Part 7. The Invisible Colony

Where was "Empire Terrace?

The reason "Empire Terrace" feels unfamiliar today is that the modern landscape has almost entirely swallowed it up. In the "Colony" days, however, the area around Penhill Road and South Street looked very different.

Before the modern flats and the expanded Gardner & Scardifield hardware store took over, that stretch was the true boundary of the Carriage Works' social influence.

The Lost Landscape of Penhill Road

Historically, the land where the modern flats now stand was part of the original Railway Institute footprint and the terraced housing built for the early workers.

• Empire Terrace: This was a specific row of Victorian/Edwardian terraced houses that stood right in that pocket. They were built for the "pioneers" of the works—the men who moved there when the site first opened in 1912.

• The Demolition: Like much of Lancing’s industrial fringe, these older cottages were eventually cleared. The "modern flats" you see now are likely the result of redevelopment that happened after the Works closed in the mid-60s.

• The Hardware Connection: Gardner & Scardifield's growth is actually a classic story of post-industrial Lancing. As the Works closed, local businesses expanded into the vacated spaces. The hardware store essentially sits on the "bones" of the old railway economy.

Part 7: The "Invisible" Colony

 
Today, visitors to Penhill Road see the modern face of Gardner & Scardifield and contemporary flats, but in the 50s, this was the heart of the Railway Colony. Where the flats now stand was once Empire Terrace—rows of houses filled with the sound of railway families. While the houses are gone and the hardware store has expanded into the old industrial gaps, the Empire Club remains as a stubborn reminder of the days when the railway was the lifeblood of this corner of Lancing."

"If you stand in the car park of the modern flats on Penhill Road today, you might notice an old wall separating the tarmac from the Empire Club. It’s a silent survivor. To the casual observer, it’s just a boundary, but to those who remember the 'Colony,' it marks the spot where Empire Terrace once stood. Houses 1 through 4 were filled with the lives of families like the Hills and the Pesketts—railway folk who lived a stone's throw from the bar of the Empire Club and the gates of the Works."

Address	Occupant (1958)	Notes
1 Empire Terrace	Ernest J. Hill	Right next to the club.
2 Empire Terrace	Mrs L. M. Marshall	Likely a railway widow or long-term resident.
3 Empire Terrace	William G. Peskett	Peskett is a very old Sussex name.
4 Empire Terrace	Arthur H. J. King	End of the terrace.

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Did the "Ashford crowd" bring their own specific traditions or nicknames to the shops?

End of the line for the Carriage Works

The local newspapers from that era—the Worthing Herald and the Worthing Gazette—capture a moment of profound shock for the village. In September 1962, the news finally broke that the British Railways Board intended to close the Lancing Carriage Works.

The Worthing Herald reported that the workforce was “shocked and dumbfounded” by the announcement. At the time, the Works was the lifeblood of the area, employing 1,683 people.

The "Official" Reason: The Beeching Axe

While Dr Richard Beeching’s famous report, The Reshaping of British Railways, was officially published in March 1963, the "modernisation" plans were already in motion a year earlier. The official reasoning for choosing Lancing for closure was:

• Excess Capacity: British Rail argued that they had too many carriage works (Lancing, Eastleigh, and Ashford).

• Centralisation: They decided to concentrate all southern carriage work at Eastleigh, claiming it was more "economically viable" to have one massive site rather than several specialised ones.

The Political "Secret"

However, the newspapers and local union men hinted at a more cynical reason. At the time, Eastleigh was a marginal Parliamentary constituency that the Conservative government was terrified of losing. Lancing, meanwhile, sat in a "safe" Conservative seat. Many workers believed the decision was purely political—sacrificing Lancing to save votes in Hampshire.

The Aftermath on the Ground

The papers describe the following three years (1962–1965) as a period of "slow death" for the Colony:

• Mass Redundancy: Families who had moved from Ashford only a few years prior, like Basil Law, found themselves facing another move or the "dole" queue.

• The Rise of the Industrial Estate: To soften the blow, West Sussex County Council purchased the site in 1964. This was the birth of the Churchill Industrial Estate (now Lancing Business Park).

The Saving Grace: The Herald noted that a furniture firm, Dennis & Robinson (now Manhattan Furniture), moved into the main carriage building in 1965. Part of the deal was that they had to hire the former railway craftsmen. The upholsterers, like Basil, were perfect for making high-end furniture.

While the traverser and the steam locomotives are gone, the wide 'avenues' between the modern units are the same paths where carriages once rolled. The colony isn't gone; it's just hidden in plain sight.
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The closure of the Works in 1965 wasn't the end of the story for the great sheds. Men like John Drewett saw the transformation firsthand. Working in the design department for Typower Ltd, John was part of a new generation of engineers who walked the same floors where the Bofors guns were once mounted. The 'Railway Colony' was becoming an 'Industrial Hub,' proving that while the carriages were gone, the spirit of Lancing’s craftsmanship lived on.

The Workplace Typower Ltd

A Tribute to John's View: > "John Drewett's photos capture the moment the Lancing 'Colony' reinvented itself. Standing outside the office at Typower, looking down at the staff cars and the gate, John saw a village in transition. Inside the sheds, the grease of the railway was replaced by the precision of power generators. 

While the blind makers and trimmers of the 1940s had moved on, the rhythm of the sheds remained the same. In this interior shot from John Drewett, we see the Typower team at their benches. Look closely and you’ll see the original railway clock still keeping time on the wall. They weren't just working in an old building; they were the guardians of a Lancing tradition of excellence that refused to fade away.

Inside the old sheds, the silence left by the carriages didn't last long. As John Drewett’s photos show, the high-ceilinged workshops were soon humming with a new energy. Under the original railway clocks and beneath the massive brick arches, the Typower team was building the future. It’s a rare look at the 'private' life of the works that few locals would have seen from the street."

"In the mid-1960s, a new kind of worker arrived at the old gates. While the older generation remembered the steam and the smell of fresh paint in the Carriage Shops, men like John Drewett brought drawing boards and technical blueprints. Working in the upper floors of the repurposed sheds, John’s world was one of 'Power Units' and 'Design Specifications.'

It’s a tragedy we can’t ask John more today, but his photos act as a silent testimony. They show a site that refused to die—where the old Victorian brickwork of the Southern Railway was simply given a new set of signs and a fresh lease on life."

Name	Role	Company	Connection
John Drewett	Draughtsman	Typower Ltd	Lived in Australia later; provided key photos.
Phil Tyrer	Managing Director	Typower Ltd	The man who brought "Typower" to the site.
Ted King	Chief Draughtsman	Typower Ltd	John Drewett’s boss in the design office.
Bob Young	Workshop Foreman	Typower Ltd	Oversaw the loading of the generators in John’s photos.

Walking into the Works in 1965, you would have seen a village in miniature. In one shed, the old railway skills were being used by Manhattan Furniture to build modern kitchens. In another, a team led by Phil Tyrer at Typower Ltd was designing high-tech generators. Among them was John Drewett, working alongside men like Ted King and Ernie Hall in the draughtsman’s office. They were the architects of Lancing’s future, proving that the ‘Colony’ could survive the loss of the trains.
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The Search for the 'Analogue' Era: In the days before smartphones, taking a photo at work was a rare event. You had to bring a camera, use up a roll of film, and wait a week for the prints to come back from the chemist. This makes John Drewett’s photos incredibly precious. Do you have an old 'Instamatic' snap of your workshop at Manhattan Furniture? Or perhaps a photo of the staff at Typower? These 'everyday' shots are now the treasures of our village history.

If you worked at Typower or Manhattan and remember that original railway clock on the wall, or if you still have an old payslip or 'tool check' from the works, please let us know!
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Trade / Specialism	Key Names Identified	Era	The "Skill" Factor
Blind Maker	Mr. Morris (Cyril’s Dad)	1945–1950	Precision tailoring & light engineering for carriage privacy.
Upholsterer / Trimmer	Wilfred (Basil) Law	1950s–1964	The "Ashford" tradition of luxury leather & fabric work.
Draughtsman / Design	John Drewett, Ted King	1960s–1970s	Translating heavy engineering into modern power solutions.
Fire Watch / Security	Patricia Mensa’s Father	WWII–1950s	The guardians of the site during its most vulnerable hours.
Generator Assembly	Ernie Hall, Ken Simons	1960s/70s	The "White Heat" of 1960s tech at Typower Ltd.
Cabinet Making	Manhattan Furniture Team	1965–1990s	Repurposing railway craft for the modern British kitchen.

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The Lancing 'Colony' was a hive of specific skills that you simply didn't find elsewhere. While some men were heavy engineers, others, like Cyril Morris's father, were masters of detail. As a Blind Maker between 1945 and 1950, he would have been responsible for the thousands of window blinds that gave Southern Railway carriages their polished finish. By the 1990s, the sun that once helped blind makers see their work was still coming through the same saw-tooth roofs, though by then the sheds were housing MOT centres and car auctions instead of railway craftsmen.

The Blind Makers worked in a world of specialised fabrics and heavy-duty spring mechanisms—it was a trade that required the precision of a watchmaker and the strength of a sailmaker."

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The Living Skeleton of the Works "Fast-forwarding to 2006, the 'saw-tooth' roofs of the estate remain one of the most iconic sights in Lancing. Originally designed by the railway architects to flood the carriage shops with natural north light, they have sheltered a century of change. From wartime munitions and post-war blind making to the heavy engineering of Typower and today’s modern service centres, these roofs are the constant heartbeat of the site. They are a reminder that while the 'Colony' as a social unit is gone, its industrial spirit is still very much under cover."
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• Part 1: The Guardians of the Works: Firemen & Veterans

• Part 2: The Silent Partners: Women & Youth (1941–1945)

• Part 3: Mr Warr and the Lancing Railway Fire Brigade
  
  
• Part 4: The Bofors Crew: From Shop Floor to Front Line
   
  Part 4b: The Shingle Skeletons - A Prequel to the Front Line
      
• Part 5: The Lancing Squad – Precision on the Front Line 
  
  
• Part 6: Bomb Alley- The day the FW -190s came to Lancing 
  
  

• Part 7: The Invisible Colony (You are here)
  

• Part 8: The Final Reveal – The Skeletons in the Garden

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