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The Duke Of York was situated on High Street and closed after a New Years Day fire, c2001. It was rebuilt and reopened as "Tiffins" wine bar/restaurant for a few years, but has now been converted to a private dwelling.

The Duke of York, often referred to as The Duke or simply Deano's (after its last landlord John Deane), was a unique country town pub. Its landlord was an unassuming, quiet and gentle man who held the respect and affection of his clientele like no other and his clientele represented a largely rebel fraternity of bikers, hippies, rockers, the odd lawyer and doctor, a retired gravedigger and many others besides. It was a pub that my father warned me about due, no doubt, to it appearing in the pages of the Kent Messenger and not always in a good light. Actually, probably NEVER in a good light. It was redolent of the fictional Boar's Head Tavern of Eastcheap immortalised by Shakespeare on Heny IV part one. The pub was regularly raided by the Drug Squad, probably because of the odd dope dealer around, but its regulars were fiercely loyal to Deano and his long suffering wife Carol and it became more popular as its local fame spread - Cranbrook Grammar schoolboys would visit at lunchtimes and Angley School girls would sometimes make evening appearances. It was a non-threatening atmosphere and very welcoming. There was no food on offer apart from cheese toasties and a large jar of pickled eggs on the counter top plus pork scratchings, crisps and what not. The beer was Shepherd Neame, a local brewery, plus the odd lager. A well used jukebox with some great tunes was in one of the corners. Sometimes there was live music. A few members of Gang of Four and the Mekons, bands from the late 70s, mingled with us all from time to time as people not famous musicians. I remember this place as being full of laughter and jocularity. Deano called almost everyone 'babes' which would be added to their name - I became 'Olly babes' for instance. He also had a charming way of asking for change as you searched your pockets for loose coins: 'Humble 10p, babes, humble 10p." Always said twice. Old Sam, the gravedigger sat in the corner nursing a pint of mild and bitter and with such a thick old Kentish burr, it was almost impossible to make out what he was saying. The other characters there included such wonderful names as Quigley, Paraffin Pete, Doc Tope, Donkey Dave, Goldtop, Franko, Bomber, Ricky Raccoon, Crombie, Baby Vear, Trapper, Dypso, Jaws, Mad John and so on. A grounded pirate ship. Its hay day was in the 1970s and where I gravitated after leaving school, not heeding my father's advice, and made some lifelong friends. Sometimes, after closing, Deano, who had been a forester before he took over the lease from his father, would take anyone who wanted up to nearby Angley Woods where he would lead us, umbrella in hand, deep into the wood to Woodpecker Island to carry on drinking and carousing into the night. I moved away in the late 1970s and left the area completely in the 1980s but I remember this place with so much affection. A few months ago in early 2022, one of those names above, Trapper, got in touch to tell me that Deano had died. I had to go the funeral and wake in Hastings and Rye respectively so made the pilgrimage one last time to say 'Thank you, Deano, for the welcome and all the wonderful memories of a different, more alive era when pubs were mainly focused around life and banter and not fancy food and waiting for a table.' Needless to say, some of those characters were there, still alive and kicking, and still unreformed, good-hearted people. Deano's widow, Carol was there too and she was clearly moved by the show of strength that all Deano's former clientele showed by making the journey to honour his memory. Pubs like this just do not exist any longer but if they do, please hold onto them, it is after all a big part of our rich cultural heritage.

Olly Perry (May 2022)

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