The A-Z of Curious Sussex E-Book

Wendy Hughes

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 257

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

In this engaging book, Wendy Hughes takes you on a grand tour of the curious and bizarre, the strange and the unusual from Sussex's past. Read about the Alfriston Star – the hostelry for medieval package tours with its unusual ship's figurehead, the Russian memorial to Finnish soldiers, Crazy Jack who couldn't stop building and who is buried in a pyramid, the inventor of vapour baths and the lady who fooled the army. Along the way you will meet scandalous residents, inventors, and smugglers galore. The A-Z of Curious Sussex is guaranteed to fascinate both resident and visitor alike.

Leseprobe

For my friends at Worthy Words Workshops, Sea Scribes, and a special thanks to Lyn McInroy, for all their encouragement and support.

First published 2017

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

© Wendy Hughes, 2017

The right of Wendy Hughes to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 0 7509 8643 4

Typesetting and origination by The History Press

Printed in Great Britain

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

Introduction

The A-Z of Curious Sussex

About the Author

The physicist, Albert Einstein said, ‘The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvellous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day.’ This is certainly true when you look at the county of Sussex, defined by its spectacular walks along the chalky Southdowns and the dramatic rugged coastline. It is also the home of the infamous smuggling gangs, who would stop at nothing to bring their illicit cargo safely ashore. But behind this amazing façade, there is an assortment of tales of mystery, the strange, the extraordinary, the funny, the unexplained, as well as the bizarre and sad. Add to this the exploits of the ‘stand and deliver’ highwaymen, the shipwrecks, and with both Horsham and Lewis gaols in the county we have a fair share of gory crimes too.

The county also has its larger-than-life characters, its wacky inventors, its trailblazers who made their mark in society, which all add up to a rich collection of anecdotes. In this book I have attempted to seek out a few stories that are well-known and worth retelling as well as filling in the gaps of some lesser stories, and hopefully adding a few that are new and will allow the reader to understand a little about life’s mysteries and never to stop asking questions.

I have tried to be informative and I hope I will be forgiven for choosing those versions of the stories that have appealed to me personally, the tales that made me question why a building was built or to seek out the curious story behind why something happened. As they say, you can’t please everyone all the time, but I hope that each reader will discover between these pages something new and of interest to enjoy.

Wendy Hughes, 2017

ALBOURNE

Inventor extraordinaire

To start our voyage around intriguing Sussex we’ll pick up a traditional mode of transport and take ourselves to the story of one of the most successful inventors of bicycles, tricycles and the differential gear, as well as the perfector of the bicycle chain drive. James Starley was born in 1830 into a farming family, who lived at Woodbine Cottage in Albourne. He was educated locally, and even at the age of 9 demonstrated an inventive mind by making a rat trap from a ripped umbrella and a branch of a willow tree. This enabled a duck to waddle through a hole in a fence, allowing the mechanism to close behind, so a rat or any other predator couldn’t follow. Young James certainly didn’t inherit the family flair for farming and at the age of 15 left home, walking via Little Horsted to Tunbridge Wells through Sevenoaks, to end up five years later at Lewisham where he obtained work as an under-gardener. In his spare time he mended watches and made useful items such as an adjustable candlestick and a mechanical bassinet to soothe the crying baby of his employer John Penn. John bought a rare and expensive sewing machine for his wife from his friend Josiah Turner, a partner in Newton, Wilson & Company, but it broke down, and he turned to James for help. He not only mended it, but improved the mechanism. John was so impressed that he rushed off to tell Turner, and James joined the factory in Holborn. Two years later in Coventry, Turner and Starley set up the Coventry Sewing Machine Company with James working on his own invention called ‘The European’, but his inventive skills were destined for bigger things. In 1868 Turner’s nephew brought a new French bone-shaker called a velocipede to the factory, and immediately James could see room for improvement, and set to work on a version with a lighter wheel. Grabbing the opportunity, the company started making bicycles and soon became the centre of the British bicycle industry, especially with the Ariel, an all metal vehicle with wire-spoked wheels. By 1876 he’d developed the Coventry Lever Tricycle, using two small wheels on the right side and a larger drive wheel on the left, the power being supplied by hand levers. This was followed by the Coventry Rotary, one of the first rotary chain-drive tricycles, and a favourite with those who didn’t feel confident on a high wheeler. Local folklore informs us that on a visit home, James sold one of his penny-farthing bicycles to Queen Victoria, after he overtook her horse-drawn carriage by sheer pedal power. After his death in 1881 James’s sons continued to manufacture cycles, but it was his nephew, John Kemp Starley, and a colleague who made a difference by devising the modern Rover safety bicycle with 26in wheels. Even today the word Rover means bicycle in countries such as Poland. Of course the motor-driven bicycle gave way to motorcycles, followed by the motor car, and to think this may not have happened if James Starley had chosen a rural life amongst the corn and wheat.

Woodbine Cottage, family home of James Starley (Conrad Hughes)

Poster showing the velocipede in various stages of development

ALDWICK

The stench of cooking fish

On a wet blustery December night in 1912 a young lady answered a knock on the door at Goodman House, home of Mr New. She was alarmed to find a soaking wet man, clearly distressed, speaking in a foreign language, with agitated hand gestures. The police were called, and an inspector and constable set out to solve the mystery. As they walked along Steyne Street they came across three bare-footed men covered in sand, and again despite the language difficulties established that their ship, Carnot, had beached. Meanwhile the local postman came across three men who indicated through hand gestures that their shipmates had headed off in the direction of Bognor Regis. Soon the crew were reunited, but no-one could understand them until Mr New remembered Louis Peacock. He could speak French, and eventually their story emerged. It was now 11.30 p.m. on 29 December, and the policeman called George Walters, the local secretary of the Shipwrecked Mariners’ Aid Society, took the men to the Pier Restaurant in Waterloo Square where they were given hot food before being settled for the night. A telegram was sent to Captain Bailbed’s home in St Malo confirming that he and his crew were safe and well. The ship’s dog, a large black retriever, was placed in the stables at Mr Peacock’s home, but frightened, it howled until Mr Peacock took it inside where, exhausted from its ordeal, it went to sleep lying across Mr Peacock’s chest. By now Carnot rested high up on the beach, its sails still raised. The coastguards, receiving a message about a vessel aground, sent the coxswain and a member of the lifeboat crew to investigate. When they arrived they found resident Mrs Croxton-Johnson looking at the ship in disbelief, and realising the lifeboat was not needed they returned to base. The following morning the Receiver of Wrecks arrived, and the coastguards took possession of the ship and cargo. Spectators from Bognor Regis gathered in the wintry sunshine to take photographs, and on Monday the Carnot’s hatches were opened. She had been carrying a cargo of 160 tons of cement and 110 barrels of herrings, and as the seawater mixed with the cement, it heated, the herrings baked, and the air was filled with the acrid smell of cooked fish, which the spectators said gave the impression that the ship was on fire. Meanwhile the crew were enjoying the hospitality of the town, with Mr Peacock acting as interpreter. Sets of clothing were quickly found for all, and Mrs Croxton-Johnson invited the crew to her home for tea. In the evening they were taken to a picture show at the Pier Theatre where a collection raised £2, and other donations amounted to another £2 4s (£2.20). The following evening they were taken to the local Kursaal theatre to enjoy a Christmas pantomime, Babes in the Woods. By now members of the French Consulate had arrived from Newhaven and took charge, arranging the purchase of new clothes for all at a shop in West Street, but when they returned to St Malo on New Year’s Day, their captain and owner stayed, and was joined by his wife for an unexpected New Year break. I expect the smell of cooking fish became a talking point for many months to come.

The French crew with the grounded Carnot in the background (West Sussex County Library)

ALFRISTON

Where did he burn those cakes?

The story of King Alfred famously burning the cakes is well known, but no-one knows exactly where it occurred. Some say it happened on the site of the Star Inn when it was no more than just a peasant’s hut. Alfred was the Saxon king of Wessex when the Danes were busy seizing land from the Saxons, and after one particular battle Alfred found himself cut off from his soldiers. Alone, he was forced to flee, and legend claims that the hungry and tired king sought food and shelter in the hut of a poor peasant woman, who fed him and let him stay. After two or three days the king was well enough to think about how to regroup his soldiers and attack the savage Danes. Could he drive them from his kingdom for good? As he was thinking about his next course of action, the woman asked him to watch some griddle cakes while she went about her daily work. Lost in thought the king soon forgot about his task and let the cakes burn. When the peasant woman returned and saw the burnt cakes on the hearth she scolded the king, and hit him with a stick. From this experience Alfred learnt of the need to always be vigilant. Is this tale true or not? Who knows? It is claimed that Alfriston means ‘Alfred’s town’ and Alfred is known to have connections in the area. There was a royal palace at nearby West Dean, which he is supposed to have owned or used, so was he trying to get there when he became so exhausted that he had to stop?

Is this the village where Alfred the Great burnt the cakes? (Conrad Hughes)

Smuggling days

The Star Inn is believed to have been built as a hostel by the Abbot of Battle in 1345 to accommodate monks travelling to the shrine of St Richard in the city of Chichester. In the 1500s it was turned into an inn with numerous fascinating colourful wooden figures built into the front of the building. One is said to be St Michael fighting a dragon, and another is a bishop, perhaps St Richard? Outside the inn sits a rather strange-looking figurehead of a red lion, taken from a Dutch ship wrecked in Cuckmere Haven 300 years ago, and ransacked by the infamous Alfriston Gang. The leader was Stanton Collins, who came from a good family who lived at the Market Cross Inn, now the Smugglers Inn. When he took it over from his father he turned it into a bar and smugglers’ haunt. It is a curious building with twenty-one rooms, forty-eight doors, six staircases and numerous hidden exits including tunnels, one of which led under the floor of the bar down towards the river, though that was filled in a while ago. If customs men came into the bar the smugglers could escape through a space beside the chimney into a secluded hideout, and when the customs men left, their friends would shout up the chimney that it was safe. The notoriously violent gang used the river (now a stream) that meandered beyond the High Street to bring their illegal gains from Cuckmere Haven to the village for distribution. The gang were never caught, but broke up when Stanton Collins was arrested, not for smuggling, but for burning a barn. He was tried at the Winter Assizes in December 1831 and sentenced to transportation to Tasmania for seven years, aboard the Lord William Bentinck. The gang had a reputation for being ruthless, and one tale tells us that one of the smugglers was in hiding above the cliffs overlooking Cuckmere Haven one dark night, waiting for a sign that the booty had landed. His job was then to alert the gang that it was safe to collect it. He was about to go and tell them when he noticed a revenue officer at the cliff top picking his way through the dark, guided by large chalk rocks set at intervals along the path. Of course the gang was well prepared, and had moved some of the rocks so they led directly to the cliff edge. As the officer tumbled down the cliff he yelled out, but managed to grab the edge of the cliff. The smugglers rushed from their hidey-hole, and stood looking down at the officer hanging on by his fingertips. He begged them to save him but one of the gang stepped forward and stamped on his fingers, sending him spiralling to his death. Everyone thought the officer accidentally fell in the dark and it was only a deathbed confession by one of the gang that revealed the truth.

Site of hostel built by the Abbots of Battle (Conrad Hughes)

The Star Inn as it is today (Conrad Hughes)

The Smugglers Inn, home of notorious smuggler Stanton Collins (Conrad Hughes)

Man’s best friend

Towards the end of the 1700s the son and heir of the Chowne family of Place House Estate went for a walk with his dog, possibly a little white terrier. It was Midsummer’s Eve, and as he walked along White Way, between Alfriston and Seaford, he was attacked near Dean’s Place and killed by a blow to the head. He was quickly buried by the thieves in the roadside bank with his dog. Seven years later, a couple were walking along the road, and saw a small white dog disappear into the bank of the road, and on every seventh year after on the anniversary of the murder, the phantom dog, sometimes seen with his master, returned and disappeared into the bank. Then in the early 1800s when the road was being widened, the skeleton of a young man was discovered. His bones were removed and laid to rest in the church and the ghostly dog never appeared again, presumably content to know that at last his master was at rest.

ARUNDEL

A fright of ghosts

Most castles have a ghost or two lurking within their corridors, and Arundel Castle is no exception. Some claim it’s the home of at least seven! First on the list and the oldest is the ghost of Earl Roger de Montgomery, 1st Earl of Arundel, who built the castle, and still keeps a watchful gaze on it from the keep, watching everything that passes by. But one of the saddest ghostly inhabitants must be the spirit of a boy who is thought to have worked in the kitchens 200 years ago or more. It is believed that his master beat him, and one day he struck him so severely that the poor boy died. His ghost has been heard, but not seen, on many occasions, scurrying around the kitchen, or feverishly scrubbing the pots and pans. The second saddest must be the ghost of a young lady who also used to work at the castle. She fell in love with a bishop but was rejected. Unable to cope, she killed herself by jumping off the top of Hiorne’s Tower. She is seen, usually in moonlight, dressed in white and always crying as she wanders around the top of the tower looking for him. Strangest of all is the apparition of a man who frequents the library. No-one knows who he is, but he’s wearing blue silk garments of Charles II period and has acquired the name of ‘Blue Man’. Custodians have seen him searching through or reading the books, although the book itself varies. He only stays for a minute or two before disappearing, so perhaps he is searching for some lost fact, an inventory or a will? Some say a cavalier haunts the library, but as there is very little known about him it has been suggested that it is just the Blue Man. The library is also the residence of a little black dog, belonging to Sir Philip Howard, 13th Earl of Arundel in the days of the reign of Elizabeth I. This earl was sentenced to death for failing to renounce his Roman Catholic faith, and although the sentence was never carried out, he spent eleven years in the Tower of London accompanied by his dog. Several of the guides have been asked, always by children, who does the little dog in the library belong to? As yet no adult has reported seeing it, so does it only appear to children? Finally, an alarming subject for a ghost is that of a small white bird, very similar in size and shape to an owl, seen on many occasions fluttering around the windows of the castle, but always just before the death of a resident. We do know that before the keep was restored the dukes kept a colony of white American owls. Is it one of them, I wonder? The most recent sighting of a ghost was by a trainee footman in 1958 who was on his way to switch off the drawbridge lights. Halfway along he noticed someone about 15ft in front of him going in the same direction. As he got nearer he could only see the head and shoulders of a man wearing a light grey tunic with loose sleeves. He had longish hair and he guessed the man was in his early twenties. The footman said the image was like an old photograph with the outline blurred, but he could see nothing below the waist. As he walked on the apparition faded and disappeared completely. The terrified footman ran back along the drawbridge forgetting to switch off the lights.

Hiorne’s Tower, allegedly haunted by the figure of a White Lady (Conrad Hughes)

Saints above, nuns, priest and an eerie tale!

It is not known when the first church of St Nicholas was built, but the Domesday Survey records a church dedicated to St Nicholas between the years 1042 and 1066. The church is unique, being the home of two denominations, Roman Catholic and Church of England. In 1836, the Fitzalan Chapel was exchanged for land on which to build the new town, and in 1874 a brick wall was built next to the grille to divide the church, which resulted in a legal argument involving the Roman Catholic Duke of Norfolk, and the then Church of England rector, Rev. G. Arbuthnot, as well as a some nuns who’d been allowed to use it. The high court ruled that the chapel belonged to the Duke of Norfolk and so began the curious situation of two churches of different denominations using the same space. The late 16th Duke of Norfolk, being a leading Roman Catholic layman, did a lot to break down the barriers, and as an ecumenical gesture of goodwill, took down the upper part of the wall in 1956; the lower half was removed in 1968. It is now separated by a grille and a glass screen and can only be accessed via the castle. In 1983 the Wilkinson family visited the castle with their children and, whilst the children played on the grassy bank outside, went into the chapel. Suddenly Mrs Wilkinson felt strangely drawn to one of the female effigies in Elizabethan costume on the tomb in one of the side aisles. She turned to tell her husband, but, feeling icy cold and sensing a strong sense of resentment coming from the tomb, he had gone outside. Two friends of the family visited the chapel a few years later, and without knowing of their friends’ experience, reported experiencing a cold chill and a feeling of aggressive hostility around the tomb. During the English Civil War the Roundheads used the chapel as a barracks, smashing all the stained glass and mutilating the effigies. It was also used to stable the horses, and some say that this may account for the eerie icy chill experienced by visitors. Another incident occurred in the 1940s when a solicitor took a photograph of the inside of the church, and on receiving the prints was astonished to see ‘a shadowy robed figure’, possibly that of a priest, standing in front of the altar, although at the time the solicitor was the only person in the church. Over the years there were several reports by the town crier of the figure of a nun in grey habit. Each time she was sitting on a chair but within a few moments would vanish, chair and all! Later the town crier saw the same nun on the stairway of the bell tower, and several years later visitors too reported seeing the apparition. Behind the landing where she was seen was an oak door leading on to a wooden platform, and it’s thought that during the Civil War it was used as a lookout point. The nun could have been one of the nuns from the nearby convent order of Poor Clares, who may have jumped or fallen. In January 1975 the 16th duke died, and not long after the funeral one of the church wardens happened to look into the chapel from the St Nicholas side and noticed what he thought was a white-haired family mourner kneeling before the altar. The woman was dressed in a long blue robe and it was not until he mentioned her to the gardener that they realised he had actually seen a ghost! The gardener said the church was locked and only he had a key, and it was still in his pocket. Both men went to check and found the door still locked and no-one inside. One of the most recent sightings occurred in December 1995 when a bell ringer going up the stairs found he was following an unknown person, who disappeared by the time he reached the bell chamber!

Fitzalan Chapel was used as a barracks during the English Civil War (Conrad Hughes)

BRAMBER

Mystery and legend sit amongst the oak beams

St Mary’s House is brimming to its oak beams with intriguing legends and ghosts all living comfortably with its present owners. When Peter Thorogood and Roger Linton combined their finances, talents and skills in 1984 and purchased the medieval house, it already had a long history. Its origins go back to the days of the Knights Templar when Philip de Braose, son of William de Braose of Bramber Castle, went on the First Crusade in 1099, opening up Jerusalem for visiting pilgrims. This led to the founding of the Order of Knights of the Temple of Jerusalem, and when Philip died, his widow bequeathed 5 acres of land at Bramber to the Order. The present building was refashioned around 1470 to accommodate pilgrims on their way to pay homage at the tomb of St Thomas of Canterbury. When Peter moved in he said a monk used to continually knock on the doorway, and it is thought that there is an underground tunnel leading from the house to St Botolph’s Monastery at Upper Beeding. Could some long-forgotten monk be knocking to gain admission after a visit? Obviously the monk is content with the restoration as he has been silent for a while. During the Second World War Canadian soldiers billeted at the house reported a mysterious monk wandering about, and land girls reported seeing monks in the vicinity. After the Dissolution of the Monasteries the house was no longer a religious place, and the name dates to the Elizabethan period when it became a grand two-storeyed building. When Queen Elizabeth I visited western Sussex on one of her travels, the most likely place for her to stay would have been with her Treasurer-at-War who lived at nearby Wiston Manor. However, she disliked him, so it’s possible that she preferred the hospitality offered at St Mary’s. Legend informs us that itinerant painter-stainers were hurriedly hired to decorate the upper chamber with panels depicting scenes of battle with galleons in full sail, believed to be the fleet of King Henry VIII during the battle with the French in 1545. As no records exist, we can’t be certain the visit took place, but a photograph of St Mary’s taken in 1860 by a Brighton photographer, William Cornish, had the caption ‘The house at Bramber at which Queen Elizabeth put up during her summer tour through the south of England.’ Several people have reported the smell of musky perfume in the bedroom over the ‘Painted Room’, and a sweet herby smell like a potpourri has been detected on the landing outside. Strangest of all is the mysterious pretty little Elizabethan child, smartly dressed in doublet and hose with a black velvet hat with a feather, seen playing happily on the upper landing and looking down the stairs in anticipation with a cheeky smile on his face. Is he waiting excitedly for the arrival of the queen? Did he belong to the household of the time, or is he a visitor? If only walls could talk, what stories they would tell. The Edwardian period up to the Great War was a time of splendour for St Mary’s with lavish partying and again the years between the two wars were happy with the house now in the hands of the McConnel family, who allowed it to be used as a finishing school for wealthy young American girls. Romantic tales of young men flying over from Shoreham Airport and dropping love-notes into the garden for the girls are all part of its history. One favourite game of the McConnel children was ‘The King’s Escape’ which was played in the King’s Room. Behind the chimney-stack there’s a secret door, and a hiding place reputed to have been used by Prince Charles prior to his escape to France, verified by the fact that he sailed from Shoreham harbour. Around 1935 Sheelagh McConnel’s grandmother, Mimi, several times saw another apparition of a wWhite Lady on the stairs. Who and what is her connection with St Mary’s? Obviously these ghosts and their stories are interwoven into the fabric of the building, and like multi-generations living as one family, the ghosts are content to rub shoulders with one another. The owners must feel proud to have saved St Mary’s for future generations and have been rewarded by winning several awards, including ‘Best Restoration’ in Hudson’s Heritage Awards 2011; Highly Commended in the Beautiful South Awards for Excellence 2015-16, and the latest, a Highly Commended in the Sussex Heritage Trust Awards 2016. I hope the ghostly family are suitably impressed.

St Mary’s at Bramber has a history reaching back through the centuries (Conrad Hughes)

Was this room hurriedly decorated for Queen Elizabeth I’s stay? (Conrad Hughes)

BREDE

What’s for supper tonight – a juicy child maybe?

If tradition can be believed, Brede once had a flesh-eating giant whose speciality was children, and he enjoyed eating one for supper every night. Old Oxenbridge the Ogre, was none other than Sir Goddard Oxenbridge of Brede Place. However, history tells a tale of a good Christian who was an usher at the funeral of Henry VII and made a Knight of the Bath to honour the coronation of Henry VIII. But, let’s return to folklore. It’s said that ‘neither bow and arrow, nor axe, nor sword, nor spear, could slay this redoubtable giant’, but he was finally brought down by a group of children who brewed a huge vat of beer and placed it on Groaning Bridge. Unable to resist, the giant soon drank every drop, watched from a distance by the children. Once he was hopelessly drunk they sawed him in half with a wooden saw, the East Sussex children one end, their West Sussex cousins the other. The spot is haunted by his ghost in the form of a severed tree. A true tale or not? We shall never know, but theories are many. The story may have originated because Sir Goddard was a Catholic at a time when they were unpopular, or smugglers occupying Brede Place may have used the tale to prevent nosy people from prying. Some have suggested local mothers created the story to encourage naughty children to behave.

The tomb of Sir Goddard Oxenbridge, a good man or an eater of children? (Conrad Hughes)

BOSHAM

Who lies beneath?

The palace of King Canute at Bosham is featured on the Bayeux Tapestry, and the distraught king was said to have buried his 8-year-old daughter in the church near where she tragically drowned in a mill stream, but with little evidence to back the story of his daughter, it remained a myth. Then in 1865, the Gentleman’s Magazine