TO EASTBOURNE AND PEVENSEY
Two miles distant from Lewes on the Eastbourne road is Beddingham,
whose church shows a medley of styles from Norman to Decorated. About
one hundred years ago a discovery was made near the village of a
quantity of human remains together with weapons and accoutrements,
pointing to the probability of a forgotten battle having taken place in
the pass between the hills. A religious house dedicated to St. Andrew
is conjectured to have existed at one time in or near the village.
Monkish records relate that a ship hailing from Dunkirk and having on
board a monk named Balger was driven into Seaford by a storm. This
Balger was of an enterprising turn; making his way inland he helped
himself to the relics of St. Lewinna, a British convert, which reposed
in St. Andrew's Monastery. The adventures that overtook the relics and
their illegal guardian during the journey back to Flanders make up a
medieval romance of much interest and throw a curious light on the
mental attitude of the religious, as regards the rights of property,
during the Dark Ages.
[Illustration: FIRLE BEACON.]
A mile farther along the high road is the turning which leads to Glynde
station and village, for which the most pleasant route is over the
hills. The name is possibly a Celtic survival and describes the
situation between opposing heights. "Glyn" is common throughout the
whole of Wales. The church is in a style quite alien to its
surroundings and might well belong to Clapham or Bloomsbury. It is a
Grecian temple built about 1765 by the then Bishop of Durham, Dr.
Trevor, and here the Bishop was buried. There are few more charming
groups of cottages in Sussex than this beautiful village. Glynde Place,
the seat of a former Speaker of the House of Commons, boasts the
largest dairy in Sussex if not in England; between 700 and 800 pounds
of butter are made here daily. John Ellman, the famous breeder of
Southdown sheep lived here for nearly fifty years (1780-1829.)
A short way farther, on the main road, is a turning to West Firle, on
the east of which is the fine Firle Park belonging to the Gage's, a
very ancient local family whose tombs and brasses may be seen in the
church. The pedestrian is advised to press on to Firle Beacon from
which a descent may be made to Alciston (pronounced "Aston") on the
high road. The heap of flints on the summit of the Beacon is 718 feet
above the sea, and therefore the hill is not so high as it looks, nor
is it, as was formerly supposed to be the case, the second highest
summit of the Downs. The view is superb both northwards to the Weald
and southwards over the Channel. Alciston calls for little comment, the
charm of the place consists in its air of remoteness and peace. The
small church is partly Norman, and in the walls of Court House Farm are
the remains of a religious house. Note the ancient barn and dovecote. A
mile to the north is another little hamlet called "Simson," and spelt
Selmeston. The curious wooden pillars in the church were fortunately
untouched when the building was restored. The old altar slab has five
crosses, and there are one or two interesting brasses.
[Illustration: ALFRISTON CHURCH.]
Berwick is a scattered village on the western slopes of the Cuckmere
valley; the Early English church is embowered in trees on a spur of the
Downs; there is a fine canopied tomb in the chancel, an old screen and
an uncommon type of font built in the wall. Note the eloquent epitaph
to a former rector.
Half a mile farther is a turning on the right that passes Winton
Street, where, a few years ago, there was a rich find of Anglo-Saxon
antiquities. In two miles this byway reaches Alfriston.
("_All_-friston.") The church has a very common legend associated with
it; the foundations are said to have been again and again removed by
supernatural agency from another site to the spot where the solemn and
stately old building now stands. It is a Perpendicular cruciform church
and has an Easter sepulchre and three sedilia. The register is said to
be the oldest in England, its first entry bearing the date of 1512. "A
few years since as many as seventy 'virgins' garlands' hung in
Alfriston Church at once" (Hare). Close by is a delightful
pre-Reformation clergy house. Antiquaries are perhaps as concerned with
the "Star" Inn, one of the most interesting in the south of England and
dating from about 1490. The front of the house is covered with quaint
carvings including St. George and the Dragon, a bear and ragged staff
and what appears to be a lion. On each side of the doorway arc mitred
saints conjectured to represent St. Julian and St. Giles. The inn is
reputed to have been a place of sanctuary under Battle Abbey; it stands
within the abbot's manor of Alciston and was undoubtedly the recognized
hostel for pilgrims and mendicant friars. Another old inn, once a noted
house of call for smugglers, is Market Cross House, opposite all that
remains of the Cross, a mutilated and battered stump, and the only
example, except that at Chichester, in the county.
[Illustration: ALFRISTON.]
Alfriston once had a race week, the course being on the side of Firle
Beacon; in those days the resident population was probably greater than
it is now. Not only were more souls crowded into the old houses still
standing in the village street but tradition tells that the place was
larger and more suited to its spacious old church which is now barely
half filled on an ordinary Sunday.
A footpath may be taken over the Cuckmere and up the hill beyond to the
little dependency of Lullington. The church calls itself the smallest
in Sussex but this depends upon what constitutes a church. The existing
building is actually the chancel of a former church, perhaps another
proof of a dwindling population.
[Illustration: LULLINGTON CHURCH.]
The winding lane on the eastern bank of the Cuckmere is thick with a
glaring white dust on the dry days of summer, but there is no other
practicable route to Litlington; where is a quaint and interesting old
church with arches formed of the native chalk. This village is growing
rather than decaying, and appears to be, in a small way, an asylum for
those who have grown weary of the broader highways. It is in a most
delightful situation and is even within reach of a morning dip in the
sea for those vigorous enough to undertake a three mile walk each way.
"Tea" placards nestling among the roses and ivy on the cottage walls
also testify its attractions to holiday wayfarers, though the way to
Litlington, even for the motor-cyclist, is too strenuous for the
village to become overcrowded or vulgar.
[Illustration: LITLINGTON.]
The Cuckmere now begins to widen its banks and the theory that the
waters once extended from side to side of the valley seems tenable as
we view the wide expanse of sedgy swamp through which the present
channel has been artificially cut. Cuckmere Haven is the name given to
the bay between the last of the "Seven Sisters" and the eastern slopes
of Seaford Head which should be ascended for the sake of the lovely
view up the valley, seen at its best from this end.
"The only light that suits the tranquillity and tender pathos of the
region is that which fills the dimples of the Downs with inexpressibly
soft and dreamy expressions, and quickens the plain by revealing the
individuality of every blade of grass and plough-turned clod by its own
shadow."
(Coventry Patmore.)
Nearly all the villages of the Cuckmere are in sight and make together
perhaps the most likely to be remembered of Sussex pictures. It is
surprising how little this tranquil vale is known except to the chance
visitor from Seaford. When one remembers the much exploited and spoilt
beauty spots of Dorset and Devon one feels nervous for the future of
these lesser known but equally charming sea-combes of Sussex.
A short distance from the haven a steep gulley leads to the beach with
a convenient chain and rope to prevent too sudden a descent. It has
been suggested that through this gap the Romans passed from their
moored fleets to the fortified settlements above. It was at one time
possible to descend by another opening higher up the cliff to a ledge
called "Puck Church Parlour." This is now inaccessible except to
seabirds. The well-known view of the "Seven Sisters" is taken
hereabouts and the disused "Belle Tout" lighthouse stands up well on
the western slopes of Beachy Head, looking no distance across the
Cuckmere bay.
On the way from Litlington a slight divergence of half a mile or so
might have been made to West Dean; this is a most sequestered little
hamlet, famous only as the meeting place between the great Alfred and
Asser, though some authorities claim the West Dean between Midhurst and
Chichester as the authentic spot. There is a Norman arch in the
tower of the church and also several canopied tombs and some good
stained glass. Here is another priest's house even older than the one
we have seen at Alfriston. George Gissing well describes the village
and the surrounding country in his novel _Thyrza_.
[Illustration: WEST DEAN.]
A Downland road can be taken from here to Friston, Eastdean and
Eastbourne, saving some miles of up and down walking, but the most
enjoyable though more strenuous route is by the cliff path from
Cuckmere Haven over the "Seven Sisters" cliffs to Beachy Head; a
glorious six miles with the sea on one side and the Downs on the other,
culminating in the finest headland on the south coast, 575 feet high,
the magnificent end of the Downs in the sea. All these cliffs provide
nesting-places for wild birds.
"I was much struck by the watchful jealousy with which the peregrines
seemed to guard the particular cliff--more than 500 feet from the
sea--on a lofty ledge of which their nest was situated, and which,
indeed, they evidently considered their especial property; with the
exception of a few jackdaws who bustled out of the crevices below, all
the other birds which had now assembled on this part of the coast for
the breeding season--it being about the middle of May--seemed to
respect the territory of their warlike neighbours. The adjoining
precipice, farther westward, was occupied by guillemots and razorbills,
who had deposited their eggs, the former on the naked ledge, the latter
in the crevices in the face of the cliff Here the jackdaws appeared
quite at their ease, their loud, merry note being heard above every
other sound, as they flew in and out of the fissures in the white rock
or sate perched on a pinnacle near the summit, and leisurely surveyed
the busy crowd below."
(A.E. Knox.)
At Birling Gap, just short of the Head, is a coast-guard station and
the point of departure for the cable to France where we may descend to
the coast by an opening which was once fortified. In history Beachy
Head (possibly "Beau Chef") is chiefly remembered for the battle
between the combined English and Dutch fleets and the French, in which
the English admiral did not show to the best advantage.
[Illustration: EAST DEAN.]
Before the erection of the Belle Tout Light wrecks off the Head were of
frequent occurrence and many are the tales of gallant fight and
hopeless loss told by the coast dwellers here. "Parson Darby's Hole"
under the Belle Tout is said to have been made by the vicar of East
Dean (1680) as a refuge for castaways. We can but hope that his
parishioners were as humane, but the probability is that the parson's
efforts were looked on askance by his flock, who gained a prosperous
livelihood by the spoils of the shore; and perhaps this feeling gave
rise to the unkind fable that the cave was made as a refuge from Mrs.
Darby's tongue.
"Sussex men that dwell upon the shore
Look out when storms arise and billows roar;
Devoutly praying with uplifted hands
That some well-laden ship may strike the sands.
To whose rich cargo they may make pretence."
(Congreve.)
The fine carriage-road which leaves Beachy Head leads directly into
Eastbourne and is called the Duke's Drive. It was owing to the
initiative of the grandfather of the present Duke of Devonshire, whose
local seat is at Compton Place on the west of the town that the little
hamlet of Sea Houses became the present beautiful and fashionable
resort, with a sea-front of nearly three miles of gardens backed by
hotels, boarding-houses and schools. As at Folkestone, education is
here a strong feature, and a few years ago demure files of young ladies
with attendant dragon taking the air between breakfast and study might
have been seen. The epoch-ending events of the last few years, however,
appear to have killed the "caterpillar."
Eastbourne seems to have carefully pushed its workers, together with
the gasworks, market gardens, and other utilitarian features round the
screen of Splash Point. The boulevards going west and north are full of
fine houses and brilliant shops and are lined with well grown trees.
The continuation of Terminus Road will take us in a little over a mile
to the old town; here is the parish church, mostly Transitional, and
with many interesting features which should on no account be missed.
Note the oak screen in the chancel; sedilia and piscina; also an Easter
sepulchre. There is some old Flemish glass in the east window of the
nave aisle; that of the chancel is modern but good. Near the church is
a farmhouse, once a priory of Black Friars. The ancient "Lamb Inn" has
an Early English crypt which may be seen on application.
[Illustration: BEACHY HEAD.]
The most popular excursion from Eastbourne after "The Head" is to
Willingdon, near which is Hampden Park and Wannock Glen, and, farther
afield, Jevington. Willingdon has an interesting old church and is
pleasantly situated, but the village is too obviously the "place to
spend a happy day" to call for further comment. On the other hand,
Jevington with its ancient but over-restored church, is quite unspoilt
and, lying in one of the most beautiful of the Down combes, should
certainly be visited.
We are now at the end of the Downs and the scenery eastwards takes on
an entirely different character:--
"The great and fertile plain stretching along the Sussex coast from the
eastward of Beachy Head in the direction of Hastings, and inland
towards Wartling, Hurstmonceux and Hailsham, now studded with fat
beeves, was at some remote era, covered by the sea, and what are known
as 'eyes,' or elevations above the surrounding level--such as Chilleye,
Northeye, Horseye, Richeye, &c.--must have been islands, forming a
miniature archipelago. As all these are of Saxon meaning, it may be
presumed that, at the time of the Saxon colonization, they were
frequently or constantly insulated."
[Illustration: OLD PARSONAGE, EASTBOURNE.]
(Lower.)
Five miles from Eastbourne across the dreary flats of Pevensey Level
lies all that remains of the city of Anderida, the headquarters of the
Roman "Count of the Saxon Shore" and one of the last strongholds of
Rome in Britain. The melancholy tale of the overthrow of ancient
civilization in this corner of England by the barbarous Saxon invaders
is summed up in the terse words of their own chronicle--"They slew all
that dwelt therein, nor was there henceforth one Briton left." The name
"Andredes Weald" is derived from the British--An tred--"No houses," and
it correctly described the surrounding country at the time of the Roman
occupation. The great Weald or forest actually extended from the coast
to the Thames valley, broken only by the "Old Road" along the side of
the North Downs, traversed by far-off ancestors of ours whose feelings
as they gazed fearfully down into the depths of the primeval wood must
have been on a plane with those of the earliest African explorers in
the land of Pygmies. Here were the very real beginnings of those
countless tales of Gnome and Fairy--ferocious tribe and gentle
tribe--with which our folk-lore abounds.
[Illustration: JEVINGTON.]
As to the existence of a British town here before the coming of the
Romans nothing is known, but that Pevensey Bay witnessed the landing of
Julius Caesar is tolerably certain, and here the custodians of Britain
erected a great stronghold of whose walls we shall see the remnants as
we first enter the castle. In 490 Ella besieged the city and, as quoted
above, put it to fire and sword in effectual fashion; from this period
therefore must be dated the foundations of the South Saxon kingdom.
After upwards of five hundred years another conqueror appeared on the
old Roman wall. On the twenty-eighth September 1066 William I landed,
stumbled and fell, and "clutched England with both hands." Pevensey
(Peofn's Island) was given to Robert of Mortain, and he it was who
built the massive castle of the "Eagle" which we see rising inside the
Roman wall. This name arose from the title "Honour of the Eagle" which
was given to de Aquila, holder of the fortress under Henry I. After
many changes of owners who included Edward I, Edward III and John of
Gaunt, and after being besieged by Stephen against Matilda, by the
Barons against Henry III, and by Richard II against Bolingbroke it fell
on evil times and was actually sold for forty pounds by the
Parliamentary commissioners as building material. The keep is in ruins
and the chapel can only be traced in the grassy floor; here may still
be seen the old font covered by an iron frame, and the opening of the
castle well, in which, as related by Hare, skulls of the wolves which
once roamed the great forest have been found.
In connexion with the Norman occupation of Sussex the curious and
arbitrary system of "Rapes" by which the county is divided should be
noticed. These six blocks of land have no apparent relation to the
natural features of the country; each contains a powerful castle to
overawe the division to which it belongs. The whole plan is eloquent of
the method by which the Norman ruled the conquered race and kept them
in subjection.
[Illustration: PEVENSEY.]
Pevensey shore is very trying for the pedestrian. The great expanse of
shingle is of that drifting variety which makes walking almost an
impossibility.
Pevensey church is to the east of the castle; the interior is graceful
and it has some interesting details. Note the case of local
curiosities, title deeds, etc. Westham, that part of the village
nearest the station, was the overflow settlement from the walled town;
this has a much finer church with Norman remains dating from the
Conqueror's time, and the tower is noble in its massive proportions.
Visitors should purchase the interesting little booklet shown on the
table within the porch. The church has a fine oak screen in the south
chancel and a stone altar with five crosses in the north aisle. Not far
away is a large farmhouse known as "Priest-house"; this was once a
monastic establishment.
[Illustration: WESTHAM.]
Close to Westham is Pevensey Station, from which the traveller can
proceed to Hastings, Rye and Winchelsea; this beautiful and interesting
district of Sussex is dealt with in Mr. Bradley's _An Old Gate of
England_, and we must regretfully turn westwards. The return journey to
Lewes may be made by the railway, though the Downs, for the unfatigued
traveller, should prove the most alluring route. After passing Polegate
a good view may be had on the left of the "Long Man of Wilmington" a
figure 230 feet in length with a staff in each hand cut in the
escarpment of Windover Hill; this is the only prehistoric figure on the
Sussex Downs. Its origin has never been satisfactorily explained. Lower
has suggested that it was the work of an idle monk of Wilmington. This
is most unlikely. The theory has lately been put forward that the
"staff" which the figure appears to be holding in each hand is really
the outline of a door and that the effigy is that of Balder pushing
back the gates of night. Wilmington village has an interesting Norman
Church with a very fine yew in the churchyard. Built into the walls of
a farmhouse close by are some remains of a Benedictine priory.
Beautiful walks into the nearer woodlands of the Weald are easily taken
from this pleasant village and the hill rambles toward Jevington are
delightful.
Before leaving this district mention must be made of Hurstmonceux. The
nearest station is Pevensey, from which there is a rather dull walk of
four miles across the Pevensey Levels. The more picturesque route is
from Hailsham, though this is longer and belongs more to a tour of the
Weald. The only village passed on the way from Pevensey is Wartling,
beyond which a footpath can be taken across the meadows with a fine
view of the ruins ahead. The present castle was built by Sir Roger de
Fiennes in the reign of Henry VI. The name is taken from the first Lord
of the Manor, Waleran de Monceux.
[Illustration: WILMINGTON GREEN.]
The outer shell is all that remains of what was once one of the
grandest fortified mansions in England; it is now but a subject for
artists and photographers, though at one time, since its dismantling,
it made a good secret wine and spirit vaults. The colour of the walls
is a surprise until it is realized that the building is of brick. The
southern entrance, by which we approach, is the most imposing part of
the ruin. We enter by a wooden bridge across the moat; this replaces
the drawbridge. In the recessed chamber behind the central arch a
ghostly drum was sometimes heard, and the supernatural drummer was
supposed to guard hidden treasure. This legend was made good use of by
the smuggling fraternity, the thumping of an empty keg being sufficient
to scare away inconvenient visitors. Within the walls we are in a
wilderness of broken brickwork covered with an enormous growth of ivy.
Notice the great oven, and the ruins of the private chapel on the north
side. The circuit of the walls should be made as far as is practicable;
the magnificent row of Spanish chestnuts is much admired.
The story of the demolition of Hurstmonceux is unhappy reading; the act
of vandalism for which the architect Wyatt was officially responsible
seems to have been prompted by family spite.
The church is of great interest. The Dacre chantry and the splendid
tomb of Thomas Fiennes, Lord Dacre, must be noticed; also a brass of
Sir William Fiennes, 1405. The association of the place with the Hares,
who are buried under the yew in the churchyard, although of recent date
is nevertheless of much interest. The property and the living, which
passed in 1855, came to the family through George Naylor of Lincoln's
Inn, who bought them in 1708.
Near the church stands a fine fourteenth-century barn. The village is
remarkable for a local industry--the making of "trug" baskets for the
carriage of fruit.