PRODUCTS & SERVICES, FIFTIES STYLE, Nick Turner
The year could be 1950. Wartime rationing was still a fact of life, but business in our small village was surprisingly well represented. With the younger male population severely depleted on military service, any of the older generation with a skill they could ‘turn their hand to’ would have used them to serve the village and help their earnings along.
Conventional shops included the bakery of Phillips & Lyle in Lewes Road, which wasn’t to last much longer, and Fellows of Ardingly expanded their delivery facility to cover Horsted. Most will know of the Post Office on the corner of The Green that had a small lending library behind its door. Postmasters Webb and Wallbank came and went before the Misses Boultbee and Buck began a long term occupancy, aided by Cicely Boultbee’s mother. Mail was sorted in the corner office by postmen Fred Sims, Jack Wood and Fred Markwick before heading out on (cycle) deliveries. John Moller from West Hoathly succeeded Markwick when he retired.
Obed Maynard was the village butcher opposite The Crown, with H J Box of Lindfield having some of the delivery business. Mrs Maynard had a small sweet shop in East Grinstead and their operation grew to include a West Hoathly butcher’s shop and Igloo Meats for freezer trade. Adjoining Maynards was grocer Bern Turner whose smaller storage capability was a limiting factor, but the premises have survived by becoming today’s village shop. The small building beyond Turner’s had a shortish spell selling fruit and greengrocery run by ‘Punch’ Langridge, Miss Kieley, and Arthur Hopkins. It subsequently became Magpie Cottage, occupied by a Mr Martin.
Jill Rolfe has adequately told the history of Sayers & Carter’s ‘Ashgrove Stores’  and a 1950 visit could have been a lengthy exercise in practical terms. Some staple products would require much discussion. A simple quarter pound of bacon rashers would begin with the customer selecting a joint from the glass display cabinet that doubled as a counter. This was then transferred on to the bed of the slicing machine behind the counter in the hope that the preferred thickness could be decided en route. The assistants were expert in judging weight as they laid rashers on a sheet of greaseproof paper but, as the quarter pound got nearer completion, it would be moved to the scales where more discussion determined whether the customer would like ‘one over or one under’ the said weight. Loose goods like sugar were kept in large wooden drawers underneath the glass display, each with its own scoop, but merely needed a blue paper bag to be opened and filled with the scoop, juggling scoop and scales until the weight was obtained and the bag could be folded and sealed. With a half hour wait far from unusual, a trip to Carter’s was not for the faint hearted, but one wonders what happened to the carved wooden head of an Indian, advertising Mazawatee Tea, that kept watch over proceedings.
The remaining shop, on the corner beyond Carter’s, was always known as ‘Miss Fry’s’ but, by 1950 would have passed into the hands of Mrs Lucas. Her range was small but she had one claim to fame as she stocked ‘penny hooks’ for fishing, thus drawing many lads through her door. This was where retail orthodoxy ended and an extensive list of others was added to the mix.
For a short while the village boasted a café, opposite the bus shelter, run by Mr and Mrs Sid Carr until they emigrated to Canada, living on the shores of Lake Ontario. The blacksmith in the middle of the village was still shoeing horses via Horace Baker and then Arthur ‘Nobby’ Smith, sometimes ‘helped’ by a boy who’d think it fun to operate the bellows and watch the fire grow.
Drink was available in the same three establishments as today. There were three schools with Miss Ponsford (Station Road) and Mrs Marshall (Parish Room) augmenting St Giles. In the days before Catholicism arrived in Hamsland, there were still three places of worship, with the Congregational Church occupying what is now the Martindale Centre, a Mission Hall on the Green near the Parish Room and, of course St Giles. Clergy of the day were Rev John Eastham at St Giles and Rev Albert Trinder at ‘The Cong’, but no full time minister at the Mission Hall.
For building work the major player would have been A R ‘Bert’ Smith with his yard in Chapel Lane, but Joe Awcock at the bottom of Leighton Road was also quite well occupied. Men’s hairdressing was traditionally done by Billy Holden at his house in Bonfire Lane, but his reputation wasn’t of the best, so anyone whose work took them towards Chelwood Gate might drop in to Bill Marten’s by the bus garage, whilst others would spend the 4d. each way by bus to Ernie Cox in Lindfield. For garage/taxi services there were two options in Frank Lambert at Hillcrest or Frank Beale at the Crown Garage.
Two of the postmen took advantage of their early finishes with secondary businesses. Jack ‘Clocky’ Wood, as his nick name implies, was the ‘go to’ place for watch and clock repairs, but Fred ‘Simbo’ Sims could be found at his ‘shop’ in Chapel Lane, mending shoes, bikes and radios until late at night. Dick Elphick from Chelwood Gate included Horsted in his Prudential insurance round, a familiar sight on his autocycle, but here too Simbo could transact insurance business for Commercial Union. My annual 1959 premium for inclusion on my Dad’s 350cc Royal Enfield policy was 8/9d!
Keeping hens was a throwback to the war years, but the lure of a daily egg far outweighed their meat value and chicken was a luxury preserved for Christmas Day. Their food was found at Friend’s where the sisters would also prepare the annual influx of poultry for cooking. My Dad supplied bean sticks (1/9d a bundle delivered), pea boughs (1/3d) and clothes props. Deliveries were an annual affair using Bill ‘Sleeper’ Turner’s lorry from Chelwood Gate dropping orders round the village, but one-off orders had to use Dad’s motorbike with, all too often, me sitting on the pillion holding a bundle of pea boughs or a prop in each hand.
With PC Harold Franks keeping law and order from his base at 7 Leighton Villas, there wasn’t much we needed to ‘go abroad’ for.

Pedlar outside Horsted Keynes forge

The Crown Inn

Last remaining village shop.

Village smithy, Horace Baker