OXSHOTT MEMORIES
The Entrepreneurs of Oxshott in the 40’s and 50’s (and more).
By Bob Jones with assistance from Ann Collis, Joy and Pete Redding
(entrepreneur, painter, decorator and mine of information gleaned mostly from the top of his ladder.)
Budding Entrepeneur? Spring 1940, the Battle of Britain is about to begin.
The writer in his back garden at No1 Little Heath Farm Cottages, Steels Lane overlooking the haystacks in the Rick Yard of Aylings Farm with the Brickfield chimney just visible in the haze.
Behind the unlocked front door of No 1 Laneside, Steels Lane you would find Lucy Ackerman selling newspapers, sweets and cigarettes from a counter in her hallway, her brother George, apart from sweeping the chimneys in the area also organised Newspaper rounds and sold Newspapers and Magazines from his wooden shack hidden in the trees just over the crossing (now Hazelhurst Little Heath Lane). He had taken over the shack from Ernie Neal the cobbler in about 1950.
In a shed at the bottom of his garden at No 2 Crown Cottages you would find Tommy Wiles also cobbling boots and shoes; unfortunately Tommy spent most of his life in a wheelchair which he propelled around the village pumping the hand levers energetically. Despite his disability he was always particularly cheerful especially when playing the 78rpm records on his wind-up gramophone in the village hall for the Old Time Dance Club on a Monday night. Master of Ceremonies Albert Watling always did a cartwheel to kick off the evening!
For a fine selection of groceries etc. it was Brown’s on Brown’s Corner of course. Jack, Nora, Maud, Mabel and Vi ran the shop which was attached to the left of the house still standing, you could stock up with all the essentials (except alcohol) provided you had enough coupons in your Ration Book. Plenty of parking space for your pram or bicycle.
Behind the small door in the same house (still there) around the corner next to the post box you would find, usually Vi or Mabel, behind the counter with cigarettes, tobacco, a glittering array of sweets in large jars full of liquorice allsorts, liquorice sticks, barley sugar, black jacks, toffees, humbugs, sherbet lollipops etc . also Walls Ice Cream, Lemonade, Tizer, Cream Soda, Ginger Beer and goodies of many varieties. If you collected the discarded bottles on the common Vi would give you tuppence (1/2p) on each bottle which would soon add up to enough for 5 Woodbines!
Across the road in No 8 Little Heath Lane you would find Mr Patrick selling vegetables, fruits of the season, flowers, eggs and honey all from his back garden.
Arty Simmons in his yard at the bottom of Donkey Lane (now Beechwood, Knipp Hill) would supply you with logs and gardening services along with his Polish ‘Muscle Man’. George the Pole who could often be seen riding his racing bike around the village, he would only need one turn of the pedals to propel himself down the entire length of Little Heath Lane!
Opposite Arty’s yard was Scrivens abandoned brick yard (now Pony Chase), home to old Ben living rough in his brick built shack with his Gladstone Doctors Bag filled with his treasured possessions. He and his bag were a familiar site up and down Little Heath Lane but beware of his walking stick!
At the top of Knipp Hill you would find The Griffin Pub which unfortunately was closed around 1939. Just for the record the current owners of the building have uncovered the old sign and are restoring it to its former glory – but not the pub!
The Oxshott Brick Company (The Brickyard) next to the crossing, probably the largest employer, started by local land owner and philanthropist John Early Cook in 1866 where you could buy bricks at 1000 for a farthing (spotted in an old ledger) although at this price it was probably way before 1940. If you worked for Mr Cook you would enjoy free medical care and at Christmas you would receive a goose, a ton of coal and a bottle of brandy. Unlike his rival William Scrivens who wasn’t so generous.
Image of Cooke's Crossing c1910 temporarily removed.
Might be copyright!
Orlando Hussey (or Banjo) at his Gaydon Motor Works (now Hazel Cottage on Steels Lane) would take his time delving into his pile of carefully! stored junk and come up with batteries, bulbs, brake blocks and a myriad of bits for your bicycle, car or motor bike. Banjo’s front room furniture included salvaged car seats from various vehicles that had come his way. His yard looked like a bomb had hit it – well in April 1944 a bomb did hit next door! (see The Lucky Jones’ Fedora Mag Spring 2014 also Alan Simmons account of WW2 memories on the Fedora website). Banjo’s trusty two shafted ‘truck’ fitted with what looked like spoked 1920 Bentley wheels was always in demand carting furniture and other household effects up and down the lanes.
If you needed a taxi Mr Todd (Sweeny) would oblige with his highly polished Daimler operated from his cottage in the wood (now disappeared) on the left just before the railway bridge down Blundel Lane.
In a thick hedge row behind the wood at the back of Todd’s Taxi’s you would find Bill Stacy with his two dogs, another village character living rough but cosy, amongst his pots and pans hanging from the branches. He made frequent trips to the butchers to collect a sack of bones for the dogs although I am guessing that the dogs didn’t get all of them.
For a sack of coal you had the choice of Jack Rodda or Mr Taylor at the Station Coal Yard.
Instead of Lavender Gate on Steels Lane you would find H G and A Osman’s builder’s yard who would supply you with all manner of building services. Geoff Osman, together with Percy Chew and Wally Letts, would provide you with electrical services from his shop in the village (now Trenchard and Arlidge) including charging your acid filled accumulator battery for your 12 volt radio if you didn’t have electricity.
The Oxshott Mens Club on Oakshade Road would supply you with a misspent youth around the snooker table (if you weren’t careful) including occasional charabanc trips to the seaside, now called The Oxshott Club. If you needed a haircut Johnny Pike would oblige in the Club or, if you weren’t a member Mr Price a visiting hair dresser would oblige having travelled all the way from Claygate (Mr Price’s jokes were better than Johnny’s.)
The Oxshott Mens Club charabanc outing c. 1956.
Jim Sawyer, Tom Brown, Joe Johnston, Harry Gray, Ernie Woolton, Bill Gray, Knobby Farrow, Chum Neil, Norman Viney, Johnny Pike, Jim Barton, Percy Chew. Squatting - Bob Jones (no relation), Abe Skelton, Jim Griffin, Todd Gray.
And the children of the members of O.M.C. Amongst them are Caroline and Gordon Jones, Michael Woolton, Peter Gray, Tim and Heather Chew and Brian Johnston (with the cap).
A bit further up Oakshade Road Denise and Rosemary (Jenny) Wren at Potters Croft (opposite the new Royal Kent School) could supply you with a range of decorative pots and plates. They moved to Devon in 1978.
Aylings Farm House, fresh milk at the back door, bring your own can.
(if Prewetts Dairies had failed to deliver),
(Now roughly on the site of White Gables, Blundel Lane.)
The room behind the Village Church Hall (now the car park on the corner of Oakshade Road) could be hired for a variety of occasions it was also the Library, the Mothers Union meeting place and the venue for Whist Drive evenings. Harold Harkett’s wedding party in the room behind The Village Hall in the Spring of 1957.
The sports ground, apart from cricket, hockey, tennis, bowls and archery was the venue for the highlight of the year – The Oxshott Fete – held usually the first weekend in September. The Fete drew crowds from all around and was mesmerising. The fruit, vegetable and flower marquee was always spectacular as were The Dagenham Girl Pipers who strutted their stuff regularly in their mini-kilts! The loud fairground music blasting from the Carousel card fed organ along with the prancing horses mounted on twisted golden poles were often the spark for many a relationship.
For petrol at 4 gallons (18 litres) for a £1 (in 1958) it was the Garage in the High Street run by Arthur Aslett and Ron Holst. Up the alleyway next to the garage you would be drawn by the smell of freshly baked bread from Charlie Newman’s bakery which was delivered around the village by Ginger the horse hauling the bread wagon ably assisted by Bert (Spooner) and Pete (Redding), Ginger knew the route backwards which is just as well as Bert and Pete sometimes got distracted.
Next door to the alley was Mansers the grocers later to become Cullens (now The Oxshott Village Stores). Then Mays Estate Agents later to become Barclays Bank (now Merci Marcie), then Jack Williams the Chemist (now Centre for Sight), then Hastings the Butchers later to become Grimditch and Webb (now Surrey Hills Butchers). For a Black and Tan or a Brown and Mild at 1/10 a pint (one shilling and tenpence or 9p) in 1958 it was The Victoria. Landlord Charlie Stear behind the bar with Cyril Ransom following (c. 1955), you had the choice of the noisy Public Bar, the Bottle and Jug or the Saloon Bar for quiet contemplation.
Over the hill the Bear beckoned with landlord Bob Steer later run by his son John, keenly fought Crib games on a Sunday night were the highlight for the evening.
Opposite the Vic’ in the High Street you would find a Haberdashers run by Nora Strudwick (now Babayan Pearce) then Johnson’s Stores (now Charnay) with newspapers, sweets and cigarettes and then the Post Office (now Boyce Thornton).
The other side of Oakshade Road was The Teashop (now The Raja Restaurant), Helene’s Hair Salon (now Trenchard Arlidge), Capels the Greengrocers and Browns Fishmongers arriving in the late fifties (now Swan Dry Cleaners and West One Bathrooms).
For Spiritual guidance you had the choice of the Reverend Gerald Ford followed by Herbert Evans at St Andrews Church. The small Catholic Church and Hall on Steels Lane (now Canterbury Mews), which also put on monthly dances of the modern ballroom variety complete with live bands on a Saturday night. Also the Baptist Chapel on Sheath Lane where tea and sandwiches were available to all on occasions.
Any spare sandwiches which were not hoovered up by the pigs in the farm opposite the Baptist Chapel would be swept up by Pat Wyatt with his barrow and broom always on duty from his home on Crown Cottages; Pat unfortunately had a wooden leg which permanently cried out for a spot of lubrication.
Sandwiches were also available at the Tea Rooms outside the station on Oxshott Heath which were popular with cyclists and walkers enjoying the 'quirky and welcoming atmosphere', the combustible mix of creaky floorboards, timber construction, log fires and cooking facilities sadly resulted in a devastating fire in the 80's.
If you could find your way through the pea soup smogs on a Friday night to No 9 Blundel Lane you might see parked opposite in the gloom the Fish and Chip van with its smoke stack advertising its presence (very useful in 18 inches visibility). How it got there in the fog is a mystery.
If you needed medical help Doctor ‘Ginger’ Berridge on Birds Hill Drive would be on call or later it was Dr Lytle from his house and surgery on Holt Wood Road (opposite The Oxshott Centre) or Dr Glover on Charlwood Avenue. Nurse Davis with her bicycle was also on call as the District Nurse or Midwife.
For the dreamers you had the Boeing Stratocruisers, Lockheed Constellations, Convairs and Viscounts from BEA, BOAC, Pan Am, TWA and others clawing the air overhead heading out of Heathrow destined for faraway places.
For adventure it was ‘The Woods’, Poly Apes or abandoned Bomb Shelters. For a swim it was a bike ride through the woods, across Sandy Lane, negotiate a safe passage with a snarling Alsatian loose on the common, across Esher Common (no A3) to Black Pond where you would find the luxury of male and female changing facilities, a diving board and mud oozing between your toes. Unfortunately the changing facilities developed ‘see-through’ walls in late summer due to the leaves falling from the brushwood construction!
Police Constable’s, Arthur Mays and later Bob Jenner operating with his dog from ‘The Police House’ (now 'Hill View') on Blundel Lane certainly had their work cut out.
Copyright © 2016 Robert C Jones
Oxshott’s Past – Ayling’s Corner. Now Oxdowne Close.
For many years this oil painting has been just 'hanging around' largely un-noticed. It was painted by my father Reg Jones, an amateur artist who used to live and work at Ayling's Farm and occasionally liked to get his brushes out.
It is only now that, despite its skewed perspective, I am beginning to see a simple charm about the scene. It doesn't seem that long ago when the junction of Oxdowne Close, Blundel Lane and Littleheath Lane was known as Ayling's Corner.
The Ayling's were the family farming at Little Heath Farm, certainly to my knowledge in the 30's, 40's and 50's. They lived in the farm house which is the building on the right. The buildings to the left are the cow sheds. Twice a day the gates to the yard opened and disgorged the herd of lumbering dairy cows. They were driven down Blundel Lane and out into the fields by Ted Jones (no relation) the cowman for many years. Ted also handled the heavy horses which also were a familiar sight pulling carts and ploughs etc up and down the lanes.
Beyond the cowsheds you can see the barn and the rick yard echoing the sound of the single cylinder engine (which had dodgy bearings and missed every fifth stroke) driving the 'elevator', a lethal piece of kit which elevated the hay and straw bales on spikes up and over and onto the hay rick, the bales having been 'pitch forked' onto the elevator from the hay cart.
At harvest time 'the thresher' appeared in the rick yard hauled by a steam traction engine which doubled up as a power unit to drive the beast with a flailing leather belt. Beyond the rick yard is a pair of cottages called surprisingly 'Little Heath Farm Cottages' where I was born and bombed (see HERE). Beyond the cottages is Banjo Hussey's yard.
This particular view is looking into what is now Oxdowne Close from the corner, the gas lamp illuminating the scene. As far as I remember those trees were Elm trees, sadly now no longer. Behind you is where Jack Brown lived who, along with his family, ran Brown's Shop on Brown's Corner providing the neighbourhood with everything from Woodbines and Weights to ham, eggs and honey, not forgetting R White's Lemonade and Walls Ice Cream 'in a block' about 6 inches x 4 inches x 2 inches.
As far as I recall this scene was painted from memory in the late 60’s probably reflecting the darkness of the war years and also a more hopeful vision indicated by the blanket of snow illuminated in the gas light. If you turn your head to the left you will see, and hear, the level crossing gates clanking open. The level crossing was known as Cooks Crossing after the founder of the brick yard or O.B.C. (Oxshott Brick Company). The crossing gates are being operated by hand by the signal man winding furiously in his signal box opening and closing the gates.
In those days there was a third railway track from the station into the brick yard to allow the coal trucks in and take the finished bricks out. The chimney, dominating the scene, was built right in the middle of what is now Somerville Road. You will also see the electric trains (with the 'slam doors', leather window pulls and ladies compartments) charging back and forth carrying us school kids and commuters up to Waterloo in thirty minutes flat!
Just over the crossing past the brick yard entrance, past Charlie Redding leaning on his gate you will see tucked under the trees George Ackerman in his dingy wooden shack feverishly marking up newspapers and comics ready to be delivered around Oxshott by yours truly, and others, all for two bob a week or half a crown if you delivered on Sundays. On the morning of Friday April 14th 1950 the revolutionary EAGLE comic appeared for the first time in my paper bag destined for the fortunate few but George didn’t allow us to read somebody else’s EAGLE under the gas lamp at Ayling’s Corner!
A WALK AROUND OXSHOTT ON JANUARY 7th 2021
I've always wondered what it would feel like to be 82 years old - today I've stopped wondering - I know how it feels.
To celebrate I took a walk down Memory Lane, Oxshott. I started at No 36 Little Heath Lane, it used to be called The Brambles, where my great grandparents and grandparents lived. I tried to imagine what it was like for my great grandfather John and my grandfather Jack who both made bricks in The Brickfield from about 1880. Despite working all hours, they both managed to produce enough fruit, veg and chickens to keep their families going for the whole year.
I then strolled up Little Heath Lane past No 30 where Mr Horitz used to live, past Links Green Way which used to be a cart track into the field. The Barn in the corner of the field had a hayloft which was really out of bounds but Joy, Leila and Flicky didn't seem to care.
Also, out of bounds was the pear trees in the orchard a bit further up but a shirt full of juicy pears was too much to resist, except when a swarm of angry wasps found their way down your trousers!
On up past all the cottages built by John Early Cook for his 'brickies' up to Brown's Corner. Brown's Shop was a hive of activity. Jack was busily slicing bacon while Maud sliced chunks of cheese with her wire cheese cutter and served customers with everything they needed - if they had enough coupons in their Ration Books that is. There were three prams parked outside his grocery shop. Meanwhile Vi in the sweet shop round the corner would be serving Liquorice Allsorts, R White's Lemonade, blocks of Walls Ice Cream and 5 Woodbines if you told her they were for your Dad!
On past a wooden shack under a tree where I used to collect newspapers and deliver them around the village for George Ackerman on cold and frosty mornings before I went to school. The shack used to belong to Ernie Neal the Cobbler.
Next to George's shack were a pair of cottages. Ted, Lester and Freda were just off to school and old Charlie and his wife waved from their front garden. Between the cottages and the level crossing was the entrance to the Brickfield. There was nobody on the gate so I wandered in. The small row of admin offices on the right piled high with dusty ledgers seemed empty. Opposite was the largest of the buildings which was the brick firing kilns with the towering chimney next to it. The coal trucks were being unloaded behind. Then came the conveyor belt to transport the dried bricks into the kiln. They had to be dried for a couple of weeks otherwise they would explode, final drying would take place in the kiln, you could tell when there was no more moisture in the bricks when the chimney stopped 'steaming', the temperature could then be racked up to 1800F (980C). Row upon row of drying bricks were racked alongside the moulding shed. Inside the moulding shed my great grandfather looked at me, handed me a brick mould full of clay and said ‘here you are son take this out to the drying rack and be quick about it’. I did as I was told and ran off past more machinery and cottages down to the clay pit. The lumbering hinged arm continuous bucket scrapers were busy gouging out clay, they had already gone down two levels and were starting on a third when suddenly the whole pit filled with water leaving the diggers submerged transforming itself into a tranquil lake complete with benches and picnic tables..
I emerged back onto the road just in time to see a free wheeling coal truck rolling across the road into the brickfield on the third rail track, the guy hanging on to the back with his other hand on the brake smiled. The large wooden gate across the road pivoted on its hinges which were buried into a concrete post - the post and hinges are still there. I waved at Bill in his signal box furiously winding the crossing gates open, the chunky steel gate stops popping up out of the road just in time.
On to Aylings Corner covered in a liberal coating of cow dung which is now the junction of Blundel Lane and Oxdowne Close. I stopped under the gas lamp, looked in my paper bag and read somebody's Eagle. On along Blundel Lane to No 27 where I lived from 1947 to 1966. The powerful beam from the searchlight a couple of fields away bounced around in the clouds searching for enemy aircraft. I took the dog up to Poly Apes to check if we had a rabbit for lunch, how could I? Back up the new section of Blundel Lane, which I remember used to be a field full of cows, the smell from the smoke stack on the fish and chip van parked opposite No 9 on a Friday night was teasing - if you could find it in the smog. On up to the start of Steels Lane arriving at Little Heath Farm Cottages with an outside toilet where I was born in 1939 - not in the toilet!. I looked into the front garden just as the bomb landed in the deckchair (see below). It was 4am on April 1st 1944, the blast demolished the cottages trapping my mother and I for hours in the rubble, we were probably given up for dead. My father and the family next door amazingly also survived without a scratch. The cottages are now rebuilt and have the same name.
On up past Banjo Hussey's junk yard, next door, where I bought a few bits of bike and put them together to make a whole bike, I called it an ASP (all spare parts), my mates had AJS's, BSA's and BMW's. On past the entrance to The Oxshott Sports Club remembering all the characters in the Cricket, Bowls and Tennis Clubs, not forgetting the yearly mesmerising Oxshott Fete. I popped in to watch Percy with his pipe bowling his ball, Cyril taking out the opposition with his slow left arm round the wicket spin, the girls cracking hockey sticks and the archers on the far side trying to hit the bulls eye.
A glance into The Withies next door where we used to live for a short while in 1945/6. On up to the Village Hall, now disappeared into the church car park, where we used to hold Whist Drives and borrow books from the Library Room round the back. We also danced around the hall to the strains of Tommy's windup gramophone at The Old Tyme Dance Club on a Monday night. On past the Church where I used to be in the choir. A long pause at The Oxshott (Mens) Club opposite the church where I spent many a happy year round the snooker table with the curtains tightly closed on a lovely summer evening.
Carrying on up Oakshade Road past Potters Croft, The Pottery Studio hiding in the orchard run by the Wren family - it was The News Chronicle for them. A glance over to Trenchard and Arlidge at the top of Oakshade Road which morphed into Geoff Osman's electrical shop where I took my grandparents glass lead/acid accumulator to be charged up so they could listen to Tommy Handley on the radio (no electricity in The Brambles). I collected the accumulator, hooked the handle over the handlebars of my ASP and cycled back to The Brambles. On to the High Street, trying to avoid memories of The Vic. Ginger the horse emerged from the bakery dragging his wagon with Bert and Pete aboard delivering bread around the village.
I arrived at The Royal Kent School (now the filling station) where I learnt to read and write despite many visits to the bomb shelter on the green opposite. Also opposite the school was the Air Raid Siren on top of a tall post and next to that was the telephone box, I opened the heavy door, inserted tuppence, dialled Akela and pressed button A to earn my communications badge to sew onto my cubs uniform. On down Steels Lane to the junction of Holtwood Road where there was another bomb shelter.
Today, standing proud opposite where the bomb shelter used to be, is The Oxshott Village Sign.
Thanks for the memories.
