It’s a sign: Lewes, 1

Judging by the number of signs on its buildings, I think it’s fair to say that the small East Sussex town of Lewes must have had more famous people per capita living within its boundaries over the centuries than any other town in Britain. And what an interesting assortment of people they have been.

First off, Albion Russell (1821-1888), who opened a boot and shoe shop in Lewes in 1861. He was joined by George Bromley in 1873 after Bromley married Russell’s daughter Elizabeth, and, if you know your shoe brands, then you’ll know the rest. Together they formed the now-famous and still highly successful high-end footwear-manufacturing partnership of Russell and Bromley.

Portrait of Richard Russell by Benjamin Wilson, in public domain via Wikimedia Commons

Next, there’s Dr Richard Russell F.R.S. (1687-1759) (I wonder if he was related to the bootmaker). In 1750, he was the author of a dissertation that prescribed the drinking of sea water as a cure for diseases of the lymphatic glands, and he further recommended that people should try the waters near Brighton, both for drinking and for bathing. The popularity of his ideas contributed to Brighton becoming a fashionable bathing resort, and there is also a plaque for him in Brighton.

Here’s another famous Lewes-born doctor, Gideon A. Mantell F.R.S. (1790-1852). 

The son of a shoemaker, Mantell was apprenticed to a local doctor in 1805 and was later awarded his diploma as a Member of the Royal College of Surgeons. 

In his spare time, Mantell was a keen amateur geologist and he and his wife Mary would take long walks collecting fossils. 

It was on one of these walks that Mantell discovered the fossilised bones of a prehistoric reptile he later named the Iguanodon (though rumour has it that Mary made the actual discovery!).

[Image of Mantell's Maidstone fossil Iguanodon, 1840, via Wikimedia Commons]

Thomas Matthew was a generous man. A Presbyterian and a woollen draper, in his will of 21 December 1688 he bequeathed his house, St Michael’s Court on Keere Hill, for the use and benefit of the poor (chiefly poor widows) of the parish of St Michael-in-Lewes. The local County Court later ordered that the building ‘should be used as a residence for six deserving poor widows or poor single women not less than fifty years of age’, and it continued to function as an almshouse until 1960. Nowadays, this early 18th-century flint building contains two substantial and rather expensive private houses.

At 12 Keere Street, there once lived an author called Eve Garnett (1900-1991). She wrote The Family from One End Street, thought to be based in Lewes, which won the Carnegie Medal for Best Children’s Book in 1938 (beating Tolkein’s The Hobbit) and is still considered a classic. Garnett was also an accomplished artist, illustrating many children’s books, including Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses, and exhibiting at The Tate and the Lefevre Gallery. One of her paintings, ‘Lewes Gasworks from South Street’, is in the collections at the Barbican.

And last but most certainly not least – in fact, this last was a man of international fame, the man who wrote Common Sense and The Rights of Man and The Age of Reason, the man who has been hailed as the intellectual inspiration behind the American war of independence, the great Thomas Paine (1737-1809). Just to be clear, Paine wasn’t born in Lewes but he did live in a house here, now called Bull House, from 1768 to 1774, at which time he was a plain old tobacconist and exciseman. Paine married Elizabeth Olive, the daughter of the owners of Bull House, in 1771 but then he left her in 1774, moved initially to London and subsequently to America to stir up revolution.

Lewes: some street signs

I found much to love about Lewes during the day I spent there on my recent visit to East Sussex, as you will see in this and the blogs that follow.

Church Twitten

Move over road, street and boulevard, in Lewes we have the twitten. As the Oxford Dictionary defines it, a twitten is ‘a narrow path or passage between two walls or hedges’, and the word’s origin may be Low German, from the word tweite meaning lane or alley. If wiktionary and William Douglas Parish (from his 1875 book A dictionary of the Sussex dialect and collection of provincialisms in use in the county of Sussex) are to be believed, this is an exclusively Sussex word that is a corruption of betwixt and between. The word is obviously rather old as Church Twitten, and the many other twittens in Lewes, are the subject of a book by Kim Clark, The Twittens: The Saxon and Norman Lanes of Lewes (Pomegranate Press, 2012).

Pipe Passage

As well as the twitten, Lewes also has the passage, several of them in fact, leading hither and yon. 

This one had its own plaque explaining that Pipe Passage is ‘named after [a] 19th century clay pipe kiln’ and that the route ‘follows Saxon and Medieval access to [the] town wall defences’. 

I found out a little more:

... formerly Westgate Passage. It follows the line of the old town wall which still remains in this quarter of the town. A little way up Pipe Passage on the left is a small piece of ground between it and the town wall. It was formerly roofed over and was used as a workshop for making clay pipes, and the kiln for firing them still partially remains built into the north wall which owes its survival to the fact that it is a retaining wall for higher ground behind. [From N.E.S. Norris, ‘A Victorian Pipe Kiln in Lewes’, Journal of Post-Medieval Archaeology, Vol.4, Issue 1, 1970]

English’s Passage

What can I say? The story behind English’s Passage has eluded me. 

The alleyway itself is certainly very old as one of the buildings at the High Street end is heritage-listed and dates from the 16th century, and these old lanes and passages are all thought to date from Saxon or Norman times. 

The very picturesque row of cottages shown in my photo at right is not so old – the houses date from the early 19th century. They may perhaps have been built for the managers and overseers who worked at nearby Harvey’s Brewery. 

But the reason why this passage is named English’s will have to remain a mystery for now.

Cockshut Road

England would not be England without its weird, wonderful and sometimes downright rude place names. Just as Stonesfield in Oxfordshire has its Cockshoot Close and West End in Surrey has its Cocknmouth Close, so Lewes has Cockshut Road and, indeed, a Cockshut stream. The word Cockshut is actually pronounced Cock-chute by the locals and is apparently derived from a 13th-century Sussex word to describe a place where woodcocks or geese could be ensnared. The waterway, The Cockshut, is a tributary of the River Ouse and its course has been much altered over the years: back in the 12th century one of its branches flowed through the grounds of Lewes Priory and was used to cleanse the reredorter.

I do enjoy flushing out these fascinating dollops of local history.

Sussex: The Long Man and the White Horse

No visit to my friend Jill in Sussex is complete without a drive past at least one of the enigmatic and incredibly large figures, inscribed on the local hills.

The origins of the Long Man of Wilmington have even the experts baffled. At around 230 feet tall, it was once thought to be the largest representation of the human form in the world. Some people speculate that it was carved out of the hillside by prehistoric man to scare away wolves, others that it was created by the monks of nearby Wilmington Priory. Perhaps he’s a figure from some ancient and primitive fertility cult, though the fact that he lacks any reproductive organs would seem to rule out that theory.

The sign on the hill overlooking the figure says that, during the Victorian period, ‘the shape was marked out with yellow bricks’, though those have since been replaced with concrete blocks. The intriguing thing to me is that whoever first marked out the shape was aware of the distortion created by the sloping angle of the hillside and compensated for it: the true shape of the Long Man is elongated so as to appear more normal from a distance.

The White Horse at Litlington is a true chalk figure, cut into the steep side of a hill in the Cuckmere Valley, and one of several large horse figures that adorn the hills of England, some ancient, some very modern. The origins of this particular figure are better documented: according to the National Trust, it was first cut into the downs by four men in 1836 and then re-carved in 1924 by a grandson of one of those men.

The horse is regularly restored by the National Trust, most recently in April this year, when volunteers first weeded the figure, then spread six tonnes of chalk over it to spruce it up. You can see the difference in its appearance in the two photographs below, one taken on a rather grey day in August 2014 and the other just last week.

It’s a sign: East Sussex

You know I just can’t resist a well-designed / interesting / lovely / intriguing / memorable / fascinating sign when I see one so, of course, I photographed a few during my recent short break in East Sussex. Here they are:

The Kings Head, Battle

The Kings Head is reputed to be the oldest pub in Battle but I don’t know if that’s actually true. The English Heritage website says it’s a Grade II-listed timber-framed building, dating from the 17th century or earlier, though it has at some point been modernised and had a new front attached. When researching this piece, I found a fascinating reference to documents, pertaining to the building, that are held at the East Sussex Record Office. 

The will of William Easton of Battle gent., dated 1783, proved PCC 1789, among other property devises a freehold messuage in Battle to John Longley the elder of Battle bricklayer and then to his son John ... In a mortgage of Nov 1810, the property is called Delveday ...

In Nov 1833, Ann Longley conveyed this property to her mother Mary ... who in Oct 1837 sold it to Thomas Wickham of Battle, miller for £650 ... The property passed to his daughter Elizabeth, wife of William Austin of Battle, victualler ... In June 1845, they sold the property, now known as the Kings Head Inn, for £735 to William Miskin of Broad Street, Horselydown, Surrey and others ... [and there is more]

The pub obviously has a long and interesting history. It also does reasonable food, as we discovered when we stopped off here for an early dinner on our way home from Rye Harbour.

The Cuckmere Inn, Cuckmere Haven

This was our lunch stop on the day we spent at the Seven Sisters Country Park, and a very pleasant one it was too. Conveniently situated at Exceat, on the road between Seaford and Eastbourne, and overlooking the Cuckmere River, the outdoor terraces proved a very pleasant place to eat and sparrow watch – a rather large flock has discovered the joys of human leftovers.

Though I haven’t been able to date the Inn, I imagine it is quite old. It is perfectly sited as a transfer point when the nearby beach at Cuckmere Haven was used by smugglers in the Middle Ages. The top part of the sign includes part of the coat of Arms of the nearby port of Seaford: the ‘lion-hulks’ (half lion half ship) appear in the heraldry of many of the Cinque Ports towns, and the eagle comes from the coat of arms of the d'Aquila family, former landowners in medieval times. The lower part of the sign shows the meandering Cuckmere River, and the motto ‘E ventis vires’ means ‘From the wind, strength’, a reference to the days of sailing ships.

The Cuckmere Inn used to be called the Golden Galleon, an allusion to Drake’s galleon the Golden Hind perhaps or to the Famous Five book? Who knows. I do know lunch was delicious!

Unstable ground

This sign appears at the start of the Seven Sisters cliff-top walk and other similar warning signs have been hammered into the ground all along the cliff tops. Unfortunately, the warnings are frequently ignored by walkers, who range perilously close to the cliff edges, as you can see from my photo. They’re mad! The chalk is crumbly and, with constant encouragement from wind and rain, large slices of cliff fall off on a regular basis.

The Ram, Firle

Another day, another scrumptious pub lunch. The Ram is in the tiny historic village of Firle and is part of the 500-year-old Firle Estate, owned by the Gage family. The inn is a Grade II-listed, brick and flint building that used to be a regular rest stop for the Lewes to Alfriston coach – that’s horse and coach, not motorised bus! The building was also once used as the village court room where the rents for tenant farmers were set and collected. Nowadays, it’s a popular lunch stop and also has boutique accommodation if you fancy a weekend away in a delightful setting.

Metal detecting prohibited

After our lunch at the Ram in Firle, we drove to the top of the hills above and walked a few miles of the South Downs Way. This sign hung on a gate into farmland at the beginning of our walk. In case you can’t quite make it out the sign reads: ‘Firle Estate. METAL DETECTING ON THIS LAND IS A CRIMINAL OFFENCE. To Report an incident Please Call the Estate Office on xxx or Sussex Police on xxx.’ It’s the first time I’ve seen anything like this but, as the hilltops are dotted with ancient Bronze Age barrows and Neolithic earthworks, I can certainly understand the prohibition on amateur metal detecting.

East Sussex: Priory Park, Lewes

Mention ‘ruins’ and, in the blink of an eye, my camera bag is packed, and I’m in the car, ready to go! So, when Jill suggested we visit the site of an old priory, I said yes immediately (and, even better, it’s in a public park, so no entrance fee).

This from the signboard at the entrance:

The Priory of St Pancras, founded about 1078, was one of the largest and most powerful monasteries in England. It was of international importance as the first Priory in England linked to the influential Abbey of Cluny in Burgundy, France. What you see today are the ruins of this once magnificent establishment. After nearly 500 years most of it was deliberately destroyed in 1538 during the Reformation on the orders of Henry VIII.

As the sign goes on to say, it’s difficult now to imagine how grand and imposing the whole site must have been in its heyday – there were approximately 100 monks living and worshipping here in the 12th and 13th centuries, though there were only 24 at the time of its demise – but the frequent signboards around the site do a good job of helping the visitor imagine how the huge buildings once dominated this landscape (like the image below).

As  well as the enormous Priory church and its cloister, and the lodgings, a huge kitchen and the refectory for the monks, there was also a guesthouse, an infirmary and accompanying physic garden (and there’s still a small herb garden to give you an idea of what the monks used for their herbal remedies) and, of course, a reredorter (I love this fancy word for the toilet block), as well as a water mill and brewhouse, granary and bakery, forge and stables.

Though it is certainly difficult to imagine the grandeur, archaeological evidence shows that the church walls were decorated with frescoes, the floors were clad with fine glazed tiles, and the ceiling soared to grand heights under enormous curved stone arches.

Also on the site is a monument, unveiled on the occasion of the 700th anniversary, to commemorate the Battle of Lewes, fought on 14 May 1264. The English barons, led by Simon de Montfort, were fed up with the extravagance and bad governance of King Henry III, and fought to have England ruled by a council rather than the king – very forward-thinking of them! The barons won the battle and forced the king to sign the Mise of Lewes, a treaty restricting his authority, but, as history shows, royal power was later restored.

Designed by Enzo Plazzotta and perfectly sited to view the Lewes Castle tower through the facial slits, the helmet sculpture is a very impressive and very appropriate artwork, and there is something rather haunting about its empty shell. When engineers were building a new railway line through Lewes in 1845 (sadly, right through the northern part of the site!), they uncovered the burials of hundreds who died in the Battle of Lewes, so it’s fitting that those early pioneers of democracy be remembered here for their courage.

There is a mound near the entrance to the park, which, when climbed, provides wonderful views over the Priory ruins, some of Lewes township and across the surrounding countryside. Though we didn’t have time to explore on this occasion, Lewes itself looked old and interesting so that’s on my list for a future visit to East Sussex.

East Sussex: Seven Sisters Country Park

Gigantic chalk cliffs that can crumble and drop in an instant.

The Cuckmere river that snakes and winds and meanders its way to the sea.

Sheep chewing, gulls cawing, waves crashing.

Cliff tops carpeted in a myriad of blooming wildflowers.

Water birds so well camouflaged that you scarcely notice them until they scurry down to the water’s edge to wash the mud from their next mouthful.

Wave-rounded pebbles of flint and chalk and limestone that scrunch with every foot fall.

Huge concrete bollards and hollow pillboxes that remind of war and grief and devastation.

Stunted trees that grow sidewise from the force of the prevailing winds.

A landscape so grand and a sky so wide that you feel humbled by the sheer majesty of the place ... 

This is the Seven Sisters Country Park. This is a little slice of heaven on earth!

To walk the landscapes of the Seven Sisters Country Park as they appeared in August 2014, click here, and to see some of the wildlife we discovered last week, follow this link. 

England: Heavenly history in Alfriston

For a non-religious person I visit a lot of churches. But how could I not visit this one? It was a lovely walk to get there. It sits on an ancient Saxon religious site and has a barrow in the churchyard. The building dates from the 12th century and is a Grade I listed building of national importance, because it’s the only church in the world to have murals by painters from the Bloomsbury set adorning its walls. St Michael and All Angels Church in Berwick is simply gorgeous!  

The barrow in the churchyard

We drove to the little town of Alfriston then walked a footpath, part of the Vanguard Way, to get there – it seemed an appropriate way to reach such an ancient place and it was easy to imagine ancient man walking that same trackway to reach their sacred site on the hilltop.

Inside, the church has some interesting features – the Saxon font may pre-date the church, there are grooves in one wall which are thought to have been made in the 14th century by men sharpening their arrow heads, and the clear glass windows in the north and south aisles are unusual and distinctive. But it’s the 20th-century murals that draw most visitors to this place and they are quite simply outstanding.

Painted during the Second World War by Bloomsbury artists Duncan Grant, Vanessa Bell and her son Quentin Bell, the murals continued, or perhaps revived a long tradition of painted interiors in Sussex churches. Inspired by the frescoes of Renaissance Italy and modelled on the painters themselves, their friends and local people, the murals are a refreshing change from the gloom of many small church interiors. Indeed, one Professor Reilly, who visited soon after the paintings were finished, said he felt like he was: ‘stepping out of a foggy England into Italy. I felt such a happy heavenly feeling as I sat there.’ 

With our spirits thus enlightened with happy and heavenly feelings, we walked back to Alfriston via a rather muddy path through the huge rolling farmlands of the South Downs, and sat down to tea and rather delicious cakes at the Badger Café. Refreshed and replete, we explored the town, coming after a short time to the green and the Church of St Andrew.

This is another ancient church, founded around 1360 and built in a massive cruciform shape on a raised mound on the village green known as the Tye. It made me think that this church also sits on an ancient Saxon site but the church’s construction is a bit of a mystery, as there are no records to explain who commissioned and financed such a grand edifice in such a small village. 

Next to the church sits the Chapel House, the first house ever to be taken under the wing of the National Trust, bought from Michelham Priory for £10 in 1896. The oldest parts were built around 1350 and are typical of a timber-framed ‘Wealden Hall’ house. But, like so many old buildings, this one has evolved over time: there’s a parlour dating from the mid-16th century; a hall, built shortly after the Black Death of 1348 by a yeoman farmer; the corridor was added in the 18th century; and the reading room is part of the original house. I was particularly impressed by the long-wheat-straw-thatched roof, as I suppose I should be given it cost £100,000 to be re-thatched back in 2005, and the gardens, laid out in the 1920s by Sir Robert Witt, were delightful.

A wander along Alfriston’s main street revealed more interesting historic buildings. Wingrove House, according to the plaque on the wall, is ‘a colonial style building from 1870, used as accommodation by trainer Harry Batho, racing manager to Horatio Bottomley’ (an interesting character indeed). The house is now a ‘restaurant and rooms’, and looks like rather a nice spot for a weekend treat.  

Left, Wingrove House; centre, right, the Old Farmhouse; right, the Star Inn

The Old Farmhouse is a 17th-century rebuild of the southern wing of a 14th century hall house, one of the oldest ranges of buildings in the village. The Steamer Inn dates from the 15th century and was an inn during the 19th century, though lost its licence in 1920.

Alfriston still has several characterful public houses to chose from, however. The Star Inn is my favourite, if only for its external decoration. It was rebuilt in the early 16th century, possibly on the site of an earlier rest house for pilgrims on their way to the shrine of St Richard in Chichester. The Red Lion figurehead comes from a warship that probably sank at the Battle of Beachy Head in 1690.

The George Inn also has a long history, having first received its liquor licence in 1397, and the Smugglers Inn was the home of Stanton Collins, leader of the Alfriston gang of smugglers in the early 19th century. It boasts 21 rooms, 48 doors and 6 staircases. Its sign tells: ‘The front bay was successfully restored, revealing its late 16th century origins, after near destruction by a car in 2005.’

Obviously, with a very small village and three pubs serving drinks, drunk-driving destruction could well be a problem. But don’t let that put you off a visit. It’s a charming wee place, with history on display, churches to be admired, Downs to be walked and beer to be drunk!