Thursday, 21 July 2022

The North Downs Way - Borstal to Wouldham...

At this time of year, the North Downs Way overlooking Ringshill Farm offers lovely views across the River Medway towards Cuxton and Halling...

The Medway Bridge...

The Medway Bridge...

Cuxton and the marina...

North Halling and Bores Hole...

Halling and the river...

Panorama across the Medway valley...

Ringshill Farm has been run by the Gore family since 1934, and they have recently been able to buy the land outright. Hopefully, in these challenging times, they will be able to continue managing the land as they have done for the last 90 years.  

Field Poppies, North Downs Way...

Field Poppies, North Downs Way...

Towards Halling...


St. Andrews estate and lake...

Information board, Wouldham Common...

Towards Halling from Wouldham Common... 

Unfortunately this view is in danger of being lost as the trees are growing quite fast and will soon screen off the river from view...

Rosebay Willowherb, Wouldham Common...

Ragwort...

Ragwort is one of those plants whose dangers stemming from its toxicity are grossly exaggerated. This was largely due to the Daily Mail*, which whipped up a load of hysteria about Ragwort, just to fill up a few column inches for its ever-credulous readership back in 2007** (and in subsequent occasional rehashes of the same rubbish). As a result, many of the horsey community now take it as an article of faith that Ragwort is lethal to their pets, even though in practice it seems that a horse (or any other large mammal) would have to be starving to eat Ragwort as it apparently tastes very bitter to them.  

That doesn't stop some people getting very angry about it, however, and such zealots would like to see this rather beautiful wildflower eradicated. Such drastic action would also bring about the eradication of the Cinnabar moth, whose colourful orange and black striped caterpillars feed on Ragweed along with many other insects, but hey, that's a small price to pay to possibly, maybe, keep our horses safe, eh?

A debunk of the myths around ragwort can be found here.


*so often a source of misinformation and "fake news", to the extent that Wikipedia still refuses to use it...

**I would include a link to the aforementioned 2007 article, but unless you are prepared to spend ages blocking consent to all of its "vendors", the MailOnLine will download so many "cookies" onto your computer/phone/iPad that I would not be at all  surprised if it exploded!

Sunday, 17 July 2022

The Bells of St. Michael's...

The sound of church bells on a clear Sunday summer’s morning is a quintessentially English one. The peal of St. Michaels has always been enjoyed by the vast majority of Cuxton's residents, and perhaps some of them might have noticed that the church bells were ringing for rather longer than usual this Sunday morning.

This is because a specialist team of ringers had committed to undertake a “quarter peal” of a bell-ringing method called “Plain Bob Doubles”, which took around 45 minutes (a video clip with sound illustrates about 30 seconds of that, as below...).


It seems that church bells have been rung at Cuxton since at least the fourteenth century. In 1866, when a peal of five new bells was placed in the tower, three older, cracked bells were removed. The treble bore the inscription:

+CRISTUS PERPETUE DET NOBIS GAUDIA VITE+

...which means ‘may Christ give us the blessing of eternal life’. On the crown of the bell, repeated three times, was a shield bearing three heraldic laver-pots (ewers) which dated it as later fourteenth century. The bell was believed to be the work of William Wodeward, a Kentish bell-founder who lived from 1395 to 1420.

The other old bell was apparently cast by Giles Reve, an Elizabethan bell-founder who worked from 1584 to 1592. The Cuxton bell was unusual for having the surname of the bell-founder omitted, the inscription reading:

BY WE GYLLES BELLFOANDER 1589

Giles Reve appears to have been a local man as his work is only found in the northern part of mid-Kent. In the Middle Ages, it was common practice for bell-founders to travel from church to church with their tools and materials, and for them to cast the bells in sand mould made in the churchyard.

The third bell was believed to be of 15th or early 16th century manufacture and bore the Latin inscription: 

+HAEC CAMPANA CANORA MAGDALENAE NOMEN GERIT+
("This tuneful bell bears the name of Magdalen").

These older bells were probably "chimed" when rung, that is, they were just rocked back and forth, which is the way church bells are usually rung throughout the world, with the exception of the UK (and its former colonies). In England in the seventeenth century, the style of "full circle" ringing was developed. The bells were spun until they almost reached their balance point at the top of their cycle, with the mouth of the bell pointing upwards. It was found that this gave much greater control over exactly when the bell sounded, allowing the subsequent development of "change ringing", a practice that produces the ever-changing peals that are so characteristic of well-rung English bell-towers. 

Traditionally, St. Michaels has always had a highly-competent team of ringers. While the ringers at many church bell-towers are content to ring simple rounds or “call changes”, the Cuxton teams have tended to be a bit more ambitious, being proponents of the complex art of “method ringing”

At the turn of the twentieth century, John Cogger was Tower Captain. He served in that role until 1919, when Charles Cogger took over until WW2. Ringing was temporarily stopped by order of parliament as a result of the war, but the bells were kept in good order during that period as they would have used as a means of warning in the event of invasion.

After the war, Jim Cogger took over as Tower Captain in 1945, at the head of a strong team of ringers composed of the old pre-war hands plus some younger enthusiasts.

The Rev. G. Taylor did not care for bells, causing a temporary break during 1951-1955, until a new team was formed after the Rev. Charles Rae’s institution.

Cuxton bell-ringers, 1956: L to R; Lorna Russell, Jim Cogger, Bernice Rogers, Harold Gregory, Peter Bond, Derek Church.

In 1964, local historian, keen bell-ringer and professional architect Derek Church discovered that the church tower was becoming dangerously unstable and needed extensive remedial work. Fundraising commenced and an informative pamphlet was produced, which outlined a brief history of the church and gave details of the tower repair work to be undertaken.

Cover of the 1964 "Tower Appeal" pamphlet...

As part of the repairs, the opportunity was taken to return the existing five bells to their 1866 birthplace, Mears and Stainbank of the famous Whitechapel Bell Foundry, for repair and re-tuning. (Alas, this historic foundry has long since closed…).


Scope of the 1964 church remedial work, as outlined by Derek Church...

At the same time, an additional new treble was cast by the Whitechapel Foundry, and mounted on a new steel frame above what became the No. 2 bell.

The repair work was completed by local building firm F. Hayward and Sons, and ringing recommenced with a complement of six bells rather than five, which allowed more comprehensive methods of change-ringing to be undertaken.

In 1964 after repairs were complete, yet another generation of the Cogger family took on the role of Tower Captain, Colin Cogger. His work eventually took him away from the area and others took up the mantle, but Colin is still very much around and still rings occasionally.

Here are a few facts and figures about the bells of St. Michaels: 

Bell no:

Weight (lb/kg)

Bell diameter (inches)

Note

1 (the “treble”)

400 / 181

23

F♯

2

432 / 196

24.75

E

3

501 / 227

26.63

D

4

591 / 268

30.75

C♯

5

687 / 312

32.88

B

6 (the “tenor”)

833 / 378

35.5

A

Bells 1, 2 and 3 at St. Michaels: No. 1 in the frame over No.2 with No.3 on the right...

Clockwise from left, bells 3, 4, 5 and 6 at St. Michaels...

Change ringing is the art of ringing a set of tuned bells in a tightly-controlled manner to produce precise variations in their successive striking sequences, known as "changes".

Stickmen ringing "rounds": see how the stay and slider mechanism would prevent the bell from turning more than about 350 degrees - not that a competent ringer would "over-pull" to that extent...

Two forms of ringing changes have developed; Call changes and Method ringing. This would be a huge post if I were to go into the details of these: indeed, whole books have been written on the subtle and intricate art of change ringing, but a nice little summary can be found on good old Wikipedia (link here).

Looking at the mechanics of bell-ringing shows how the regular striking of a bell is dictated by the way it swings through almost (but not quite) a full circle. (Again, I don’t plan to go into the mechanics of church bells but if you are interested, it’s all explained very concisely - and with nice animated diagrams - here…).

Bells 4, 5 and 6 at St. Michaels: the wheel of No.3 is on the right

Church bells are very heavy and the time between strikes cannot be changed by much, as no bell-ringer would have the strength to suddenly put the brakes on a bell once it is swinging full circle. This obviously limits the practical change of interval between successive strikes – it’s why you can’t play tunes on church bells!

As I noted above, bell-ringing at St. Michaels has a long history. 

It was gratifying to see how warmly Cuxton’s residents received the resumption of the traditional Wednesday evening bell-ringing practice sessions after the lifting of remaining coronavirus restrictions at the end of February this year.

Practice nights are usually well-attended, but unfortunately it is becoming increasingly difficult to support traditional Sunday service ringing, as many of the ringers have commitments at other towers on a Sunday.

Several of Cuxton’s ringing team have recently had to retire from bell-ringing because of the frailties associated with old age. It is to be hoped that a few more new faces will go along to practice evenings on a Wednesday in an attempt to learn the difficult but rewarding art of church bell-ringing, and to carry on the tradition at Cuxton.

It would be sad if the passage of time finally achieves what world wars, tower repairs, the recent coronavirus lockdowns and even hostile vicars could not – the permanent silencing of the bells of St. Michaels. 

References:

1)            Dove’s Guide for Bell-Ringers, Cuxton entry

2)              Wikipedia: Change Ringing

3)              Cuxton – A Kentish Village, by Derek Church (published by Arthur J. Cassell, 1976, ISBN 0 903253 12 7)

4)              How Bells Work – Ilsingtonparish.co.uk


Friday, 15 July 2022

The Pubs and Clubs of Halling: Now and Then...

Pubs are still firmly embedded in English culture, though sadly this seems to be rapidly changing. In the days before the motor car, when Shanks’s Pony was often the only affordable means of transport available to the working classes, the local pubs were an important part of the social side of village life.

There was no television, Internet, or streamed entertainment beamed straight to your home. People had to actually meet face-to-face to communicate with one another, and the local pub was the usual place to do that.


Despite self-serving vinicultural industry attempts to rewrite English history, locally-made wine was never the preferred tipple of the English working classes, partly because it was expensive and of rather poor quality (the good stuff went to the local lord's table) but also because the UK climate was, by and large, unfavourable for grape cultivation (although some Kentish vineyards did thrive for a while in the late Middle Ages).

Beer was the most common drink during the Middle Ages, mostly because it was much safer to consume than the well-water that was available back then. It was brewed very locally and consumed daily by all social classes in England where the per capita consumption was thought to be around 60 gallons a year in the fourteenth century, with beer being drunk with every meal. Children drank “small beer” (probably equivalent in strength to today’s “session beers”) while adults drank stronger stuff.

“Halling” as a village is a rather scattered affair. “North Halling” was once just a few isolated cottages on Pilgrims Road and the Rochester Road, near Whornes Place on the parish border with Cuxton.  “Upper Halling” further down Pilgrims Road is also remote from the main part of Halling (Lower Halling), and indeed, the two were only connected in 1937 when Vicarage Road became a main road rather than a farm track. Upper Halling, though quite small, once had two pubs.

Halling Village, as it was in 1930. Pubs and clubs are numbered to fit in with the narrative below. Right-click on the map to zoom in and select "open in new tab" if you are on a PC)

The presence of five ale houses in Lower Halling could be partly attributed to the main road that has passed through it since medieval times, where horses and horse-drawn vehicles and their passengers on journeys between the City of Rochester and the towns of Tunbridge and Sevenoaks could have their needs met by the many wayside inns. Later on in Lower Halling, several big cement factories sprang up along the banks of the River Medway in the mid-nineteenth century, factories which employed many local people and attracted many more to the area to live and work. The pubs would also meet their needs for refreshment and socialising. 

The two pubs in Upper Halling probably served the local agricultural community, possibly having their origins in meeting the needs of pilgrims making their way to Canterbury along the nearby Pilgrims Way.

At one time, Halling was served by six pubs, an off-licence and two Working Men’s clubs. This seems a lot by modern standards, but was not uncommon: over the river, nearby Wouldham had five or six pubs and a Working Men’s club, Snodland had at least a dozen (plus a Working Men’s club) and little Burham had five and its own Working Men’s Club.

For the purposes of this narrative, I want you to imagine that we are out on a pub crawl around Halling’s bars on a balmy summer’s evening in 1930. It’s your shout, by the way. We’re drinking in the public bars (not the saloon bars, which were a bit more posh and a bit more expensive) at a time when beer costs around 9d (4p) a pint…

The first pub on our “virtual” pub crawl is the Robin Hood in Upper Halling (1), located on the corner of Pilgrims Road and Vicarage Lane.

c.1910...

As a pub, records of it can be found dating back to 1840 and it may be much older than that. For many years, the pub was apparently called “The Shant”, gypsy slang meaning “to drink”. Behind the Robin Hood used to be hop gardens, which the travelling folk worked and afterwards obviously quenched their thirst in the pub. 

The Robin Hood, c.1960...

The Robin Hood PH, 1972...

The pub changed its name to the “Pilgrims Rest” sometime in the late 1980’s, finally closing for good in 2000. It is now a private house, pretty much unchanged. It is still remembered as the Robin Hood, as the “new” name never caught on.

Robin Hood with Leney's cottage on the right, July 2022...

Carrying on up the hill brings us to the Black Boy (2), also a nineteenth century pub, with a small extension on the left of eighteenth century vintage. Records from the mid-nineteenth century tell us that a Mr. Robert Hearnden was the licensee in 1858. 

At that time, Mr. Hearnden ran the pub, but it had also been a working farm which occupied quite a bit of the surrounding land. The title deeds of 1840 show that along with the Black Boy, there was land known as "The Commons, Stackfield, Haggles, Brickmans Field, Crouch Corner and Meadows". 

Clients of the Black Boy PH, c. 1905...

Alterations to the building in the 1960s uncovered a timber-frame wall, suggesting that the building is actually several hundred years older than its external appearance suggests.

Black Boy PH, 1972...

In the 1920’s, the pub was also known for its ice cream. This was made at the pub by Jesse Crowhurst and Ernie Pankhurst, then loaded on to a hand-cart and taken around the village for sale. Five or six gallons could be sold over a summer weekend.

Jesse Crowhurst at the Black Boy PH, c.1930...

This pub also closed around 2000, leaving Upper Halling bereft of drinking places. The Black Boy is now a private house, although the pub sign still remains.

The Black Boy PH, now a private house, July 2022...

As a name for a pub, the “Black Boy” is considered objectionable by some, given its slavery connotations and the evils therein. Nevertheless, it is quite a common pub name across the UK, but in many cases it is a celebration of King Charles II, whose nickname was “the black boy”.  Whilst that may have been the original case for our Black Boy, an old photo of the early Halling pub sign in 1972 depicts a young man of Black African extraction. The King Charles II version appears on the pub sign of 1982 however, a design which can still just be made out today.

Halling Black Boy pub signs, 1972, 1982 and today...

The past is indeed another country and certainly a much more innocent one in many respects.

From the Black Boy, turning left leads you past what today is Meadow Crescent (built in 1945) and thence down the hill along a narrow track called “the Plough Path”. This leads down into Lower Halling, across the Halling by-pass A228 (which you take your life in your hands crossing) and the railway, bringing you out (as the names suggests) by the Plough (3).

Site of the former Plough PH, July 2022...

Or at least, it would do, if the Plough hadn’t closed in 1997, to be demolished and replaced by houses. The pub dated back to at least 1858, when a Mr. Edward Norman was listed as its licensee, although the building was probably much older. In 1874, his son Allan took over the licence until 1913.

Recent recollections of the Plough was that it was a very popular, friendly pub, with an equally friendly goat called Jasper who lived in the pub garden, and who would try and nick your crisps and drink your beer if you weren’t careful!  Local gossip suggests that the pub closed because the pub chain that owned it simply could not resist the lure of the developer’s money, but how true that is I do not know.

The Plough PH, c.1974...

What is true is that around that time, big employers in the area (e.g. the cement and paper mills) were shutting up shop and lots of people in the area would have seen their disposable income take a heavy hit as a result. That must have affected all of the local pubs and clubs, some of which took that hit harder than others.

Five Bells PH, July 2022...

The next pub on our virtual 1930 pub crawl is the Five Bells (4), opposite Halling church. The present building was built in 1935 behind the earlier eighteenth century pub, which remained open while the new pub was being built. It was called the “New Bell” for quite a while, but has since reverted back to its old name.

The church has six bells, which still causes some local puzzlement regarding the pub name. However, the sixth bell is a relatively recent addition in the church tower compared to the age of the pub. The original five church bells date from 1695 but in 1919, the five were recast and a sixth (the treble) was added. Needless to say, the pub felt no need to rename itself as a result of such modern events!

The Five Bells, c.1900...

There has been a pub on the site of the Five Bells for hundreds of years, and it was probably the first one in the village. It is believed to be the “alehouse” mentioned in records dating back to events in 1586, when a Mr. William Cokar of Halling was sent to gaol for “keeping an ale house and allowing gambling”.

The Five Bells was linked to smuggling activities in the late 19th century. Local historian, the late Ted Gowers, tells us (in his book, Across The Low Meadow) how his mother and father were exploring its extensive cellars when they came across a partly bricked-up section. Inside a small recess, under some old sacking, they found a large number of bottles. His grandfather, Frederick, was told about the discovery, sampled the liquid within and found that it was claret of an excellent quality! Although he had been the landlord of the pub for around 15 years at the time, Fred Gowers had no idea how the bottles came to be there.

The Five Bells and Halling High Street, c.1920...

During Mr. Gowers’ tenure, the Five Bells became the first pub in the village to acquire a dartboard. Music was also supplied by a large music box, one that played 30 different tunes.

In 1940, the Five Bells was the unofficial headquarters of the local Home Guard. Local villagers used to joke that “if the Jerries landed, the Five Bells would be defended until the last pint!”

Halling High Street c.1910, with the Five Bells centre distance...

The Five Bells is one of the two pubs in Halling still going today (web site here).  Until recently it used to co-exist with an Indian restaurant (much the same as the Medway Inn in Wouldham does today) but these days it runs its own restaurant, offering a good menu of excellent “pub grub”.

A short distance down the road, next to the post office on the other side, lies (or was) the Halling Institute (5). The Institute closed in 1978 and was eventually demolished, with the Halling Community Centre being built on the site, opening in 1991. 

The Halling Institute, c.1978... (image credit - Frank Smith, Facebook)

Dating back to 1885, provision of the facility was funded by the nearby local Hilton and Anderson cement company, who operated the Halling Manor cement works that used to be by the river to the north of Ferry Road. The working conditions in the factory were pretty grim by today’s standards, with severe or even fatal accidents not uncommon. Mr. Anderson otherwise took the welfare of his workers very seriously.

c.1930...

H & A were great benefactors of Halling and many of the houses in Halling today were built by H & A, providing the workers with what was then good quality accommodation. Workers injured in the factory were generally well-looked after, as with the Stevens family, who were endowed with the ferry after one such accident. 

The Institute provided a wide range of sporting facilities for local working men, both indoor and outdoor. The 1909-1930 above map shows the extent of the grounds, occupied by what is now the Low Meadow housing estate, which was built in the late 1980s.

The Institute even had an outdoor swimming pool, which opened in 1893 and was formerly a converted water tank belonging to the H &A cement works.

Halling Institute (left), 1972, next to the Post Office (centre)...

Right up until the seventies, the Halling Institute seemed to be the hub of Halling village life. It was the main village social, sporting and entertainment venue, holding parties and wedding receptions, and with many local ladies meeting their future husbands there (and vice versa). I don't have any pictures of the interior, but tales abound of the large open staircase between the two floors, with a long polished banister that the children of the club punters used to enjoy sliding down!

No-one quite seems to know why the Institute closed, but it clearly fell into a state of disrepair. I can only surmise that the owners were unwilling to subsidise the extensive remediation works needed to bring it up to modern standards (a common theme throughout Cuxton and Halling). 

Demolition of the Halling Institute, c.1987... (image credit - Frank Smith, Facebook)

Instead, it and its land were sold off for the inevitable (and doubtless highly profitable) housing, with the provision of a new community centre and doctor’s surgery being part of the deal. Both facilities were, of course, very welcome, but some people felt that the loss of the Institute pretty much ripped the heart out of the village.

Halling Community Centre, July 2022, built on the site of the old Institute...

Staggering out of the Institute, we now continue our 1930 pub crawl by crossing the High Street again and going into the Rose and Crown (6). 

The Rose and Crown PH, 1974...

The pub sits on the corner of the “Cam Path” that leads up to the cemetery (the land for which was another Hilton and Anderson endowment) and at one time had a balustraded frontage somewhat similar to that of the Black Boy.

Records show that a Mr. George Cock was the licensee in 1881. In 1876, the pub was sold for the princely sum of £200.

The reason Halling Village was so well-endowed with pubs may be deduced from the activities of a Mr. Jack Gooding, landlord of the Rose and Crown prior to WW1. He had a cart built to carry barrels and bottles, which he used to push round to the local factories each day, with workers paying their accounts on a weekly basis.

The Rose and Crown in Halling High Street, c.1920...

It seems considerable amounts of beer were drunk at the local factories and cement works at the time (possibly contributing to the accident rate?). This may seem surprising by today’s puritanical views of workplace culture but back then, beer was still the staple beverage for many.

The Rose and Crown closed in the late 1990s, around the same time as the Plough, and has now been sub-divided into private flats. Fortunately, the exterior remains largely unchanged.

Rose and Crown PH, now private flats, July 2022

There is a sign that refers to the building as “Bellringers Place”, one which reflects the former pub’s support for the practice of ringing hand bells, rather than church bells. (Ironically, it seems that the church bell-ringing team preferred to frequent the Plough rather than the Five Bells).

Hand-bell ringing at the Rose and Crown, c.1905...

A short walk northwards along the High Street brings us to the final pub on our 1930 pub crawl: The Homeward Bound (7). This is the other pub in Halling (along with the Five Bells) that is still open (link to its web site here). 

Very little historical information about the pub is readily available: Walter Mills was the licensee in 1881, and in 1993 the pub was awarded the Halling community award.

The Homeward Bound, July 2022...

In some ways The Homeward Bound rather reminds me of the Cock Inn at Luddesdown: it doesn’t open until 4 p.m. during the week, and (thanks to Covid) it doesn’t do food any more, but the beer is always very good (if you like Shepherd Neame beer - which I do!). It is a small, friendly pub with a loyal local clientele, which has managed to survive the Covid lockdowns and has gone back to doing what it has quietly done for the past 150-odd years; pulling pints for thirsty patrons, without fuss or bother.

We now walk out of Halling High Street, cross over the railway bridge and walk up the hill. Our final venue on this long evening is the Newtown Social Club on Kent Road, still known by some locally as “The Bolshie” (8). The club is still with us today, albeit in a slightly different place, and has a long and interesting history.

"The Bolshie", 1984, just before demolition... (image credit - Frank Smith, Facebook)

The Halling Institute was the first working men’s club in Halling, opening in 1885. However, it seems that men returning from the 1914-18 war found it difficult to get membership. As these brave men returned to working civilian life, many also apparently began to object to the rigid Edwardian-style rules and regulations of the Institute – and as a result became branded as “bolshie” (a shortened form of the term “Bolshevik”, after the instigators of the Russian Revolution in 1917, meaning rebellious or uncooperative).

In 1927, Thomas Chapman (owner of the butcher’s shop that used to be opposite the access road the Station), took a sympathetic view towards those disaffected workers who just wanted a cheap pint and somewhere to meet. 

Kent Road, looking south, c.1920. The fence on the right is the chapel site where the "Bolshie" was to be built... 

He bought the old chapel and some surrounding land that was on Kent Road, just down the slope from what is now Jade Hill (formerly Wraights Hill), and subsequently rented it out for creation of the Newtown Social Club: thus, the “Bolshie” was born.

The club continued to thrive, with summer outings for its members being particular popular. In the summer, queues of local coaches could be seen waiting along Kent Road to pick up club punters for day trips to the seaside.

New Town Social Club members waiting outside the club for their coach, c.1957 (credit Paul Bullivant, "Old Pictures of Halling" Facebook page)

However, the advent of the Halling by-pass meant that the old club was scheduled for demolition.

Ironically, the club committee was offered the now-closed Halling institute as an alternative venue. Given the ruinous state of the Institute building by then, the committee declined that offer and instead took up the option of building a brand new clubhouse on land further down Kent Road behind Stake Lane. It subsequently opened just after the old one was demolished in 1984 and was sufficiently successful as to warrant building an extension, giving us the club as it is today.

The New Town Social Club, July 2022...

As elsewhere in history, it seems that the Bolsheviks have emerged victorious...

And as we wend our weary way home on this 1930 summer’s evening, we should consider one more beer house in Halling, even if we are no longer capable of walking in a straight line to it: The Walnut Tree (9).  

The Walnut Tree, c.1930.  Cricket stumps drawn on the front wall are evidence of the absence of traffic in those days...

This handsome thatched building was of timber-framed construction, suggesting it was at least 300 years old. In the 1881 census it was listed as “Whitings Walnut Tree Beer House.” William J. Adams was then the licensee. By 1901 it was a Style and Winch off-licence. 

Mr. and Mrs. Gowers (parents of Ted Gowers) in front of the Walnut Tree, c.1920...

It seemed to be primarily an off-licence for most of its days, hence we didn’t pop in. It closed in 1950, and continued as a private house for a few more years. Regrettably, it did not find a Prings Cottage-style benefactor to undertake the necessary restoration work, and it was finally demolished in the mid-1950s.

Some flats, numbered 185-195 High Street, now exist on the plot.

Flats on the site of the former Walnut Tree...

So what future have our pubs?  They have taken a battering as a result of Covid lockdowns, and now face a twin threat in the face of spiralling costs and dwindling clientele, thanks to our collapsing economy. 

The way people socialise is changing as well. Communications and entertainment seem to have gone on-line. Many people, instead of going to a pub with their friends, will often instead invite them round to where they live instead, buy in cheap booze from a supermarket and get in a takeaway. 

Entertainment, c.1890...

Many can’t even afford that luxury these days. Times are harder than they have been for years.

Pubs simply can’t compete with the big supermarkets on price, with some also having to carry the burden of rapacious "PubCo." owners, who price-gouge their struggling tenants on wholesale beer prices and rents, just to pay their wealthy shareholders and executives.

And why would such owners want to subsidise a failing pub, when they can just sell them off to developers for yet more shoebox flats and houses to make a quick and substantial windfall?

So if you are of a sociable inclination and can afford the luxury of a pint or two in a nice, quiet pub with good company, just enjoy it while you can. Cheers... 

References:

Across the Low Meadow, by Edward Gowers and Derek Church, 1979

Kent Pubs listings (dover-kent.com)

Old Pictures Of Halling (Facebook page, group membership required to view)