Brewer Street its shops and people

How easy it is to sit back close my eyes and see the old Brewer Street, there were two pubs the "Ancient Druids" and the “The Eagle" at the top. It would be many years before I would be allowed into a pub but I still remember the smell of stale beer as I walked passed.

I wish they would take those eyebrows of the lower windows.

Coming down the street the hairdressers "Young’s" it is still there. This is where I had my first haircut by Bob (a nice man and really good with snivelling kids)

Mr. Mosley the butcher was one of four people in Brewer Street that owned a car; in fact, he had two vehicles, his private car and another his van for delivering meat.

Further down the street was a small and I mean small off-licence, my home and which my parents ran for a second income (not very profitably from my recollections).

Brewer Street No 63

From the front shop we walked into our living room and then on into the taproom. Here there were barrels of beer and customers would bring jugs to replenish their beer supplies.

I remember a lady called Ruby bringing her jug down every other night, a tea towel draped over the top, and after a two hour conversation and her sixth cigarette my mother would fill her jug with mild beer and she would make her way home again. This was a community warts and all.

Interestingly after writing the previous paragraph and speaking to a good friend, it seems that this woman was a relation of his by marriage. What a small world.

I remember that our house continually smelled of beer, that answers a lot.

On the corner of Brewer Street and Camden Street stood an old chapel. Sharps bought the chapel and used it as a factory for making hand crafted flowers for their best quality Easter eggs. They sold to the Stenhouse Organ Company (where I worked for two evenings a week and weekends while still at school).

Eventually Peter Preedy school of Dancing took over, I am sure if you know anything about Maidstone you will remember Peter Preedy. I attended his classes in the former premises in the Market Buildings, but with little success. You had to be quick in those days as the boys practised one end of the hall and the girls the other, he would eventually say take a partner and the rush was on.

Below us, lived several families I would love to hear from, the Snoads the Mepsteads etc.

The Mepsteads were chimney sweeps and they were one of the four who had a vehicle. Most sweeps of the time would be seen carrying their rods on their shoulder while riding to there next job by pushbike.

A Company called Louis G Fords had a shop come showroom just down the road from where I lived; the strange thing was that they were promoting central heating. Well the folks that I knew only had paraffin stoves placed strategically around the house for warmth, and even then, we grew up with ice forming on the inside of the windows in the winter months. Our own heating consisted of a paraffin stove at the top of the stairs and an open fire in the dining room. It is surprising that there were so few house fires although chimney fires were quite normal.

While the sweep was pushing up his brushes he would say, could you go outside and tell me when the brush comes through, on reflection I think it may well have been to keep us out of the way.

There is a path through into Union Street, in fact a grave yard path, but, in those days without the fence (I walked through recently and they have again taken down the fence). In the after-life I feel sure we will be excommunicated for the things we kids got up to in that grave yard.

Mr Auchin the neighbourhood electrician charged batteries for cars and radios. It may seem strange now but people used re-chargeable batteries for radios and they were huge by today’s standards.

Still further down the street was a Driving School called "Regent School of Motoring" run by two brothers the Bodiams. I cannot think how they made a living, as there were so few cars anyway; still I suppose there were even fewer driving schools.

Ken Bodiam was a very fine musician and he became my tutor when I played the accordion.

Opposite "Regent School of Motoring" the "Brewer Street Working men’s Club". It was a real treat when my father took me in on the occasional Saturday morning, probably to stop me getting under my mothers feet, for a glass of vimto and a bag of crisps.

Doctor Gunnery had a surgery still further down almost into Week Street, not where it is today.

The very house

John Roberts

I first started work in Brewer Street when I was fourteen. I was an un-indentured apprentice working for a Brigadier Fletcher who ran a workshop come factory. The workshop consisted of about a dozen lathes, two were self-contained and the rest driven by a single large electric motor connected to the lathes by belts.

We had a foundry there where we cast brass and alloys and aluminium. Three brothers worked here and they were patent makers as well as lathe operators. I remember getting in trouble and being sent to see the Brigadier. Nothing too serious.

Brigadier Fletcher had been the Mayor of Maidstone.

After reading John’s memory of Brewer Street, I recall the workshop mentioned. As I relate elsewhere I went to St. Francis School, which backed onto the workshop. I remember one of the lads looking through the wire mesh and broken window and having a bit of banter with one of the workers, with a great shout I looked over to see that they had puffed soot through the open window straight into the lads face. I wonder if this was John.

Shirley

Maidstone I remember it well: My grandparents, Ethel & Frank Simpson, ran the Working Mens Club until 1953 when they retired. I used to think every gran lived in a cavernous old property with mysterious corners and scary staircases. There was a big concert room where all my aunts had their wedding receptions. The smell of beer/vinegar still takes me back to the cellar, with all the tubes leading to the pumps. We used to spend Christmas there, as we only lived in Perry Street, so it was a short walk. The room where we sat was floored with worn brown lino and all the seats were lumpy, but there was plenty of room to do the Hokey Cokey!! When my gran was dying apparently she kept saying "I've got to get down to the bar".

Titch Price (nee Fletcher)

Maidstone I remember it well: I can vaguely remember the 'foundry'. I was born in Maidstone in 1951 and my family lived in Bearsted. My Grandparents, Stephen & Jesse Fletcher had the foundry and lived in Brewer St. I was amused by John Roberts entry because I never knew my Grandfather was called Brigadier! My Aunt Anne Fletcher had a huge collection of little rabbits that were made in the foundry. We all loved Brewer St and the fun and games we had there! My father, also Steve Fletcher, worked at the foundry until about 1958. We then moved to Cheshire. Great memories. My very best wishes to you John and I know all my sisters & brother will love reading your memories - thanks.

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