to Edenbridge train station where the horses were loaded onto the train. Then at Croydon an Inspector Ormond from the Royal Society of Animal Cruelty saw the horses being unloaded from a truck to a cattle dock, one had knees cut & flesh hanging, two with overshot fetlocks. A witness in court stated seeing the horses walking okay at 7.30am when passing through and Bough Beech, another saw them at rear of the pub field the day before. The defence denounced the Royal Society, said though doing good work by its officers, they had 'manufactured evidence' from the defendants who after all they were intending to prosecute. They had no proof the horses were unfit to walk when they first set out. The Bench retired and the Chairman stated case fully proved. Walter Snr. paid 9 pounds in fines & court costs. This really does highlight to what extent the Palmer family had to go to earn money for this type of business.
My grandparents Henry & Violet Spooner (nee Perrin) moved to the Old Cock Inn pub from West Norwood, Surrey in 1934. It had previously been run by the Walter Palmer family and then was a freehold pub. By the 19th Century most of the 35,000 acres of hops were grown in Kent. Hops were first imported in 1524 from Holland, France & Germany for agriculture. Once hand -picked the hops were sent to the oast houses (freestanding kilns) for drying. 'Ale' brewed without hops & 'beer' brewed with hops added. When we lived in the pub, Whitbread (founded in 1742) and Fremlins (founded in 1862) were the owners. The pub in the 16th Century could have served medieval type of ale made from grain, water & fermented with yeast. Beers in early 17th Century also being made from malted hand cracked barley and soaked in hot water to ferment producing many light or dark brown beers. Said to provide nutrition, hydration for all classes of people if you could afford it.
Tonbridge Police Court issued the transfer of licensing to publicans. On the 28th May 1892 The Old Cock Inn application was for the licence from Thomas Peters to Walter Palmer, but in this case it transpired that the agreement produced was not stamped, and was only a quarterly agreement instead of an annual one, and the Chairman warned the applicant that by the next annual licensing meeting he must be 'armed' with an annual agreement, properly stamped between himself and the landlord. Parliament had introduced the Licensing Act in 1872.
Walter Palmer, sons Walter and Alfred later that year had to front a court regarding an incident in November 1892 when delivering seven old diseased horses kept in the field behind the pub bound for a knackers yard in Wandsworth. The boys set off before 3am, walked from the pub to Edenbridge train station where the horses were loaded onto the train. Then at Croydon an Inspector Ormond from the Royal Society of Animal Cruelty saw the horses being unloaded from a truck to a cattle dock, one had knees cut & flesh hanging, two with overshot fetlocks. A witness in court stated seeing the horses walking okay at 7.30am when passing through and Bough Beech, another saw them at rear of the pub field the day before. The defence denounced the Royal Society, said though doing good work by its officers, they had 'manufactured evidence' from the defendants who after all they were intending to prosecute. They had no proof the horses were unfit to walk when they first set out. The Bench retired and the Chairman stated case fully proved. Walter Snr. paid 9 pounds in fines & court costs. This really does highlight to what extent the Palmer family had to go to earn money for this type of business.
This historic 500 year old pub in the Walter Palmer days also became a place where drovers stayed while attending the Tonbridge markets besides some lodgers and other travellers. Walter's April 1895 advert states: 'The only horse slaughterer in the district. Best harness oil & cart grease. Best prices given for live or dead horses. Every description of dead cattle bought and taken at shortest notice, telegraph attended to punctually'. An electrical telegraph was in use from 1840 until mid 20th Century. It was a point-to-point text messaging system and then gradually replaced by other telecommunication systems. As children we were fascinated when we found and collected many horses teeth in the garden while playing. We were quite oblivious and innocent as to how they got there and this was never disclosed to us.
It was on 21st July 1913 when some local women who supported the National Union of Women's Suffrage movement set off from Tonbridge to march to London. First they listened to a speech at Angel Corner by Australian actress Muriel Matters. In 1909 she'd chained herself to a grille within the House of Commons in a bid to get the British lawmakers to give women the right to vote as the men did in England. The women then proceeded to march on through Hildenborough to join the huge rally in Hyde Park. One can picture many locals from every village pub en route including the Old Cock Inn witnessing them marching on London Road. Imagine the conversations and opinions voiced when seeing them!
Ellen Palmer carried on running the pub after her father died in 1927. Her sister Elizabeth Naomi Palmer was born in the pub and married Arthur Cottingham. Afterwards they held a reception for 40 guests at the pub and probably both sisters had done the catering beforehand. Walter had lived through WW1 running the pub with his wife, daughters, and the slaughter business with his sons collecting and delivering of animals before he died in 1927. Hitler a few years later had come to power in Germany in 1933. The British leaders by 1934 were afraid that their cities and towns could become targets for bombing later on. They began making 'secret plans' to move infants, children and some adults to the countryside should this happen. These plans did go ahead in August 1939 in 'Operation Pied Piper'. School-age children, pregnant women, toddlers with their mothers being sent to the countryside from London for safety. Many relocated arrived at Tonbridge Railway station. The reality of war had then just set in for people. The London Blitz began on the 7th September 1940 with as many as 348 German bombers and 617 fighter planes attacking the city of London. For months cities like Portsmouth, Plymouth, Bristol, Glasgow were also bombarded.
- It was commented in a 1905 court case while renewing his licence, the fact that they also provided trace horses to help wagons and carriages up Riverhill from the pub. One of his sons, James Palmer, died in 1912 while transporting a horse carcass from Limpsfield Chart. The cart overturned after hitting a bank landing on top of him breaking his neck. He was only 20 years old.
It was on 21st July 1913 when some local women who supported the National Union of Women's Suffrage movement set off from Tonbridge to march to London. First they listened to a speech at Angel Corner by Australian actress Muriel Matters. In 1909 she'd chained herself to a grille within the House of Commons in a bid to get the British lawmakers to give women the right to vote as the men did in England. The women then proceeded to march on through Hildenborough to join the huge rally in Hyde Park. One can picture many locals from every village pub en route including the Old Cock Inn witnessing them marching on London Road. Imagine the conversations and opinions voiced when seeing them!
Ellen Palmer carried on running the pub after her father died in 1927. Her sister Elizabeth Naomi Palmer was born in the pub and married Arthur Cottingham. Afterwards they held a reception for 40 guests at the pub and probably both sisters had done the catering beforehand. Walter had lived through WW1 running the pub with his wife, daughters, and the slaughter business with his sons collecting and delivering of animals before he died in 1927. Hitler a few years later had come to power in Germany in 1933. The British leaders by 1934 were afraid that their cities and towns could become targets for bombing later on. They began making 'secret plans' to move infants, children and some adults to the countryside should this happen. These plans did go ahead in August 1939 in 'Operation Pied Piper'. School-age children, pregnant women, toddlers with their mothers being sent to the countryside from London for safety. Many relocated arrived at Tonbridge Railway station. The reality of war had then just set in for people. The London Blitz began on the 7th September 1940 with as many as 348 German bombers and 617 fighter planes attacking the city of London. For months cities like Portsmouth, Plymouth, Bristol, Glasgow were also bombarded.
An article dated 12th April 1929 spoke about a ‘Dart Club Supper’. The first Annual supper of 'Ye Old Roosters Dart Club' was held. Mr Watson (president) presided over 20 members of the club. The supper was followed by an enjoyable smoking concert. The catering arrangements were carried out by Miss Palmer & Miss E Palmer. During December 1931 there was also a 'Thrift Club', a total of 204 pounds, 6s 6d was distributed by Mr C.Smith amongst the 60 members. Maybe this was for the darts or billiards members who played and had contributed to throughout the year in small instalments.
There was an interesting incident on Sunday 6th July 1930 when a group of 120 men from 4 coaches got off and stampeded into the bar. It was 9.40pm and they were refused drink due to it being so near closing time. The crowd became very impatient, very loud using bad language and one man punched and knocked down a partition. There were 19 glasses broken, 1 bottle of port, 1 bottle of ginger wine, a clock, 4 packets nuts & raisins and 14 cigars damaged. Men were shouting in the carpark wanting to know who had caused the trouble and fighting broke out. In court the two men who were meant to be in charge of the group had to pay 35 shillings for damage and 22 shillings each in costs.
My grandfather was a baker by trade and had received compensation due to a work injury. Possibly the reason why they decided to move to the village of Hildenborough. His brother Herbert Spooner (ex police sergeant) was licensee in 1931 of the Plough Inn, Westfield, and in 1938 of The Shakespeare Hotel in Sittingbourne (renamed The Cherry Tree). Later he ran The George Hotel in West Malling with son Stanley also a victualler. My mother Joyce had previously been a book-keeper in a London store. The move with her sisters she thought was to a typical ‘chocolate box’ type of pub nestled in the countryside. Instead, she said that the pub was miserably cold, draughty and very dirty. The pub took a lot of elbow grease to get it to the standard my grandmother required. Mum had left her own friends and work colleagues for this new start in the pub. Quite a challenge for them all to cope with a complete change of lifestyle and also gradually getting to know the locals who were so used to the Palmer family running the premises for so many years. My mother's two brothers continued to live in the West Norwood house. They'd enlisted to fight in the war and my mother and grandmother took it in turns to go up to West Norwood for a few days to clean and cook for the two boys.
In the Sevenoaks Chronicle dated 26 Nov 1937, a talking parrot was for sale and to apply to the Old Cock Inn. I am unsure if it had been inherited from the Palmer family. By 1939 Mrs Cottingham (now divorced), son Ivan and her sister Ellen now lived in the newly built Orchard House next to the cottages. Sam & Audrey Kelvey later purchased and lived in this house.
There was an interesting incident on Sunday 6th July 1930 when a group of 120 men from 4 coaches got off and stampeded into the bar. It was 9.40pm and they were refused drink due to it being so near closing time. The crowd became very impatient, very loud using bad language and one man punched and knocked down a partition. There were 19 glasses broken, 1 bottle of port, 1 bottle of ginger wine, a clock, 4 packets nuts & raisins and 14 cigars damaged. Men were shouting in the carpark wanting to know who had caused the trouble and fighting broke out. In court the two men who were meant to be in charge of the group had to pay 35 shillings for damage and 22 shillings each in costs.
My grandfather was a baker by trade and had received compensation due to a work injury. Possibly the reason why they decided to move to the village of Hildenborough. His brother Herbert Spooner (ex police sergeant) was licensee in 1931 of the Plough Inn, Westfield, and in 1938 of The Shakespeare Hotel in Sittingbourne (renamed The Cherry Tree). Later he ran The George Hotel in West Malling with son Stanley also a victualler. My mother Joyce had previously been a book-keeper in a London store. The move with her sisters she thought was to a typical ‘chocolate box’ type of pub nestled in the countryside. Instead, she said that the pub was miserably cold, draughty and very dirty. The pub took a lot of elbow grease to get it to the standard my grandmother required. Mum had left her own friends and work colleagues for this new start in the pub. Quite a challenge for them all to cope with a complete change of lifestyle and also gradually getting to know the locals who were so used to the Palmer family running the premises for so many years. My mother's two brothers continued to live in the West Norwood house. They'd enlisted to fight in the war and my mother and grandmother took it in turns to go up to West Norwood for a few days to clean and cook for the two boys.
In the Sevenoaks Chronicle dated 26 Nov 1937, a talking parrot was for sale and to apply to the Old Cock Inn. I am unsure if it had been inherited from the Palmer family. By 1939 Mrs Cottingham (now divorced), son Ivan and her sister Ellen now lived in the newly built Orchard House next to the cottages. Sam & Audrey Kelvey later purchased and lived in this house.
When the Spooner family took over the pub, Whitbread - Fremlins Breweries had already started to have further plans for their pubs. My grandparents had already requested for changes and upgrades to basically give them better living conditions. Work was carried out later. An article in the Kent & Sussex Courier dated 8th April 1938 headed “House of Whitbread take the Initiative " stated the rapid and important transformation public-houses had been undergoing. This to show how important it was to 'retain its humanising influence as a community centre' and 'a place of entertainment'. An exhibition of painted prints, drawings of inn signs and photographs was held at the New Burlington Galleries, London by Messrs. Whitbread & Co. the famous brewers as it was then described. In 1955 they were still producing miniature 3"x2" Whitbread Inn signs for collectors. Maybe a local has one of these still.
The Old Cock Inn did have plenty of entertainment way before the Palmer & Spooner families ran it as did many other pubs. Annual singing concerts continued with one held by landlord Mr Tamkin in Feb 1860 for local and surrounding districts followed by a supper. These suppers sometimes would have been a cooked meal for the middle/upper class. Supper for the lower working class in the 1860s was usually bread, cheese, maybe cold meat and extras for those who could afford it. Many meetings like The Conservative Club met there. Inquests and cases discussed about disorderly conduct held in these smoky bars. In both bars, cigarettes, tobacco-filled pipes and cigar smoking would have made the air very stuffy especially when the log fire was also alight.
In February 1877 there were plans to pass a resolution to lay and supply a water-main pipeline to eight parishes from Sevenoaks to Tunbridge Wells and this included Hildenborough. Not sure if next article has anything to do with this plan. Maybe celebrating the prospect of the piped water? The article of June 1877 states that 'rough music' was played from the village to the Upper Cock Inn. The procession of 50-60 people for five evenings made this trip banging tin cans, kettles and trays. The assembly being headed by the sound of a horn playing. Apparently when passing the Lower Cock Inn, patrons threw a few rotten eggs at them but other than this, the proceedings were said to be quite orderly!
I found a great promotional advert dated 6th Dec.1946 for the Brewery Society. It states: 'There is nothing like a game of darts in an English pub for promoting a steady hand and a ready smile for darts is essentially a friendly game. That is why it finds its proper setting in the public-house where every man is as good as his fellow, and where friendliness and good sportsmanship abound as nowhere else'.
The Old Cock Inn did have plenty of entertainment way before the Palmer & Spooner families ran it as did many other pubs. Annual singing concerts continued with one held by landlord Mr Tamkin in Feb 1860 for local and surrounding districts followed by a supper. These suppers sometimes would have been a cooked meal for the middle/upper class. Supper for the lower working class in the 1860s was usually bread, cheese, maybe cold meat and extras for those who could afford it. Many meetings like The Conservative Club met there. Inquests and cases discussed about disorderly conduct held in these smoky bars. In both bars, cigarettes, tobacco-filled pipes and cigar smoking would have made the air very stuffy especially when the log fire was also alight.
In February 1877 there were plans to pass a resolution to lay and supply a water-main pipeline to eight parishes from Sevenoaks to Tunbridge Wells and this included Hildenborough. Not sure if next article has anything to do with this plan. Maybe celebrating the prospect of the piped water? The article of June 1877 states that 'rough music' was played from the village to the Upper Cock Inn. The procession of 50-60 people for five evenings made this trip banging tin cans, kettles and trays. The assembly being headed by the sound of a horn playing. Apparently when passing the Lower Cock Inn, patrons threw a few rotten eggs at them but other than this, the proceedings were said to be quite orderly!
I found a great promotional advert dated 6th Dec.1946 for the Brewery Society. It states: 'There is nothing like a game of darts in an English pub for promoting a steady hand and a ready smile for darts is essentially a friendly game. That is why it finds its proper setting in the public-house where every man is as good as his fellow, and where friendliness and good sportsmanship abound as nowhere else'.
My father, Clarence Delville-Pratt (known as Clive) was manager of the International Stores in Sevenoaks High Street. As a widower, he married my mother Joyce in 1942 and initially they lived in Sevenoaks. They would also have helped at the pub. My mother also assisted with the book-keeping for the International Stores. They took over running the Old Cock Inn completely after grandfather died in 1948. I understand the licence may have been transferred to be in my father name. Grandmother Violet Spooner later moved to Riding Lane with daughter Phyllis. They later on moved to Royal Avenue, Tonbridge.
My sisters and I remember fondly the days as children living in the pub. Sister Carol, myself and twin sister Marjorie were born upstairs in the pub. Eldest sister Joan was born in Sevenoaks. As toddlers we probably had been bounced on many a knee by customers to try and make us giggle or be quiet! The regular customers really being a huge part of our lives. At 6 months of age my twin sister and I were unfortunate to be in our bedroom when a paraffin heater started giving out fumes. Our cries were heard and naturally everyone was in quite a state when entering the bedroom filled with black sooty smoke, including us. Much concern amongst the pub regulars besides our parents as it could have resulted with a very unhappy ending. My mother said that for a few days afterwards we were still passing black 'matter' in our nappies.
My first very clear childhood memory was when my father's brother Ernest and Aunt Lily visited from Brisbane, Australia. They'd caught the Greenline Bus from London and walked towards us carrying two material type dolls with pointy heads that were taller than us twins. Occasionally we met my father off the bus and just before he neared the bus-stop, he'd put one leg out for fun. Unfortunately one year he alighted when the bus had not fully stopped and fell onto the pavement much to our distress at seeing him so grazed. We probably had not given him enough space to find his footing.
There had been a car accident outside the pub one rainy night and the occupants I remember coming in being offered help. People like the chimney sweep, the fishmonger, milkman and other pub deliveries etc. Johnny Stewart always arriving with a huge box of cherries, strawberries etc. Sometimes I'd look out the Public Bar window finding it interesting watching cars drive past guessing what colour the next one would be.
My sisters and I remember fondly the days as children living in the pub. Sister Carol, myself and twin sister Marjorie were born upstairs in the pub. Eldest sister Joan was born in Sevenoaks. As toddlers we probably had been bounced on many a knee by customers to try and make us giggle or be quiet! The regular customers really being a huge part of our lives. At 6 months of age my twin sister and I were unfortunate to be in our bedroom when a paraffin heater started giving out fumes. Our cries were heard and naturally everyone was in quite a state when entering the bedroom filled with black sooty smoke, including us. Much concern amongst the pub regulars besides our parents as it could have resulted with a very unhappy ending. My mother said that for a few days afterwards we were still passing black 'matter' in our nappies.
My first very clear childhood memory was when my father's brother Ernest and Aunt Lily visited from Brisbane, Australia. They'd caught the Greenline Bus from London and walked towards us carrying two material type dolls with pointy heads that were taller than us twins. Occasionally we met my father off the bus and just before he neared the bus-stop, he'd put one leg out for fun. Unfortunately one year he alighted when the bus had not fully stopped and fell onto the pavement much to our distress at seeing him so grazed. We probably had not given him enough space to find his footing.
There had been a car accident outside the pub one rainy night and the occupants I remember coming in being offered help. People like the chimney sweep, the fishmonger, milkman and other pub deliveries etc. Johnny Stewart always arriving with a huge box of cherries, strawberries etc. Sometimes I'd look out the Public Bar window finding it interesting watching cars drive past guessing what colour the next one would be.
The Old Cock Inn was a very popular pub during my childhood with many sing-a-long evenings especially at the weekends with the piano being played. Mum may even have had a little Babycham drink too as a treat. Many wartime songs, including Vera Lynn's 'We'll Meet Again' to the jolly 'Knee's Up Mother Brown' were sung at full volume as the evenings progressed. Smoking was a big thing with customers in between drinks. As children we were used to much laughter that came out of both the public and saloon bars. Regular customers I remember were Frank Goldsmith, Frank & Eadie Wickens, Ted Brooks, Mr & Mrs Moore, Arthur Sadler, Ernie & Christine Kennard, Rory & Chris Rawlinson, Doris & Arthur Barton, Fred Coles, John & Mimi Stewart from Nizels, Peggy & Harry, Hugh, Scottish Rory (in his Messerschmitt), Commander Sherwood & Tony, The Heymers, Captain Pop White, June & Jack Webber, plus the AA man Mr Marshall, Chief Insp.Percy Datlen etc. Frank & Kath Horner (Masters Cafe) and Sam & Audrey Kelvey came in later years. Mrs Cottingham, her son Ivan, Bill Miller & Josie and others lived next to the Old Cock. At times we would appear at the door to the busy public bar pestering for something but mostly it was just to have a sticky beak.
Both bars became our play area once the patrons had left during the weekends and school holidays. We amused ourselves playing bar billiards, darts or just running around. The large attic was also another play area that kept us occupied and out of sight. On reflection we probably gave our parents a break with taking our noisy selves to so many places. Later still, the modern fruit slot machine was in the public bar. We had fun hoping for three of any fruits in a line to hear the coin discs clatter out with a win . At one time I had a pair of second-hand rollers skates and use to go from one end of the bar to the other. I gave them up when basically I winded myself falling back onto the floor one day. Sister Joan use to practise playing the piano, we'd only tinker on it.
Capt.William Allison White VC, known as Pop White played the piano and lived at The Crusaders of St George Bungalows at No.8. The bungalows were initially built for war disabled soldiers and was officially opened in 1928. The very first occupant at No.7 was Private Ernest Oldroyd who lost both legs in Armentières during WW1 when a grenade was thrown. (He'd served with the 7th Battalion, Norfolk Regiment). He had a wife and two children. I'm sure locals gave them much support. The land had been donated by Mr Sydney Constable (who lived at Nizels Hoath) and the bungalows were built by Mr R.Killick. Mum had mentioned that during the war years soldiers would march past the pub and many times would stop and stay overnight sleeping on the pub floor before heading off the following morning.
Before Christmas we would practise putting on a family 'show’ & when older we included a dance/gymnastics to Cliff Richard's 'Bachelor Boy'. The large burning fire in the bar certainly created a wonderful atmosphere with its familiar large black kettle. Both bars we always decorated with the holly and mistletoe we’d collected. Homemade paper chains and paper bells made it festive for all of us. Just securing the paper chains to the yellow tobacco stained ceilings was a challenge in itself. With our christmas stocking secured at the end of the bed we tried keeping our eyelids shut tight if we woke while ‘Santa’ was filling the pillowcase with presents. I never did get the sleigh or Jack-in-the-Box that always went on my list. Amongst the quickly unwrapped toys we had slippers, nightwear etc. There was the 'Big Bumper' puzzle and colouring book with crayons. The Christmas tree always lit up with the fairy lights, tinsel, silver paper wrapped chocolate, coloured baubles we'd decorated earlier adding to the Christmas atmosphere.
Both bars became our play area once the patrons had left during the weekends and school holidays. We amused ourselves playing bar billiards, darts or just running around. The large attic was also another play area that kept us occupied and out of sight. On reflection we probably gave our parents a break with taking our noisy selves to so many places. Later still, the modern fruit slot machine was in the public bar. We had fun hoping for three of any fruits in a line to hear the coin discs clatter out with a win . At one time I had a pair of second-hand rollers skates and use to go from one end of the bar to the other. I gave them up when basically I winded myself falling back onto the floor one day. Sister Joan use to practise playing the piano, we'd only tinker on it.
Capt.William Allison White VC, known as Pop White played the piano and lived at The Crusaders of St George Bungalows at No.8. The bungalows were initially built for war disabled soldiers and was officially opened in 1928. The very first occupant at No.7 was Private Ernest Oldroyd who lost both legs in Armentières during WW1 when a grenade was thrown. (He'd served with the 7th Battalion, Norfolk Regiment). He had a wife and two children. I'm sure locals gave them much support. The land had been donated by Mr Sydney Constable (who lived at Nizels Hoath) and the bungalows were built by Mr R.Killick. Mum had mentioned that during the war years soldiers would march past the pub and many times would stop and stay overnight sleeping on the pub floor before heading off the following morning.
Before Christmas we would practise putting on a family 'show’ & when older we included a dance/gymnastics to Cliff Richard's 'Bachelor Boy'. The large burning fire in the bar certainly created a wonderful atmosphere with its familiar large black kettle. Both bars we always decorated with the holly and mistletoe we’d collected. Homemade paper chains and paper bells made it festive for all of us. Just securing the paper chains to the yellow tobacco stained ceilings was a challenge in itself. With our christmas stocking secured at the end of the bed we tried keeping our eyelids shut tight if we woke while ‘Santa’ was filling the pillowcase with presents. I never did get the sleigh or Jack-in-the-Box that always went on my list. Amongst the quickly unwrapped toys we had slippers, nightwear etc. There was the 'Big Bumper' puzzle and colouring book with crayons. The Christmas tree always lit up with the fairy lights, tinsel, silver paper wrapped chocolate, coloured baubles we'd decorated earlier adding to the Christmas atmosphere.
Our eyes widened when seeing the beautiful blue flame when the Christmas pudding was struck with a match. The sixpence found in the pudding mixture carefully put on the side of the plate. Everything stopped to listen to the Queen's speech and then we were very quiet. The smell of homemade mince pies still seemed to linger long after we'd eaten some of the christmas cake with its marzipan and icing. At bedtime we'd put on our new quilted dressing gown over our flannelette nighties and proudly wear the new fluffy slippers. Board games like snakes & ladders, ludo, jigsaw puzzles were put away. At that age we never fully appreciated the hard work our mother Joyce put in to make such great festivities, she really was wonderful.
It was a New Year's Eve when a local policeman still in his uniform rode a push bike around the saloon bar tables to many cheers from customers. I’m not sure if he was off duty but no one seemed concerned even if he was. I clearly remember seeing him tackling the table corners. New Year's Eve was always a great occasion with 'Auld Lang Syne' heartily sung. We would join in singing this with the customers when older. Our arms crossed over gripping another person's hand either side of us. A wonderful moment being surrounded by our regular customers.
Springtime we loved walking through the wood across the field behind the pub when the bluebells were out. On Easter Sunday we would get up quietly and creep out of the pub early to collect the primroses from the wood just off the main road at the end of the car-park. These were to decorate the breakfast table with before our parents woke. My sister Joan cut out and made a cardboard hen one year for the boiled eggs to go under. Pop White's bungalow was next to the the primrose wood across from Vanstone’s kennels . I've seen an article stating the Vanstone's six year old daughter got knocked down by a car while playing on the verge near the wood with friends in 1937 and sadly died.
Our chores before the bars opened at weekends was to help my father restock shelves with cigarettes, chocolate bars in the glass cabinet and bottled drinks. We would happily struggle up the stairs from the cellar with a crate of beer, bottles of soft drink ready to unload. The bottles we always wiped over carefully making sure all labels were facing the same way with everything in a straight line. We chopped some wood too. Weekend winter afternoons after lunch if not outside, we watched Saturday wrestling matches, the ice skating or Liberace Show on TV.
It was a New Year's Eve when a local policeman still in his uniform rode a push bike around the saloon bar tables to many cheers from customers. I’m not sure if he was off duty but no one seemed concerned even if he was. I clearly remember seeing him tackling the table corners. New Year's Eve was always a great occasion with 'Auld Lang Syne' heartily sung. We would join in singing this with the customers when older. Our arms crossed over gripping another person's hand either side of us. A wonderful moment being surrounded by our regular customers.
Springtime we loved walking through the wood across the field behind the pub when the bluebells were out. On Easter Sunday we would get up quietly and creep out of the pub early to collect the primroses from the wood just off the main road at the end of the car-park. These were to decorate the breakfast table with before our parents woke. My sister Joan cut out and made a cardboard hen one year for the boiled eggs to go under. Pop White's bungalow was next to the the primrose wood across from Vanstone’s kennels . I've seen an article stating the Vanstone's six year old daughter got knocked down by a car while playing on the verge near the wood with friends in 1937 and sadly died.
Our chores before the bars opened at weekends was to help my father restock shelves with cigarettes, chocolate bars in the glass cabinet and bottled drinks. We would happily struggle up the stairs from the cellar with a crate of beer, bottles of soft drink ready to unload. The bottles we always wiped over carefully making sure all labels were facing the same way with everything in a straight line. We chopped some wood too. Weekend winter afternoons after lunch if not outside, we watched Saturday wrestling matches, the ice skating or Liberace Show on TV.
The 'Watch with Mother' ran on the BBC in the early 1950s included programmes for the very young like Andy Pandy (with Looby Loo), The Flower Pot Men (with Weed), Sooty & Sweep, and Popeye (with Olive Oyl). We all had to be silent when the Saturday football results came on for my father to check and mark off his Littlewoods football coupon. From 1955 Dixon of Dock Green, The Little Rascals with Alfalfa, Wagon Train and later in the 1960s programmes like Bonanza, Z-Cars, Flintstones and Coronation Street were on. The 'Carry On' films we loved seeing. The drama 'Whistle Down the Wind' with Hayley Mills in 1961 really was one I loved and in the same year 'Stranger on the Shore' with Acker Bilk playing the theme song was a must to watch. The Royal Variety Performance (organiser Val Parnell) at the Palladium had comedians like Benny Hill, Tommy Cooper, Harry Worth, Eric Sykes, Arthur Askey, Tommy Trinder, Frankie Howerd and many more. Billy Cotton & his band played. Singers like Max Bygraves, Petula Clark, Lonnie Donegan, Russ Conway on piano. We selected a soft drink, like Vimto, and a chocolate bar for this viewing. Bath night with towels on the copper were warmed up for us with hot water bottles made in winter for when we got into cold beds. I shared a double bed with my twin and most nights we'd roll over gripping our side of the sheet and blankets so the other would not gain extra inches of material until we fell asleep.
Summer trade, the packed London red double-deck buses returned from the coast and filled the carpark. Mrs Kennard & Mrs Rawlinson helped with others behind the bar. We also helped when older to wipe up glasses or even pull a pint before ‘last orders’ were called for patrons. We collected the empty glasses from the carpark and from inside the red buses wearing our summer dresses. Our highly polished leather sandals, clean white socks, ribbon or hair band in our hair made us presentable and we were eager to help. Earlier we had helped butter the small bridge rolls ready to be filled. Our mother would have spent most of the afternoon baking sausage rolls, cheese straws, and making many sandwiches for the customers. These and the Smiths crisps with a blue wrapped salt filled packet, mixed fruit & nuts, chocolate bars were typical of light pub food available then. The pork and egg pie also being a favourite.
There was singing, laughter from the revellers inside and out (I doubt we even realised some were quiet tipsy). The slow weekend traffic jams on the London Road went through Tonbridge High Street and past the pub. They were frustrating for drivers but they always kept people staying longer drinking if they were heading north towards London.This of course was before the A21 by-pass which opened in 1966. Reluctantly we would finally be called in to go to our beds. With all the excitement in the bars, piano playing, singing and noise from the carpark it was asking a lot to expect us to even nod off. They were long summer evenings with so much daylight to linger on. My sisters and I would ‘hang out’ the bedroom window to watch the people. On one occasion a man got on another’s shoulders and passed up some bridge rolls and crisps. Mum always came up to kiss and tuck us in. Have to admit that she came up those stairs many times to catch us out of bed.
Holidays and weekends we also amused ourselves walking across the fields to Nizels, Philpots, Eggpie Lane and further with a soft drink and snack. Sometimes we’d have to hurry across the fields to see the Golden Arrow train just to wave to the driver and passengers. This was a luxury train service that existed from 1929 to 1971 and went from London to Dover. Passengers then caught the ferry that linked up with another train to Paris. Having been told what time to be back we enjoyed this total freedom roaming the countryside. Probably were trespassing in fields we crossed but never gave it a second thought. Once I found a lot of lovely white ‘powder puffs’ by a field gate and admiring my find, rubbed them against my face, oh.. so soft. Once it dawned on me they were the tails of rabbits I threw them straight to the ground in utter horror and disgust. Often we did see a farmer with his shotgun ready and waiting for rabbits to pop out from the hedgerows. Sister Carol and I also took tennis rackets to the top field and hit a ball back and forth before the evening drew in and we'd hear our mother call us to come back in before it got dark.
Summer trade, the packed London red double-deck buses returned from the coast and filled the carpark. Mrs Kennard & Mrs Rawlinson helped with others behind the bar. We also helped when older to wipe up glasses or even pull a pint before ‘last orders’ were called for patrons. We collected the empty glasses from the carpark and from inside the red buses wearing our summer dresses. Our highly polished leather sandals, clean white socks, ribbon or hair band in our hair made us presentable and we were eager to help. Earlier we had helped butter the small bridge rolls ready to be filled. Our mother would have spent most of the afternoon baking sausage rolls, cheese straws, and making many sandwiches for the customers. These and the Smiths crisps with a blue wrapped salt filled packet, mixed fruit & nuts, chocolate bars were typical of light pub food available then. The pork and egg pie also being a favourite.
There was singing, laughter from the revellers inside and out (I doubt we even realised some were quiet tipsy). The slow weekend traffic jams on the London Road went through Tonbridge High Street and past the pub. They were frustrating for drivers but they always kept people staying longer drinking if they were heading north towards London.This of course was before the A21 by-pass which opened in 1966. Reluctantly we would finally be called in to go to our beds. With all the excitement in the bars, piano playing, singing and noise from the carpark it was asking a lot to expect us to even nod off. They were long summer evenings with so much daylight to linger on. My sisters and I would ‘hang out’ the bedroom window to watch the people. On one occasion a man got on another’s shoulders and passed up some bridge rolls and crisps. Mum always came up to kiss and tuck us in. Have to admit that she came up those stairs many times to catch us out of bed.
Holidays and weekends we also amused ourselves walking across the fields to Nizels, Philpots, Eggpie Lane and further with a soft drink and snack. Sometimes we’d have to hurry across the fields to see the Golden Arrow train just to wave to the driver and passengers. This was a luxury train service that existed from 1929 to 1971 and went from London to Dover. Passengers then caught the ferry that linked up with another train to Paris. Having been told what time to be back we enjoyed this total freedom roaming the countryside. Probably were trespassing in fields we crossed but never gave it a second thought. Once I found a lot of lovely white ‘powder puffs’ by a field gate and admiring my find, rubbed them against my face, oh.. so soft. Once it dawned on me they were the tails of rabbits I threw them straight to the ground in utter horror and disgust. Often we did see a farmer with his shotgun ready and waiting for rabbits to pop out from the hedgerows. Sister Carol and I also took tennis rackets to the top field and hit a ball back and forth before the evening drew in and we'd hear our mother call us to come back in before it got dark.
Many summer holidays we also stayed for a couple of weeks at relatives in Westfield, near Hastings, who owned a Market Garden business supplying local areas. We used to hop on the tractor with our uncle, help seek out the potatoes to put in the sacks, collect eggs and feed the huge sow pig Sally. Our cousin apparently was unable to eat the plump sausages on his plate one time. Understandable when it was the sow we use to love scratching its back and feeding! We had the occasional outing by train to the seaside. Like most children we always went blackberry picking and enjoyed climbing our many apple trees and the one pear tree in the garden. Our black wellington boots always seemed to be worn winter and summer. We spent a lot of time making miniature gardens in a shallow box to take to the village fete. Many vegetables were grown as most households did then. We would help my father dig, turning the soil and put in potatoes. We'd help pick the broad beans, runner beans, peas and pull up carrots when ready. Raspberries, gooseberries, apples and the pears always went to make plenty of jams and into pies. The shallot onions grown mum use to pickle, besides making jars of red cabbage and mustard pickle. She used to have a lot of seedlings on the go in trays too. She loved creating the garden borders with colourful flowers. We were also encouraged and shown how to help with re-decorating like painting the room skirtings, the staircases and banisters - we'd watch her hang the wallpaper.
Before I was born my parents had a large pig themselves (maybe it was inherited from the Palmers) and it had a hut at the top of the garden. It escaped one day and somehow ended up at the village police station. My father had to collect it returning with the pig in a taxi. If only photographs were taken of events like this. One can imagine the laughter created when this story was told. A different story though when in February of 1951 a log containing a hidden cannon shell was put on the public bar fire and exploded narrowly missing a customer at the bar. My father stated he was going to burn coal and not logs for a while in a newspaper article that mentioned customers commented on the absence of the roaring log fire in the bar which threw out more heat.
As my father was also manager of the International Stores in Sevenoaks and worked Saturdays, my mother Joyce spent many more hours running the Old Cock Inn. She was a very popular Landlady. Not only could she have a good laugh with customers but she also was a very good listener for them. On occasion, if someone rang to see if their husband was still in the bar drinking, she told me the customer would instruct her to say he'd already left. He'd quickly gulp down the rest of the beer and be out the door. Many a roast dinner spoilt long before getting home. One year mum was handed a pheasant to pluck herself for a Sunday roast. Attempting this, she gave up and then buried it in the garden. Seemingly with endless energy, mum tried having a rest some afternoons. Unsuccessful at times with us running up the stairs,along the hallway or doing loud whispering going past the door. She'd have been totally exhausted many days with tired legs, especially weekends.
Many times we'd walk the one mile to the Primary school from the pub with our packed lunch. Sandwiches of either spam, corned beef, sardines, egg, cheese, plus a fruit, currant bun and small chocolate bar. We also spent pocket money at the Bow Window shop. The lucky dip packet containing pineapple chunks, pear drops, love hearts, sherbet filled spaceships etc. The Rowntree fruit gums, fruit pastilles, the liquorice & sherbet dips, a pyramid shaped orange ice block that lasted forever were popular. All these sweets still going and thankfully no fast food! My very first day of school I was very upset and tearful going across the playground then into the classroom. I was not prepared at all for change and soon wet myself! Sand from the little raised classroom sandpit quickly being thrown on the wet floor patch. (I'm sure I hadn't been told that you must raise your hand up in the air if you needed the toilet). I never really enjoyed the small bottles of milk given out but I do now appreciate the reason why they were provided in schools. Dick and Dora books to help with our reading and endless pages of writing the alphabet in capital or lowercase. We learnt cross-stitch, knitting and made things from plasticine. Playtime was doing handstands or playing ball against the brick wall or hopscotch with others. First thing in the morning Mr Haisell played classical music at assembly. At times it would be 'Trumpet voluntary' or 'Greensleeves' playing then we'd sing hymns, afterwards prayers. In the yearly school reports, Mrs Gwyther thought I was 'a neat worker' and Mr Griffiths states: 'I like Lynne's attitude to work and the way she gets on with the job'. Now that would be because we were all used to having structure at home and helping! Miss Mills said, 'I was a quiet, well behaved girl'. Yes, well all that changed at the next school! A few years later in July 1962 our lessons must have paid off. School Annual Prize Giving was again held in the main hall. I've seen a newspaper article and apparently I received an award for art, handwriting and essay. An award for PE Preliminary & my twin also, Mrs Durrant, Mr Griffiths and Mr Newton were teachers leaving the school to pursue other interests or positions that year.
Before I was born my parents had a large pig themselves (maybe it was inherited from the Palmers) and it had a hut at the top of the garden. It escaped one day and somehow ended up at the village police station. My father had to collect it returning with the pig in a taxi. If only photographs were taken of events like this. One can imagine the laughter created when this story was told. A different story though when in February of 1951 a log containing a hidden cannon shell was put on the public bar fire and exploded narrowly missing a customer at the bar. My father stated he was going to burn coal and not logs for a while in a newspaper article that mentioned customers commented on the absence of the roaring log fire in the bar which threw out more heat.
As my father was also manager of the International Stores in Sevenoaks and worked Saturdays, my mother Joyce spent many more hours running the Old Cock Inn. She was a very popular Landlady. Not only could she have a good laugh with customers but she also was a very good listener for them. On occasion, if someone rang to see if their husband was still in the bar drinking, she told me the customer would instruct her to say he'd already left. He'd quickly gulp down the rest of the beer and be out the door. Many a roast dinner spoilt long before getting home. One year mum was handed a pheasant to pluck herself for a Sunday roast. Attempting this, she gave up and then buried it in the garden. Seemingly with endless energy, mum tried having a rest some afternoons. Unsuccessful at times with us running up the stairs,along the hallway or doing loud whispering going past the door. She'd have been totally exhausted many days with tired legs, especially weekends.
Many times we'd walk the one mile to the Primary school from the pub with our packed lunch. Sandwiches of either spam, corned beef, sardines, egg, cheese, plus a fruit, currant bun and small chocolate bar. We also spent pocket money at the Bow Window shop. The lucky dip packet containing pineapple chunks, pear drops, love hearts, sherbet filled spaceships etc. The Rowntree fruit gums, fruit pastilles, the liquorice & sherbet dips, a pyramid shaped orange ice block that lasted forever were popular. All these sweets still going and thankfully no fast food! My very first day of school I was very upset and tearful going across the playground then into the classroom. I was not prepared at all for change and soon wet myself! Sand from the little raised classroom sandpit quickly being thrown on the wet floor patch. (I'm sure I hadn't been told that you must raise your hand up in the air if you needed the toilet). I never really enjoyed the small bottles of milk given out but I do now appreciate the reason why they were provided in schools. Dick and Dora books to help with our reading and endless pages of writing the alphabet in capital or lowercase. We learnt cross-stitch, knitting and made things from plasticine. Playtime was doing handstands or playing ball against the brick wall or hopscotch with others. First thing in the morning Mr Haisell played classical music at assembly. At times it would be 'Trumpet voluntary' or 'Greensleeves' playing then we'd sing hymns, afterwards prayers. In the yearly school reports, Mrs Gwyther thought I was 'a neat worker' and Mr Griffiths states: 'I like Lynne's attitude to work and the way she gets on with the job'. Now that would be because we were all used to having structure at home and helping! Miss Mills said, 'I was a quiet, well behaved girl'. Yes, well all that changed at the next school! A few years later in July 1962 our lessons must have paid off. School Annual Prize Giving was again held in the main hall. I've seen a newspaper article and apparently I received an award for art, handwriting and essay. An award for PE Preliminary & my twin also, Mrs Durrant, Mr Griffiths and Mr Newton were teachers leaving the school to pursue other interests or positions that year.
Sports days I enjoyed and Mr Haisell handed out prizes like a small ball if an event was won. My mother did ‘tick me off’ one year for being so slow to step over the sitting cross-legged children while I was going to collect my prize for the 100-yard race. Another time in the hurdle race I knocked down just about everyone as I really needed the bathroom! I do remember very well the egg & spoon and the sack races that some parents also participated. Mum had been sporty when young and her competitive spirit shone in those. Later in sports competitions house points were awarded with less emphasis on individual prizes. The house teams of Weald, Hilden, Riding. There was also the Inter-house relays, zig-zag relays and throw & sit relay.
Mum and I would go to the Post Office in the village sometimes with the rolled up drawing I'd created and coloured. It was posted to the Blue Peter competition. After watching TV waiting in anticipation to see if mine may appear, it never did. Then I would begin to do another one. Loved playing rounders or stoolball, the lovely smell of freshly cut grass at the recreation ground. After school we may go on the swings, slide or roundabout and then cut through the churchyard to the main road. Sometimes we'd go and explore outside the old windmill at the back of Mill garage while walking back home to the Old Cock Inn. On one of our walks I had my first sighting of a large white owl but it was dead by the hedgerow. Another time I found a little speckled bird's egg and carefully held it for a good half mile. I then managed to crush it when opening the pub door with the hand it was in! When we did leave Hildenborough Primary School for good we collected names and verses in our autograph book. Mr Haisell always entered his personal message with each letter of your name. In mine he wrote: Lively Young Nymph Not Easily - Provoked Racing Away To Tonbridge. Very appropriate indeed.
Autumn with the colour-changing leaves, collecting conkers, and it was the time of year to think about Guy Fawkes day and making him from Dads old trousers, shirt stuffed with leaves, paper and twigs. It stood proudly in the garden. The fireworks were put into a large empty biscuit tin and each one set off carefully away from the bonfire. The sparklers, roman candles and others delighting us. We had our cooking apples on sticks to cook over the bonfire with mum making sure we were not too close.
During Winter I'd usually be the first to get frozen outside in the snow. I would cry to go back in after the snowball throwing. I would then cry in front of the fire from the pain while my circulation got going again.I'd cry to go back outside to join the others! We were allowed an occasional sip of Stone’s ginger wine to get us warm. Winter sweets were always in our pockets to have. They were generally Murray mints, Fox’s glacier mints, humbugs etc. We had knitted mittens on elastic that threaded through the coat sleeves and the padded waistcoat buttoned inside our green raincoats, long socks inside our wellington boots sort of kept us warm. Mum would usually see us across the main road or wait at the bus-stop with us. At school we also had the cooked dinners. One year a blizzard had swept across England with thick snow. We waited and waited for the bus to come. My mother then waved down a car, we hopped in and got to school okay. Not sure if you would do this nowadays but I assume she probably knew the driver.
Mum and I would go to the Post Office in the village sometimes with the rolled up drawing I'd created and coloured. It was posted to the Blue Peter competition. After watching TV waiting in anticipation to see if mine may appear, it never did. Then I would begin to do another one. Loved playing rounders or stoolball, the lovely smell of freshly cut grass at the recreation ground. After school we may go on the swings, slide or roundabout and then cut through the churchyard to the main road. Sometimes we'd go and explore outside the old windmill at the back of Mill garage while walking back home to the Old Cock Inn. On one of our walks I had my first sighting of a large white owl but it was dead by the hedgerow. Another time I found a little speckled bird's egg and carefully held it for a good half mile. I then managed to crush it when opening the pub door with the hand it was in! When we did leave Hildenborough Primary School for good we collected names and verses in our autograph book. Mr Haisell always entered his personal message with each letter of your name. In mine he wrote: Lively Young Nymph Not Easily - Provoked Racing Away To Tonbridge. Very appropriate indeed.
Autumn with the colour-changing leaves, collecting conkers, and it was the time of year to think about Guy Fawkes day and making him from Dads old trousers, shirt stuffed with leaves, paper and twigs. It stood proudly in the garden. The fireworks were put into a large empty biscuit tin and each one set off carefully away from the bonfire. The sparklers, roman candles and others delighting us. We had our cooking apples on sticks to cook over the bonfire with mum making sure we were not too close.
During Winter I'd usually be the first to get frozen outside in the snow. I would cry to go back in after the snowball throwing. I would then cry in front of the fire from the pain while my circulation got going again.I'd cry to go back outside to join the others! We were allowed an occasional sip of Stone’s ginger wine to get us warm. Winter sweets were always in our pockets to have. They were generally Murray mints, Fox’s glacier mints, humbugs etc. We had knitted mittens on elastic that threaded through the coat sleeves and the padded waistcoat buttoned inside our green raincoats, long socks inside our wellington boots sort of kept us warm. Mum would usually see us across the main road or wait at the bus-stop with us. At school we also had the cooked dinners. One year a blizzard had swept across England with thick snow. We waited and waited for the bus to come. My mother then waved down a car, we hopped in and got to school okay. Not sure if you would do this nowadays but I assume she probably knew the driver.
After my father died, we left the pub and moved near The Hilden Manor. My mother Joyce later helped at the New Cock Inn when Alex King was landlord. She later worked at The Flying Dutchman Inn for landlord Nobby Clarke and when he retired to Margate continued there for many years working for landlord Stan Wager. My mother again enjoyed still being very involved amongst patrons and the pub atmosphere. Again, we really did not appreciate she had to work to earn money to pay for our clothing, food and bills until we ourselves went out to work. On reflection, we probably did not give her enough money from our small wages to fully help pay for things.
Conclusion is that my childhood held at the Old Cock Inn holds many special memories. The pub has seen so many other landlords, landladies, travellers, customers besides many car, wagon accidents near or outside the Old Cock Inn from the 16th Century. I cannot quite imagine a penny farthing bicycle attempting to come down Riverhill though! It's very probable that Henry VIII rode past there and popped in and demanded some ale to drink!. Just imagine who has walked or rode the familiar areas we all know so well and just what they wore. Bit different from denim, mini-skirts, nylon tops and crimpolene clothing we wore later.
The future of The Old Cock Inn, this historic building that never was Heritage listed to prevent its unknown outcome? I was very sad when I first heard my beloved childhood home was to be pulled down. Shepherd Neame, the Faversham Brewery, purchased this pub and 25 other pubs from Whitbread/Fremlin in 1972. I'm sure they would have wanted it to remain as their investment if it had been profitable. I always went for a meal there each time I returned to the UK visiting. We must remember that Covid now has played a major part in the survival of any business. People not socialising as much to avoid catching Covid. Globally we still have huge numbers of infected people and deaths. As regards to The Old Cock Inn, one hopes if it cannot be converted, this 500 year old pub will be replaced by a solid standout architects 'masterpiece' and not cheap looking red brick housing that won't stand the test of time. Guess we shall all have to wait and see.......
The pub that was further up the hill, the 19th Century 'New Cock Inn' was demolished after its fate was decided. Just what makes a great successful pub nowadays? Much more competition now with standards patrons prefer and what restaurants can offer. People now enjoying their own home entertainment, other different eating establishments. The internet gives more choices with the 'reviews' that can make or break it. The strict drinking-and-driving laws all contributing factors. It requires the right type of people to get patrons through the door in the first place to make it a success. Knowing what breweries, councils and developers have on their agenda is so important in saving these iconic pub buildings & their history. Good investigative reporting important.
Hildenborough, though not seen initially as a typical 'quaint' village with the London Road going through, it still does have many families who go back many years. Current generations, still very active in maintaining the community spirit to cherish what the village offers. Francis Skeffington who died in 1684 actually was a benefactor to the poor of Tonbridge and Hildenborough and he bequeathed them 200 pounds to be distributed in bread. In the 1700's the term 'bread and butter' meant the earnings of one's basic needs.
Conclusion is that my childhood held at the Old Cock Inn holds many special memories. The pub has seen so many other landlords, landladies, travellers, customers besides many car, wagon accidents near or outside the Old Cock Inn from the 16th Century. I cannot quite imagine a penny farthing bicycle attempting to come down Riverhill though! It's very probable that Henry VIII rode past there and popped in and demanded some ale to drink!. Just imagine who has walked or rode the familiar areas we all know so well and just what they wore. Bit different from denim, mini-skirts, nylon tops and crimpolene clothing we wore later.
The future of The Old Cock Inn, this historic building that never was Heritage listed to prevent its unknown outcome? I was very sad when I first heard my beloved childhood home was to be pulled down. Shepherd Neame, the Faversham Brewery, purchased this pub and 25 other pubs from Whitbread/Fremlin in 1972. I'm sure they would have wanted it to remain as their investment if it had been profitable. I always went for a meal there each time I returned to the UK visiting. We must remember that Covid now has played a major part in the survival of any business. People not socialising as much to avoid catching Covid. Globally we still have huge numbers of infected people and deaths. As regards to The Old Cock Inn, one hopes if it cannot be converted, this 500 year old pub will be replaced by a solid standout architects 'masterpiece' and not cheap looking red brick housing that won't stand the test of time. Guess we shall all have to wait and see.......
The pub that was further up the hill, the 19th Century 'New Cock Inn' was demolished after its fate was decided. Just what makes a great successful pub nowadays? Much more competition now with standards patrons prefer and what restaurants can offer. People now enjoying their own home entertainment, other different eating establishments. The internet gives more choices with the 'reviews' that can make or break it. The strict drinking-and-driving laws all contributing factors. It requires the right type of people to get patrons through the door in the first place to make it a success. Knowing what breweries, councils and developers have on their agenda is so important in saving these iconic pub buildings & their history. Good investigative reporting important.
Hildenborough, though not seen initially as a typical 'quaint' village with the London Road going through, it still does have many families who go back many years. Current generations, still very active in maintaining the community spirit to cherish what the village offers. Francis Skeffington who died in 1684 actually was a benefactor to the poor of Tonbridge and Hildenborough and he bequeathed them 200 pounds to be distributed in bread. In the 1700's the term 'bread and butter' meant the earnings of one's basic needs.
When in England I still go for walks in places like Philpots, Nizels Lane and Knole Park grounds which I so enjoy. I have lived in Australia since 1981 but still love the English countryside, great pubs, castles, pretty villages, historic towns, large estates and their gardens. Wonderful to see family, meet my old school friends. We all hope that the pre-Covid days can return and give us back the total freedom we enjoyed without restrictions or wearing masks. Many people have struggled so much from one household to another and all have a story to tell.
For baby boomers our childhood would have been very different if we'd had a computer with the very informative internet to research our unanswered questions. Does anyone look at an encyclopedia book now? Would we have spent less time outside, more time sitting and less play? Now of course, we understand there is also a downside with the ease of using some new technology. Would this have shaped our personalities differently? So many wonderful nature, travel, history programmes would have made learning surely a lot more exciting. We remember too those red telephone phone boxes we all used and now we all have mobile phones, that's definitely a plus. It is important to have achieved a balance in life and I'm still one lucky person from the baby boomer years...
For baby boomers our childhood would have been very different if we'd had a computer with the very informative internet to research our unanswered questions. Does anyone look at an encyclopedia book now? Would we have spent less time outside, more time sitting and less play? Now of course, we understand there is also a downside with the ease of using some new technology. Would this have shaped our personalities differently? So many wonderful nature, travel, history programmes would have made learning surely a lot more exciting. We remember too those red telephone phone boxes we all used and now we all have mobile phones, that's definitely a plus. It is important to have achieved a balance in life and I'm still one lucky person from the baby boomer years...
Stay safe everyone,
Lynne Page
(nee Delville-Pratt)
Lynne Page
(nee Delville-Pratt)