By Paul Draper

Did you know that we in Fairlight used to have a garage and petrol filling station? Located on the west side of the junction between Battery Hill and Waites Lane, the garage had existed from the earliest development of Fairlight Cove, in 1923 until its demolition in 2004. Now there are no clues as to its existence and four new properties stand on the old site, two in Waites Lane and two in Battery Hill.

The garage was a ‘proper’ garage offering repair shops, storage facilities, petrol pumps and local buses were also stored there. Indeed most of these facilities survived until 2000 when the final owners, Pat and Sue Trueman, were forced to sell up. Pat and Sue were popular local characters and are still in contact with many people from our village. They have kindly supplied me with copies of some early black and white and later colour photographs and some paperwork showing how different matters were in the early years. Additionally, a former local researcher, Jeanne Whiting, delved into the timeline of the many different owners and her work has proved invaluable.

An early view outside the repair shop. Note the old Tilling Stevens bus/charabanc.

After the 1917 auction of the Waites Farm Estate there were many owners of the lands now known as Fairlight Cove and finally in 1923, Mr Philp, a familiar name to many of us, sold the plot to the business of D.M.S. Ltd. Clearly they built the garage and started the business but in 1925 they sold on the business to a Mr. Biden. Over the pre-war years the ownership changed many times but from 1927 a Mr W.C. Davis took over and was a familiar name until 1938 when Mr. Archibald Lea took over. Mr. Lea was obviously very much a local character and as well as being the first owner of our Post Office and General Stores, he was also a local Preacher, practicing from a small Chapel in Chapel Lane, Guestling. The latter building is still there but has long been a private dwelling.

Another early view. To think that we complain about our road surfaces!

In 1953 a Mr. Lavender owned the business for a few years. He made one significant contribution to our local history. He gave a small portion of his land for the bus shelter to be built. If you look now you can still see the indentation on the western boundary into which the shelter was fitted and has remained ever since.

In 1958, a Mr. E. Gamet, known as ‘Gam’, took over and eventually passed it to his brother-in-law, Pat Trueman, so they were the last family to operate the facility.

Pat and Sue Trueman the last owners of Fairlight Garage.

We do not have details of when the garage was modernised but in its latter days, under the brand names of Jet and finally Murco, it looked like so many of those small local petrol stations that were so familiar to us all. They have all gone and now we have to use the much larger, faceless filling stations attached to Tesco, Sainsbury’s, BP and others.

A Bullnose Morris being refilled at Fairlight Garage. (Photo Keith Miller)

Sadly it came to an end in 2004 when the bulldozers moved in. Some local residents opposed the proposal for new houses but without success and the result of this was a small, four house development completed by Gem Select.

We have a small collection of photographs, old and new that we would be happy to show you. However, if any of you have any photographs or information, please let us know.

By Paul Draper.

By Haydon Luke

I am writing this in January 2016 close to the date, 75 years ago, when the famous flyer disappeared on a wartime flight over the Thames Estuary. Amy Johnson was a superstar in her own time, celebrated for a series of courageous and record-breaking long distance flights in the 1930s.

She was born on 1 July 1903, in Hull, where she lived until, in 1923, she went to Sheffield University and gained a BA in Economics. After graduation, she moved to London, working as a secretary to a solicitor, and became interested in flying which she followed up at the London Aeroplane Club in the winter of 1928-29. What had begun as a recreation soon became an all-consuming determination to prove that women could be as competent as men in a hitherto male-dominated field.

Her first important achievement, after flying solo, was to qualify as the first British-trained woman ground engineer, the only woman in the world to do so at that time.

Early in 1930, she set her first objective – to fly solo to Australia and to beat the existing record of 16 days. She had problems financing her planned journey but eventually her family and supporters raised the £600 purchase price of a used plane, a De Havilland Gypsy Moth (G-AAAH), which was named “Jason” after the family business trademark.

Amy Johnson and Jason in Jhansi, India in 1932.

Amy set off alone from Croydon on 5 May 1930, and landed in Darwin on 24 May, a flight distance of 11,000 miles. She was the first woman to fly alone to Australia, and came home to the UK to a hero’s welcome which culminated in her award of a C.B.E.

The Fairlight connection came a year later in May 1931 when, as a famous and unexpected visitor, Amy Johnson almost literally ‘dropped in’ to the Fairlight Cove Hotel for tea. According to the Hastings Observer of 30 May, the celebrated flyer was taking a Whitsun ‘flip’ in her Puss Moth aeroplane Jason II over Kent and Sussex.  So attracted was she by the evident beauty of the countryside that she decided to land. 
The field she landed in was owned by Flying Officer Tindall, late of the RAF, who told the newspaper:

“Miss Johnson made a perfect landing. She arrived here shortly after 5 p.m. Unfortunately, there were not many people about at the time, though if I had known she was coming I would have had a good crowd to welcome her.

She strolled down to the Fairlight Bungalow Hotel for tea and then wandered about the lanes picking bluebells. She told me she was delighted with Hastings and will probably come again.”

And she did. Partly as a consequence of pioneering flights by Amy Johnson and others, the 1930s was a time when aviation captured the popular imagination. The aviators were as famous then as footballers, pop performers or film stars today. The day she returned and landed her biplane in the field behind Church Farm led to an exciting period when Fairlight hosted air displays and flying circuses, much to the delight of many (but not all) members of the public.

Alan Shearer, whose family it was that farmed Church Farm in those days and lived in Church Farm Cottage, tells that bit of the Amy Johnson story.

“She came into the cottage with her boyfriend (later her husband) Jim Mollison and conferred at some length with father.  Obviously the meeting had been pre-arranged and for the next two or three years, in conjunction with Sir Alan Cobham, and a variety of aircraft and pilots, Fairlight was treated to an air display, stunt flying and personal flights around the locality at 5/- each.”  (Shearer, Alan, One Hundred Years in Fairlight, published originally in the Parish magazine.)
These events did much to popularise flying and to bring home to the public the way in which aircraft were developing.  Sensing an opportunity for itself, the Hastings Observer was quick to give these events some free publicity and offered 20 free flights to lucky readers – not in Amy Johnson’s plane but in a Handley Page ‘Clive’ air liner when Cobham’s ‘National Aviation Days’ first came to Church Farm on 20 and 21 August 1934.  Other flying displays followed later in the 30s.
But all too soon the peacetime skies were replaced by the formidable realities of World War 2, with Fairlight prominent.  The radar station RAF Fairlight played a crucial role in the Battle of Britain and again in 1944 when south east England suffered the V1 flying bomb onslaught.
By that time, sadly, Amy Johnson herself had become a casualty of the war.  She had joined the Air Transport Auxiliary (ATA) when the war began.  Nominally a civilian organisation, the ATA’s pilots’ main role was to deliver aircraft from the factories to the operational RAF stations as well as ferrying stores and personnel.  For this work the ATA needed experienced flyers and so recruited pilots who were unsuitable for the services by reason of age or fitness. They were sometimes humorously referred to as “Ancient and Tattered Airmen”.  The ATA also took pilots from neutral countries and, notably, women; one in eight of all ATA pilots, 166 in all, were women.
Amy’s last flight has become surrounded by an aura of mystery and suspicion, especially as to the purpose of her flight and what caused its tragic end.  Was she on some sort of secret mission?  Was there a mysterious second person on her aircraft?  Was her aircraft the victim of a calamitous ‘friendly fire’ incident?
What certainly is known is that it was whilst flying a mission for the ATA, on 5 January 1941, that Amy crashed into the Thames Estuary.  Despite the efforts of the crew of convoy escort trawler HMS Haslemere who had spotted Johnson’s parachute coming down and saw her alive in the water, calling for help, rescue proved impossible.  Conditions were poor – there was a heavy sea and a strong tide, snow was falling and it was intensely cold.  Lt Cdr Walter Fletcher, the 34 year old commander of Haslemere, bravely dived into the water in a rescue attempt.  Tragically, he failed and later died in hospital. According to The Times account, Amy disappeared beneath the water before further rescue attempts could be made.  Her body was never recovered.  A Memorial Service for her was held on 14 January 1941 at the church of St Martin in the Fields in London. 
In her obituary in The Times on Wednesday 8 January 1941, her commanding officer in the ATA said of her: “In her private life [she] was unassuming and entirely lacking in conceit. It is inevitable that the name of someone as famous as she was should be coupled with many extravagant stories. Those who knew [her] intimately saw her as an ordinary human being, keen on her job, brilliantly successful but always accessible….Those that knew her have lost the type of friend who cannot be replaced.”

By Haydon Luke

By Haydon Luke

Quarrying is an activity which has a long history in Fairlight. Sandstone quarries can be seen either side of the road leading up from Ore, and St Andrew’s Church itself was constructed from locally quarried stone. Farmers, too, have made extensive use of local stone to construct farm buildings throughout the district. Small quarries or stone pits are a common feature of the local landscape.

In the 1920s a particularly fine kind of sand was identified in the local rock not far from the Church, and later the exigencies of wartime led to it being exploited extensively by a mining company. Fifty years later, in the 1980s, the local residents were shocked to discover that a major oil company was proposing to do test drilling in the Fairlight area. In the event, both activities were short lived. However, both have left their mark on the landscape and are reminders of how easily the rural tranquillity of Fairlight could be compromised.

So where were these sites and how did it all come about? Few of those who use the Country Park car park off Lower Coastguard Lane, adjacent to the public toilets and across from the Coastguard Tea Room, are aware that they are standing on a former industrial site.

The picture below shows the extent of the site in 1965. Coastguard Lane is at the right with the corner of St Andrew’s Churchyard in the top right hand corner. The area where the main processing buildings can be seen is now the large car park by the public toilets. The main quarry is at the bottom of the picture and covered a large area which is now heavily overgrown. A second large area was opened up further to the south west of the main site towards Warren Cottage. Material was conveyed to the processing area near the church by small trucks on rails approximately half a metre in gauge pulled along by a constantly running overhead drag a bit like a ski button lift.

The sand quarry story seems to begin in the 1920s. In the period after the First World War, Hastings, in common with many big towns, had a problem finding work for the unemployed. There was a discussion in the local Employment Committee and the suggestion was made that because there was known to be a high quality source of white sand in the Fairlight quarries (the sandstone from which had previously been used for building) perhaps a glass-making industry could be established locally to produce glass for the optical industries. However, it was pointed out that, as well as a highly skilled work-force, glass making required large quantities of coal to fire the furnaces. Bringing in coal and training up the work force would be costly, so starting a Hastings glass industry from scratch was declared a non-runner. An alternative, however, might be to exploit the sand to supply the already established British glass manufacturers. The reserves of suitable sand in the Fairlight quarries were estimated at 15 million tons. (Source; HSLO, 11 September 1920).

Some time later, a small operation was set up in the quarry near Fairlight Church.  This picture, from the British Geological Survey and taken on 1 May 1926, shows the quarry in operation, with St Andrew’s Church unmistakably in the background.  The quarry was producing ‘glass-sand’ which at the time was used in making scouring-soap, and clay for bricks.   This is almost the same view as on page 5.  The Kelly’s Street Directory for 1928 has an entry listing British Sands Ltd., with a business address of Sandworks, Church Farm, Fairlight.

The quarry was still running in 1928 when the same newspaper carried the story of a “Quarry Worker’s Marvellous Escape.” The gist was that quarry worker, James Brann, had had a lucky escape from being killed by a falling boulder as he lay helpless beneath a mass of earth and rock which had subsided on him whilst he was working in the quarry. (HSLO, 21 April 1928). He suffered a broken leg and head wounds. Not much concern for Health and Safety at work in those days.

According to documents in the East Sussex Archives (SWA20/1/47 Fairlight Sand Quarry Project) the sand quarry story seems to gain momentum in 1933 when a local businessman, Captain R E Philp (who also had business interests in the housing developments in Fairlight Cove) sees a potentially money-making opportunity in the sand to be found in the ground to the south west of St Andrew’s Church. Up to this point 95% of the sand used in glass manufacture in the UK had been imported from Belgium. The Fairlight sand is suitable and of excellent quality and Captain Philp reasons that if he can extract it and transport it sufficiently cheaply then the domestic glass industry will be interested in obtaining it from him rather than from Belgium.

However, the Belgian sand industry enjoys subsidies and so to be viable the Fairlight sand will have to be extracted and transported as cheaply as possible. To this end Captain Philp conceives a cunning plan. On 1 March 1933 he writes to the Rother and Jury’s Gut Catchment Board (R&JGCB) with his proposal to send sand from the quarry he intends to open up at Fairlight out by sea from Rye Harbour. To keep costs down he proposes to transport the sand from Fairlight to the harbour “by means of an aerial ropeway, the establishment of a loading station, and the conveyance thence to destination by means of barges of not more than 500 tons capacity.” (Letter to R&JGCB from Capt. Robert E Philp, 01 March 1933).

Just think how the Fairlight landscape would have been affected had such a proposal materialised! The aerial ropeway, once constructed, would have low running costs and could operate if necessary around the clock. It would run from the quarry, roughly along the line of Warren Road, across the land Philp owns in Fairlight Cove and then down to Pett Level and across the Marsh. The plan of Rye Harbour he sends with his letters shows the ropeway line approaching to the south of Martello Tower No 28 (the one at the entrance to the holiday village by the access to what is now Rye Harbour Nature Reserve) and reaching a discharging bay into sand bins on the harbour side due east of the Martello tower. He estimates that the volume of sand to be exported would exceed 100,000 tonnes p.a.

In order to make his scheme viable Captain Philp needs to get the freight costs as low as possible and to that end he seeks to secure special low rates from the harbour board. Both the R&JGCB and the Harbour Committee are less than impressed with this and refuse to do a deal, despite the efforts of Captain Philp to persuade them that his scheme is in the national interest. Negotiations drag on and no progress is made. Finally, he has to admit that the scheme has faltered “owing to certain provisions in the Hastings Town planning Scheme, which materially affect the land under which this mineral lies.” (Explained by Philp in letter to R&JGCB June 24 1933). Also, by this time the Fire Hills have become a public amenity and the prospect of large scale mineral extraction with aerial ropeways is not likely to come about.

In the event, a much more limited level of quarrying takes place until the onset of war and then the loss of supplies from Belgium puts the sand extraction project into a different context.

Triumphantly announcing the launch of the later scheme put forward by a new company, the Fairlight Mining Company, in January 1939, The Hastings Observer emphasised the positive impact on employment – “Local Labour will be employed in the quarrying work and local men are to be trained for the working of the refining plant to be established at Doleham” – whilst playing down the environmental impact – “Practically nothing of the working will be visible from the cliff paths and no permanent buildings whatever are to be put up to mar the landscape, nor will any unsightly machinery be seen.” (HSLO, 14 January 1939).   The reality was a bit different – though far less damaging to the environment than Philp’s original scheme would have been.

So it was that later in 1939 some of the ground to the south west of St Andrew’s Church was leased out by the then landowner Major Carlisle-Sayer to the Fairlight Mining Company to be opened up for quarrying, and the crushing and refining plant was housed in buildings adjacent to Church Farm House. The sand rock extracted from the quarries in the area, when crushed and refined, provided a silica with a low iron content – the lowest in England according to Fairlight; Echoes of the Past. This made it suitable for the manufacture of very high quality glassware.

Thus, when imports from Belgium became impossible after the outbreak of war in 1939, the strategic importance of the Fairlight quarry rocketed. In the national emergency it was understandable that Hastings BC would approve giving the FMC limited rights to extract the sand, and the company and the landowner undertook to make the land into a public amenity afterwards. It is said that the glass made from the Fairlight sand was required for high quality optical items such as submarine periscopes, gun sights and binoculars as well as more general glass products.

Whatever the truth of that belief, at their peak the works employed over eighty men and six glass firms were supplied. A steady stream of lorries was needed to transport the sand to the railway sidings at Ore and this put pressure on what was then the only access – the narrow lane that runs between the churchyard and Church Farm House and out onto the Fairlight Road by the old school.

Controversy continued to haunt the sand quarry, however. It quickly became clear that better access was required for the succession of vehicles that were required to transport the sand. The Fairlight Mining Company consequently negotiated with the Hastings Council and the Church to create a new access – the road that later became Lower Coastguard Lane. Glebe Land was purchased from the Church in 1940 for £50 to improve the entrance from the Fairlight Road, and land from Church Farm was requisitioned to provide the road. The large area adjacent to the public toilets now used as car parking was the site of the processing plant.

In the 1950s the noise from the processing plant was so bad that it was disturbing lessons at the Village School only a short distance away. The Headteacher reported to the Managers (4 October 1950) “that the noise from the works at the Sand Pit was so great that it disturbed the school work”. The Managers wrote to Mr Hooley, Chairman of Cookes Sand Pit Quarries Ltd., about the noise but received no reply. Nine months later, in July 1951, the Managers wrote to the Chief Education Officer asking advice about the noise of blasting from the Sand Pit Quarry.

In the event, the quarry did not prove to have a very long life once the war was over. Various operating companies came and went, and people recall that by the 1960s the site was derelict and abandoned. This photograph, from the Fairlight archive, shows the buildings in course of demolition in the 1960s.

In 1963 the land held by the Fairlight Sand Quarry Company was registered to Hastings Corporation (later becoming part of the Country Park) and on 5 July 1966 the Fairlight Sand and Development Company Limited was finally struck off the register at Companies House having been wound up some time before.  The last entry for a quarry company at Fairlight in the street directory is in 1960/61.

The picture at left was taken in January 1967 by the IGS (now British Geological Survey) and shows the side of the old sand quarry and the depth of the ground excavated by the sand extraction. This view is looking NE at the basal Wadhurst Clay sandstone seen behind the human figure. The upper grassy slope is in shales and siltstones, and grass and shrubs have already reclaimed more than a foothold.  The area is now (2014) very heavily overgrown with vegetation and it is hard to grasp the full extent of the quarry workings.  Compare this picture with the one from 1926 earlier in this article.

This map from 1970 shows the extent of the sand workings at the end of their active life.

Drawing in papers at The Keep, ESRO DH/B 83/785/2/1-4 File 1 – Fairlight Place Farm including Fairlight Sand Quarry

The quarry area did not entirely drop from public view after sand working ceased. In the summer of 1969 Fairlight residents in Coastguard Lane and vicinity were shocked to find they were about to endure 10 weeks of round-the-clock drilling close to the Church, Church Farm House and the tea rooms. The Institute of Geological Science (IGS) which had been carrying out surveys in the district between Bexhill and Rye for some 4 years was about to mount an investigation into the rock formation between Cliff End and Hastings.

Although the purpose was chiefly to explore the exact nature of the strata beneath the sandstone, there was even the possibility that the boring might discover oil or natural gas. Had that been the case, Fairlight’s story might have been very different. With fracking moving up the national agenda who knows what might happen in the future?

Back in 1969 residents were naturally concerned about noise, vibration and the possibility of mishaps. A public meeting was hastily convened at the Church Café. At the meeting on 30 July Dr Shephard-Thorn, representing the IGS, was on the spot to explain the way the investigation would work. Ever vigilant, the Fairlight Residents’ Association took up the fight and wrote to the various authorities concerned. Their efforts bore some fruit and the IGS contractors were limited to 12 hour days and no Sunday working.

And finally a twist of fate caused them to be grateful that the IGS was working in the quarry. The residents of Coastguard Lane had campaigned for the demolition of the dilapidated quarry buildings during the 60s without success until winter storms in November 1969 caused severe damage and put the instruments of the IGS at risk. Because of the general damage to property and the danger to the Geological Survey, the owners of the quarry were forced into acting.

The Hastings Observer of 15 November 1969 reported houses “showered with debris” and said that “the Church Café and bungalow next door were worst affected by the collapsing roof. Pieces of timber and asbestos were flung into the café’s garden, narrowly missing customers who were outside.”

Debris, some including pieces of timber up to 15 feet long, were deposited on other properties including Church Farm House and into the churchyard itself.

The buildings were eventually demolished by Cole and Jennings & Co., Ltd., of Camber, the company who leased the quarry from Hastings Corporation after the Fairlight Sand Quarries Company ceased operations. Finally the site was cleared and the area became a car park for the Country Park when that was created by Hastings in 1970. So, with the exception of an on-going dispute (which still continues) about responsibility for the poor state of Coastguard Lane, the outcome was satisfactory for all.

The drilling by the IGS continued into the spring of 1970. The borehole was more than a mile deep, almost 1,800 metres from the surface, but the results yielded few surprises. The subsequent report mentioned slight traces of natural gas but not to the extent that would merit exploitation. Residents could rest easy again – until the American oil men arrived in the 1980s!

By Haydon Luke

By Paul Draper

Have you ever taken the time to walk around the old graveyard at St. Andrew’s? It is overgrown in places and very uneven, so you have to be very careful. However, it is well worth the visit as we have more than our fair share of celebrities and other important people. A majority of these people did not actually live in Fairlight so why are they buried at here you might ask? St. Andrew’s Church had been rebuilt in 1845/6 and with the arrival of the railways, it became fashionable for people from London to visit Hastings and St. Leonards to take in the fresh sea air and then visit the Firehills and the glens and walk up to visit our church. It seems that many of them liked the setting so much that they asked to be buried here.

The ’celebrities and worthies’ (people worthy of a mention) seem to have mostly appeared in the second half of the 19^th century following the building of the new church and all under the stewardship of the Reverend Henry Stent. Henry Stent, Fairlight Rector from 1858 to 1903, despite his different surname, was the brother of William Drew Lucas-Shadwell (1817-1875) and uncle to William Peter Lucas-Shadwell (1852-1915). If you refer back to my earlier articles on the Lucas-Shadwells, published in Fairlight News between March 2016 and June 2017, you will understand the importance and influence of the family on our village.

Although the graveyard is uneven and somewhat overgrown in places it has been much worse. By 1994 certain parts were covered in brambles and weeds to a depth of five feet and more and hence nobody could fight their way through, particularly in the lower area to the east of the church. Frustrated by the worsening situation, a small group of volunteers set out to clear the area. After an organised few days of ‘slashing and burning’ they began to see the light. They then started to read some of the gravestones and tombs and realised that we had some important names buried here. As a result and after some research, a brochure was put together in 1995 and that has been available inside the church ever since.

Over the recent years, we have been continuing to read more gravestones and pages from the Fairlight registers and conduct more research. As a result we have discovered more interesting names and stories and, in 2018, decided to put together a simplified and modified short brochure to assist visitors. Below is an extract from the brochure:-

What connects President Franklin D Roosevelt,

Cecil Rhodes, T. S. Eliot, Richard d’Oyly Carte

and William the Conqueror?

Answer: The churchyard of St Andrew’s

in Fairlight, East Sussex!

The following are listed in an order that permits visitors to see each grave in order, in an approximate anti-clockwise direction:-

1 Richard d’Oyly Carte and his parents. Richard founded the eponymous d’Oyly Carte Opera Company and the Savoy Hotel.

2 The earliest legible gravestone dated 1740, in the name of John Gorham.

3 Thomas Farncomb & family. Thomas was Alderman of the City of London for many years and the Lord Mayor in 1849-1850. He assisted Prince Albert in his early preparations for the Great Exhibition of 1851. In August 2020, Hastings Museum and Art Gallery acquired the silver trowel with which Thomas, on 28^th October 1850, inserted the closing bricks in two of the local tunnels of the Ashford, Rye and Hastings Railway.

4 Thomas Attwood Walmisley M.A., Mus.Doc. was a Professor of Music at Cambridge, a musical prodigy and master player of church organs. He composed church music and madrigals.

5 The Lucas-Shadwells of Fairlight Hall. They are remembered in the stained-glass windows’ in the Lych Gate and on many of the gravestones. Many other members of the family are to be found here plus three more in the Catholic section next door. William Lucas-Shadwell was MP for Hastings 1895-1902.

6 Sir Woodbine Parish KCH. British Diplomat. Best known for his work following the defeat of Napoleon and in Buenos Aires recognising Argentina as a state in the 1820s. He was buried at Fairlight in 1882 together with several members of his family.

7 Joanna Burdett third daughter of Sir Francis Burdett MP for Westminster for 30 years. Connected to the Coutts banking family.

8 General Sir Charles Menzies, aide-de camp to Queen Victoria and founder of Newcastle, NSW, Australia.

9 William, the 8^th Earl Waldegrave, a direct descendant of William the Conqueror via Henrietta FitzJames, the illegitimate daughter of King James II. His widow, Lady Waldegrave, formerly Sarah Milward, gave the largest donation for building the current church (£I,000) and laid the foundation stone.

10 The parents and sister of Sir Cecil Rhodes, pioneer and statesman who gave his name to Rhodesia. Cecil Rhodes loved walking in Fairlight Glen. He did not marry. Cecil is buried at World’s View, Matobo National Park, Zimbabwe.

11 Frederick Ticehurst. JP and surgeon for 45 years in Hastings. He was Mayor of Hastings five times and surgeon to the 4^th Cinque Ports volunteers. You might recognise the name as family member Richard Ticehurst has a ward named after him at the Conquest Hospital, Hastings.

12 The Sankey family. Percy gave land to the church in 1926 as a Rose Garden at the eastern end of the churchyard, now a graveyard extension. His son, Reverend John Sankey, founded the Old Hastings Preservation Society.

13 The Martineau family. A prominent family from Fairlight Lodge connected to the Whitbread brewers. The family includes the wife of Cyril Edgar Martineau, Muriel Delano Martineau, first cousin to US President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Catherine Middleton, wife of Prince William, is a distant relation.

14 Sir James Roberts, Baronet JP, LLD. He made his fortune as owner of Saltaire, a model industrial community near Bradford. TS Eliot referred to ‘a silk hat on a millionaire’ in the poem, ‘The Waste Land’ after meeting him.

The above are the names in the present church information sheet. Further names will we added to this list and will include:-

-Members of the North family, who included a local MP and Marianne North, the botanist and artist after whom a gallery is named at Kew Gardens.

-James Scholefield, Professor of Greek at Cambridge Trinity.

-Admiral Cospatrick Baillie-Hamilton.

-Sir George Curzon Bisshopp, 11^th Baronet of Parham.

-Mary Bonnet Capel Davies, daughter of James Capel of City Stockbrokers, James Capel & Company.

-Jack Frye, late husband of Lady Dashwood. Lady Dashwood, when previously known as Marla Landi, appeared in films including The Hound of the Baskervilles with Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee.

-Graeme Sutherland, the 7^th Laird of Graemeshall, Orkney Islands.

-Frederick Henry Hamilton Smith, of the Barons Colwyn.

-Henry Hemans, grandson of Felicia Hemans. Felicia, a poetess, was probably best known for “The boy stood on the burning deck……..”

-Sir Charles Taylor, 2^nd Baronet Hollycombe.

-The Hon. Maurice Richard Wingfield, of the Viscount Powerscourt family.

No doubt more names can and will be added to this list.

Clearly, we have more than our fair share of ‘important’ people. If we compare our Parish to our neighbours in Pett, they seem to have very few. It can only be attributed to our location with our amazing views across Rye Bay and the Channel. Sadly those views have been mostly obscured by trees in the 20^th and 21^st centuries.

We, the Fairlight History Group, had planned to give an expanded presentation on the ‘The celebrities and worthies of Fairlight graveyard’ on 18^th March at the Village Hall. Sadly this was postponed due to Covid 19 restrictions and we will have to find a suitable opportunity to put this on in the future.

As usual, if you know anything further about any of the above people, or want to know more, please contact us.

By Paul Draper (September 2020)

 By Haydon Luke.

[This is an amended form of the article which first appeared in The Volunteer – the online magazine of the Friends of the Hastings Country Park Nature Reserve.]

It is well-known that there is a deep association between the Fairlight landscape and the work of the Pre-Raphaelite painters of the mid-19^th century, several of whom spent long periods staying in the area. Perhaps the best-known use of the Fairlight landscape is in the famous painting Our English Coasts which can be seen in Tate Britain.

The location for the picture was near the Lover’s seat, a well-known beauty spot perched on the cliffs overlooking Covehurst Bay, near Hastings. Sadly the Lovers’ Seat no longer exists having fallen victim to the unstable nature of the coast in the 1960s. But the general lie of the land as depicted in the painting can still be seen today.

Hunt has paid scrupulous attention to natural detail and it would be nice to think that one could find the exact spot where Hunt placed his easel, but the truth is that the cliffs, sheep and parts of the foreground were all painted from different viewpoints, and the butterflies in the left foreground were painted indoors from a live specimen.

Hunt exhibited the picture at the Royal Academy in 1853 but it was painted a year earlier when Hunt was only 25 and was staying with one of his pupils, Robert Martineau, who lived nearby at Fairlight Lodge. Much of what we know about the painters in that exciting period in the mid-19^th Century is contained in the account written by William Rossetti, brother of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who was also in Hastings at that period.

D G Rossetti enjoyed walks in what is now the Country Park with his beloved but sickly Lizzie Siddal whom he later married in St Clement’s Church, Hastings, on May 23^rd 1860. At the time they lived at 5 The High Street and a pencil drawing by Lizzie clearly situated in that house was recently exhibited at the National Portrait Gallery in the exhibition Pre-Raphaelite Sisters – works by the women associated with the Pre-Raphaelites.

There is a lesser-known second Holman Hunt landscape painting with its location in the Country Park. It draws together Lear and Hunt who spent a lot of time in each other’s company in 1852 whilst Lear was working on his painting The Quarries of Syracuse which he had earlier begun in Sicily. Hunt, who at the time was staying with the Martineau family at Fairlight Lodge, persuaded Lear that some of the Fairlight quarries would be adequate stand-ins for the famous Sicilian quarry.

It was during their association that Hunt began to paint Fairlight Downs- Sunlight on the Sea which he exhibited in 1856. The subject of the painting is familiar to anyone who has walked in the country park – the view over the glens and out to sea with a brilliant sun shining off the water and a few ships dotted about. But the execution of the painting gave Hunt considerable problems, notably the high contrast between the brilliant reflection of the sun off the sea and the relatively subdued autumnal fields in the foreground and middle distance. It is almost impossible to find an accurate reproduction of the colours in the painting or to see the original which is in private hands.

There are two curious details in the painting: a flying walking stick in the left foreground and a large black dog on the right-hand side. These details are believed to be a humorous reference to Edward Lear who, though he liked animals, was not keen on the Martineau’s big Newfoundlands which often accompanied them on walks. Lear has presumably ‘exited left’ in a hurry, abandoning his walking stick in his anxiety to avoid the over enthusiastic animal eagerly running towards the viewer.

Hunt made several further visits to Fairlight over the next decade and one result was a very small painting, scarcely bigger than a postcard, in pencil, watercolour and gouache called The Silver Lining. The inscription on the back locates it on Fairlight Down. Although the dramatically back lit clouds in the sky and the downland landscape with sheep are quintessentially Sussex, it is nigh on impossible to pinpoint exactly where on Fairlight Down it represents. But we would love to know! All suggestions gratefully received.

By Haydon Luke

By Haydon Luke

There is a long association between the Sussex coast and smuggling and the are few locations along that coast more closely bound up with that activity than Fairlight. The association stretches right back to the very start of smuggling in the 14^th century and continues to the very end of the trade in contraband in the 19^th century.

I have written a detailed account of that history elsewhere but what follows is a contemporary account of the inquest into the last fatalities of the smuggling era which just happened to occur in Fairlight Glen on 5^th January 1831. The account appeared in many newspapers of the period including The Times but they all seem to be derived from this report in the Hastings Iris, then a popular local newspaper. It is worth reproducing in full to get a sense of how the event was seen in its own times.

[Gover’s Cottage and Covehurst Cottage, both mentioned in the account, are the same place.]

 TWO SMUGGLERS SHOT

(from the Hastings Iris)

We regret that we have to state, that a desperate affray took place on Wednesday morning, between 3 and 4 o’clock, on the beach, in front of Gover’s cottage, about 2 miles to the eastward of Hastings, when two men were killed on the part of the smugglers, and one of the blockade so severely beaten that his life is despaired of, having his arm broken in two places, and five or six cuts in his head. Another man stationed near to him was very much knocked about, but was able to give his evidence at the inquest.

The coroner’s inquest on the bodies of William Crittenden, of Hastings, and George Harrod, of Guestling, was held on Thursday last, at 12 o’clock, at Mr Thomas Harrod’s, the Fishponds’ Farm house, Fairlight, before Mr TC Bellingham, the coroner for the rape of Hastings. The first person examined was Samuel Dicker, a labouring man in the employment of Mr Milward, and living in one of his cottages at Fairlight. He was going up the road to the new barn on Wednesday morning, between 7 and 8 o’clock, in company with a man named Taylor, when they saw the body of William Crittenden lying in the turnip field. It was on its right side: his Guernsey jacket and shirt were pulled off as far as their being buttoned at the wrist would allow. He Samuel Dicker, loosened the shirt and jacket at the wrist, and took them off, and lay them over the body. He had been shot, and was quite dead. They carried him into the barn, and he had watched the body ever since. He appeared to have moved in the field, and tried to get his clothes off. There were no marks about the ground to show that anyone had been with him.

John Head examined. – Is a carpenter, lives at the Fishponds’ Farm house. About 9 o’clock on Wednesday morning he saw the body of George Harrod, lying about 10 rods above the Gover’s cottage; knew him well; he was lying on his back, quite dead; there was no one near the body when he first saw it; Henry Harrod and Henry Moggeridge, were with him; went back to the barn, when Thomas Harrod, the bailiff on the farm, desired him to take a wattle and fetch the body up to the barn. Had seen Crittenden’s body at the barn before this. Harrod had a dark green frock on; blood was running from him at the time he was taken to the barn, and the body is now in the same state as when it was taken there.

Samuel Irvine, surgeon, RN, described the gunshot wounds which the two men had received, which had caused their deaths.

William Rixon, ex-seaman, belonging to the Hyperion, was on duty on the beach about 3 o’clock in the morning of Wednesday last, near Gover’s cottage. A sloop showed a light about 2 miles from the shore, to the southward and westward. In about 10 minutes afterwards a boat left her, which was making for the shore. As soon as she came near, could see three men pulling, and one man in the stern, steering. He went up under the cliff, and saw 30 or 40 men with sticks nine or ten feet long; they looked like soldiers with muskets. So soon as he hailed them, another party, which he had not seen before, ran to attack the two men who were on duty near him. The first party which he had seen threatened his life, and said, if he did not fire, they would not hurt him, but if he fired, they would cut his throat. He immediately fired his musket for assistance: did not recollect which way he fired; he might have fired in the direction in which the men stood. They sprang on him; about a dozen handled him, struck him on the side of the head with their sticks, which forced to the ground, and stunned him, after which he was senseless for some time; and as he was recovering, they struck again. Some of his comrades came to his assistance. After the men had left him, he found he had been dragged a considerable way up the cliff. They had torn his clothes in trying to disarm him. He then went down to the boat, and stood by her until his officer came down and seized her. The smugglers took the pistols and musket from him. The musket had since been found, the pistols have not. They were all loaded with ball cartridge. The duty imposed on him in case of the attempt to land contraband goods, was to resist to the utmost of his power. He fired as a signal for assistance. The men were on the cliff rather above him. He fired once before he was knocked down; but afterwards discharged four or five pieces signals for assistance. The men went down to the boat to take the goods out. He could hear them run down and up the beach as the people laid on him. There were 93 tubs in the boat. The fire-guns he fired after he recovered were for assistance in case the smugglers should come back again.

Lieutenant G.T. Smythe, – was stationed at Fairlight. It was nearly 4 o’clock in the morning of the 5th, and he had just entered the watchhouse, when he heard that a gun was fired at Gover’s cottage. He went immediately in the direction of Fairlight place. There was continual firing on the beach until he got to Fairlight place. He went down the western side of the road to the Gover’s cottage. He found the boat on her broadside on the beach, full of tubs, two of the men standing by her. He seized the boat, which he found to contain 93 tubs of foreign spirits, which was deposited in the custom-house Hastings the same day. On the beach he found Rixon and the other two men stationed near him. One of them, Frederick Devorce, was nearly killed. He is so very bad, that it would have been impossible to bring him to the inquest. He could not been removed from the beach until the latter part of the day, he was so seriously hurt. The contest between his men and the smugglers had taken place before he got to the beach. As he was returning he saw Harrod lying in the road just above the cottage. He sent some men to move him to a place where he might have assistance. Two men came from the eastward, and two from the westward, to the assistance of his three men on the beach. A pistol went off as he was going up the fields, but he understood it was accidental.

Lieutenant Frederick Hire, stationed at the Haddocks watchhouse on the 5th, between 3 and 4 o’clock in the morning, on the alarm being given, went to the Fishponds’ gate, he saw 10 or 12 men. Two of his men called to them to stand. He was accompanied by five or six men. They fired in the air, when the smugglers dropped their tubs and ran away. He was armed, but did not fire. He soon lost sight of the smugglers. Returning through the wood, they found 16 tubs of foreign spirits, which were on the same day deposited in the custom-house at Hastings.

William Bocock, seaman of the Hyperion, was on duty on the beach, near Gover’s cottage, about 3 o’clock on the morning of the 5th; a sloop, about two miles to the southern and westward, put up a light, and a boat soon afterwards came from her, making for the shore. He said to William Rixon, “Here is a boat coming in;” which we took to be a galley. She came pretty close to the shore, and lay on her oars. A man came to relieve me, named Devorce, Rixon slewed round, and went nearer to a party of men in the cliff. We then were 20 or 30 yards asunder. The party sung out, “Don’t fire, and we will not hurt you.” Another said, “If you do fire, we will cut your throats;” or something to that effect. They then came down off the cliff towards us with great bats in their hands as thick as my arm, and Rixon fired his musket. He (Bocock) then fired also, but could not see Rixon for the people who were around him, but fired amongst them. Could not tell who he hit, neither did he see what they did to Rixon. The party followed him, and three or four of them knocked him down at the water’s edge with their bats. His arms and ammunition were taken from him, and thrown into the sea, when the men called out of the boat to come in, which she did. He did not know what happened afterwards, as he was insensible from the blows which he received. He had fired one pistol, and his musket. They were loaded with a ball each. He did not fire at all, until Rixon was knocked down, and the men with bats were coming down on him. Did not know whether his shot took effect or not.

The Coroner then addressed the jury. He said one thing was certain from the evidence adduced, that the men came by their deaths by gunshot wounds, but by whom inflicted was not made out by the evidence; the act of Parliament was so strongly worded, that the men on duty, to prevent smuggling, were justified in firing even if they were not attacked, if they did so in discharge of their duty, to prevent contraband goods being run. He had merely stated these particulars for the guidance of the jury. His own opinion as to the proper verdict – and it was only opinion they (the jury) had to decide -was, that the men died from gun-shot wounds inflicted by some person or persons unknown.

The Jury, after being closeted for about a quarter of an hour, brought in their verdict that “William Crittenden and Joseph Harrod died from gun-shot wounds inflicted by some person or persons unknown; – but that it was justifiable homicide on the part of those who shot them.”

Contemporary engraving of the location of the incident described.

By Haydon Luke

This article is from the Hastings Observer from June 1913. Original text by A.M.A.

Thank you to Sarah Upton for sourcing this article.

Few places in the neighbourhood are less easy of access than Pett. Hence we get at once an added charm.

The moment any village becomes popular by being easy to get at, it generally ends in being vulgarized. Pett lies far away from the sight and sound of the railways, and still prefers the carrier’s van to the iron horse. The question of transport has not altered for many years. The observant eye will notice in the morning a vehicle in the neighbourhood of the Memorial slowly winding its way towards the Old Town, ladies with a miscellaneous cargo, human and otherwise, whose ultimate destination is to Pett. Early in the morning Pett has given us of her best in the way of scores of gallons of rich, fresh milk and with the return of the empties the balance of the weight is adjusted by sundry and divers persons, generally ladies of varying ages, who accompanied by a number of parcels of widely differing dimensions, and sometimes a cycle or two are going to “have a day at Pett”. One can almost tell the season of the year by glancing at the countenances of the passengers. The smile of anticipatory delight seems to broaden with the varying periods, reaching its expensive maximum in the spring just about primrose time.

Without this conveyance Pett would still be an undiscovered country to many, but every village finds some worthy citizen to overcome difficulties of this nature and the name of Colegate is to Pett what Harrod or Whiteley stands for to the average Londoner. True it is that the tram now takes about a third of the distance off, but I am confident that very few of these who are conveyed direct to the village by the vehicle alluded to would ever take the journey if they had to walk from the tram route to the village and back.

But for the purposes of our walk, even the welcome conveyance direct to Pett must for the moment be discarded, for with the advent of summer and the

DELIGHTS OF FIELD AND HEDGEROWS

we want to leave the high road and take our journey by the field paths. For this purpose we will presume the rambler has, either by tram or on foot, found his way to Ore from which point we will make our start.

Leaving Christ Church, Ore and walking up the Fairlight road for some distance, we notice a sign-post on our left pointing the way to North’s Seat. Here we leave the road and take the track up to North’s Seat. If it is clear, the view from here is always worth a few minutes pause, for it is the best view spot in our immediate locality. Leaving North’s Seat and looking eastward towards Fairlight Church, our track follows in that direction for about one hundred yards, where we go through the swing gate in front of us, and straight ahead down the field passing a large clump of trees immediately on our left. If you look right in front as you come down the field, you will see the tall spire of Pett Church about 2 ½ miles ahead of you as the crow flies, but rather more than that as you will walk. It is always advisable when possible to get an early view of the point you are steering for, as it makes a walk more interesting.

At the bottom of the field we cross the road and take the little swing gate opposite and keep straight down on the field path ahead. Following down we pass The Hall, Fairlight, which is about two hundred yards on our right. At the end of two or three fields our path enters a little copse and crossing two small wooden bridges we follow a few yards across a field till our path comes out close to a large swing gate that crosses a cart-track. Here we cross the track and take the path straight ahead with the six-wire fence close to our right hand. About fifty or sixty yards along we go through a small swing gate, and another fifty yards further we go through another swing gate.

Now just pause for a moment, for at this point your attention is closely needed. You will notice that the path now turns up a little slightly to our left. We do not want to take this path. Straight in front of us as we stand at the gate are five oak trees, I am taking no account of the holly tree on their right. Steer between the two bottom oak trees, and in a few yards straight on you will notice signs of a path that shows very little use. This leads us straight ahead to a stile when our path enters a copse. It is only a few yards through the copse and we emerge into another field. Keep straight down the field with the hedgerow close to your right. At the bottom of the field get over a stile and proceed on the path straight ahead. Lower down we get over another stile, and crossing the road follow the path on the other side straight ahead with a tall hedgerow immediately on your left. Some distance further on we cross another road, and here again we take the field path directly opposite. We now see the

SPIRE OF THE CHURCH

Straight ahead. Our path leads into a wood and shortly becomes more of a cart track. It now begins to ascend as we go through the leafy and shady wood, and shortly it leads us into the main road directly opposite the blacksmith’s forge. We are now in Pett village and taking the right on emerging from the wood it is only two or three minutes walk to the Church.

Pett Church like Fairlight, is a mere infant in point of age. It stands in a pleasant position and is

SEEN FROM ALMOST ANY POINT

In the district. The present Rector is the Rev. F.C.A Young, who will be remembered by many as the Curate of St John’s at St Leonards for several years. His father, the Rev. Frederick Young, was Rector of Pett from 1857 to 1882. I remember him well. He was a man much beloved, and zealous of good works. He was followed by the Rev. John Moore Fincher, who was Rector from 1882 to 1909 when he died, in his 86^th year, after having charge of the parish for twenty-seven years. The present Rector took charge four years ago, and I am sure every inhabitant of Pett will re-echo the sentiment when I express the fervent hope that he may be spared to look after the wants of his little flock for a period even greater than either of the two previous Rectors, who between them had the oversight of the parish for no less than fifty-two years. An old font, dating back to 1763, can be seen in the churchyard close to the South-East corner of the church, the present font being a gift many years ago by the father of Archdeacon Churton of Bexhill.

Pett, like most of our Sussex villages, is very straggling, being built along both sides of the main road only. Its situation is open and very pleasant, being well above the marsh land, although when viewed from Fairlight it looks as if it were right in the valley. The walker that is not afraid of a mile or two should continue on past the church, and descending Chick Hill, come out at the seashore at Cliff End, returning to Hastings by way of the path over the cliffs and hillside to Fairlight. Or one could walk up the marshes by the military canal over Pett Level, right up to Winchelsea. These are questions for individual tastes and capabilities. The walk to Pett from Christ Church, Ore, by the field path route described is about three and a half miles, and it would be about the same distance by the main road. At this time of the year the fields have more to offer us than the roadway, although many a country roadside teems with good things. A pilgrimage to Pett will be a change for many of our town dwellers, and one that will do them good.

And now we must take our leave of Pett. Here in this peaceful, but somewhat out of the way spot, Pett pursues the even tenour of her way. But it would be folly to think that life in these parts is monotonous and unchanging. Like all communities, the Pettites have their periods when they

SHAKE OFF THE SHACKLES

of routine, and wander abroad to towns and cities to see how other parts of the world wag. I well remember a season or two ago leaving London for home one night by the last train, which was due here some half hour or more after midnight. Just as I had entered a compartment, and was making myself comfortable, I heard, amid sounds of merry laughter, voices with such a true Sussex ring about them that to my South country ears they sounded something like “Auld Lang Syne” must sound to a stranded Scot in a foreign land.

On putting my head out of the window I found a number of worthy Pettites, under the charge of my friend the Rector, returning home after a long day in the city. Eager to know what time they expected to get to Pett, when the train would not arrive at Hastings until long after midnight, I was informed that a conveyance would take some home, but some of the more ardent members intended walking. I am sure that as they journeyed towards Pett in the small hours of that summer’s morning the signs of the approaching daylight must have been quite marked in the Eastern skies before they got to rest.

Probably you think an adventure like this would throw out of gear the working machinery of a small community like Pett. Nothing of the sort. Next morning true to time those scores of gallons of rich fresh milk which Pett out of her generosity daily gives us in return for certain shekels of silver arrived in due course. The empties returned from Hastings with the same unerring accuracy as if nothing whatever had happened. Certain passengers, principally ladies, accompanied by more or less uncertain parcels, took their places with the said empties in the vehicle which acts for transport purposes for one and all, and went forth to “have a day at Pett”.

By Sarah Upton

On 13 October 1849, the then landlord of the Robin Hood Inn, James Goldsmith, made a shocking discovery in the loft. He had ascended into the space under the coned roof via means of a trap door in the closet, (which was large enough to hold a bed) next to the principal bedroom, where he discovered the body of a child which had been there for some time. The matter was reported to the authorities and Constable George Jeffrey attended on 17 October, as he had been notified by post. There was considerable interest in the discovery as the case followed just a short time after the Geering poisonings in Guestling, with Mary Geering having only been executed in Lewes a few weeks prior in August 1849. With press attention focused on the area this story did make the national press.

An inquest was held at the Robin Hood, (the custom then was to hold inquests in nearby public houses) on 8 November 1849. The Coroner leading the inquiry was N.P.Kell, Coroner for Hastings. It was reported by the Sussex Advertiser & Surrey Gazette that the examination was a tedious one taking about 7 hours, by which we can probably assume they meant thorough! Mr Goldsmith reported that he had entered the loft space out of curiosity as he had not looked there since taking over the pub about a year before. Therein he discovered a hearth brush, an apron and a basket which contained the body of the child. The body had been wrapped in a piece of old carpet, which due to the decomposition of the body had mostly rotted away. However, it was possible to determine that the pattern of the carpet was the same of that in the room adjacent to the closet. The carpet had been laid at some point previous to Mr Goldsmith moving in. There was also a fragment of newspaper in the basket, which was undated, however the article detailed could be dated to 1844 as it had been a significant story at that time. The article related to Mr Joseph Capur of Tunstall who had recently been released from prison following a sentence for sedition. He was a bit of a hero of the working class and his story is worth a read, although it is highly unlikely it has any relation to the unidentified child.

The body was described as that of a fully developed male baby, measuring about 20 inches in length, with perfectly developed bones, appearing like a mummy but in a state of partial decomposition. There were a few small holes in the cranium, but it was not possible to say whether these had, or had not been caused by any act of violence. It appeared as though the child had died some three or four years previously. The medical examination was performed by Robert Coker Davies, Surgeon of Winchelsea who determined that it was a fully developed baby but was unable to ascertain whether it was born alive.

Mrs Sarah Goldsmith and a servant, Eliza Fisher, had been present with Mr Goldsmith at the time of his discovery and corroborated his version of events. As Mr Goldsmith had only recently taken over the Robin Hood, attentions were turned to the previous occupants.

Mr Christopher Hoad had been the previous resident license holder and he lived at the pub together with his wife, Maria, and family; they also employed a live-in servant, Dinah Cook. They were all called to give evidence at the Inquest. Christopher Hoad stated he had been the landlord for 9 years and he and his wife had slept in the main bedroom, and there was a sofa bed in the small room off the main bedroom through which access to the loft was gained. He denied any knowledge of the basket with the baby in. He appears to have been somewhat vague as to who slept on the sofa bed, saying he had, his wife had, may be the servant, however it definitely was not his daughter Charlotte. He stated that he thought his servant Dinah had been in the family way three years previously, but when he asked his washerwoman, Mrs Sarah Bates, she said it was not so (she subsequently confirmed this when she was called as a witness). Dinah Cook had left his service the following year and after that domestic duties were sometimes undertaken by his nieces.

John James Pocock, resident of Winchelsea. was the next witness to be sworn in and it would appear that he was a medical practitioner. He confirmed that he had been called to attend to Charlotte Hoad, three years ago for a rheumatic inflammation of the wrist but did not think that any individual in the house was in a state to bring forth a child. He stated that he did not recall attending a servant called Dinah Cook.

Mrs Maria Hoad was then called, who appeared to have a slightly different recollection of the sleeping arrangements in the small room to her husband, stating that she had occasionally slept there when her grandchildren were living in the house. Her daughters, nieces or servant had never slept there. She then strongly protested that she knew nothing of the articles produced. “I am innocent of everything on the table. I know no more than the child unborn. I never knew anything of any person in the house that could have given birth to a child. People have said that my daughters were in the family way, but a mother’s feelings are often wounded; I am sure that my daughters are innocent. I am not able to give the Jury any information with respect to the present affair.”

Police Constable Jeffrey then stated that this differed to the statement that the witness had given him the previous night, when she explained that when Mr Pocock attended her daughter, he was unable to do anything more for her because she was in the family way.

The Hoad’s other daughter, Mary Ann, was then called as a witness, where she is presented as Mrs John Wood. Mary Ann stated that she was now living with her father, as her husband was living abroad and she did not know where he is. She said that she had lived intermittently with her father at the Robin Hood. Her only knowledge of the current events is what other people had said to her and she had made no statements as to who the mother or the father of the baby could be. She recalled that the servant had slept in the room under the loft (third different version!) and that she had appeared very stout 3 and a half years ago which people had said was dropsy. She believed that the servant left the house in that state, although could not say so with certainty.

Dinah, wife of Charles Wood, was then called who confirmed that her maiden name was Cook. She stated that she had lived at the Robin Hood as a servant for three years but had left four years ago last March. She did not know anything about the basket and it’s contents. She said that she had been ill whilst living at the Robin Hood and had been attended by Mr Pocock and received medicine from Mr Bray.

Charlotte Hoad was then called, at the time living in Lewisham but confirmed she had previously lived at the pub with her father. She denied all knowledge of the present circumstances and did not know of anyone who had lived there who had given birth or been i

Helen Hoad was then called, and she confirmed that she had lived at the Robin Hood for about two years with her uncle & aunt and cousin Charlotte. She confirmed that her cousin had suffered rheumatic gout of the arm when she first lived there and had been ill from the October until the following spring. She denied any knowledge of anyone giving birth or being in the family way.

The coroner in summing up then directed the Jury that there really was no evidence before them by which they could be guided with any certainty to speak as to the circumstances of attending the depositing of the body in the loft in which it was found. It would be advisable therefore to record an open verdict in the event of any information connected with the mother coming to light, such a course would not interfere with any magisterial investigation. Verdict “Found Dead”.

REVIEWING THE EVIDENCE & SPOTLIGHT ON THE HOADS

It would appear that the Hoad family were not agreed in the evidence that they gave as to who used the room that had access to the loft. It would also appear that James Pocock seemed to suffer with memory problems as he had no recollection of Dinah Cook, but she said he attended her when she was unwell. However, when Charlotte was unwell according to the statement of her cousin Helen, and Dinah’s own statement Dinah was no longer employed at the pub.

Christopher Hoad and his wife Maria (nee Tutt) had seven children, five sons and two daughters. Only two of the sons survived until adulthood. Their eldest son Edwin died an infant, their second son Christopher suffered a tragic accident when he was 20 years old in January 1829. He had been shooting with his Uncle John Hoad in the Kitchen Wood behind Broomham Hall. John Hoad was reportedly carrying a cocked gun with his hand just behind the lock when it is conjectured that a bramble touched the trigger. The muzzle of the gun was just a few yards away from his nephew Christopher and the whole charge entered near to his left hip and he instantly fell to the ground. His uncle had not felt the shock from the gun and was completely astonished, but he immediately went to his nephew’s aid, gathering him up and rushing him to Sir William Ashburnham at Broomham Hall. Christopher was immediately transferred home by carriage and another carriage was sent for a surgeon from Hastings. The extent of his injury was detailed in the Sussex Advertiser and it seems that Christopher was very lucky that the inguinal artery was not hit. However, it may be that Christopher did not recover well from this injury as he died the following January, reportedly of consumption.

The family vacated the pub in September 1848 when Christopher Hoad was declared insolvent and all his property was transferred to Messrs Breeds of Hastings in payment for his debts. Mr Goldsmith stated that he brought the Robin Hood from Mr Hoad’s trustees at the Inquiry. Christopher was a lifelong resident in the Parish, although in 1851 is living at Rye Harbour, he was the son of Christopher Hoad and Hannah Hassel. Christopher died in 1856 and Maria in 1865 at the age of 85, thus she was past childbearing age at the time in question.

Mary-Ann was the youngest of the Hoad children and was 31 years old at the time of the inquest. Upon reviewing census, baptismal and marriage records following the time of the inquest it would appear that Mary-Ann lived with her father for some time, together with a growing brood of children. Her reported husband John Wood is quite a hard person to find in the records, but I did eventually find them living together in Icklesham (not far from the Robin Hood) in 1841 with a daughter Ann. John is listed as being an Ostler, but I cannot trace a marriage record and it appears that Ann did not survive. Frances (Fanny) was born in Icklesham in 1845, followed by a son Christopher in 1847 and another son Stephen born in February 1851, but he is listed on the census just a month later as a Hoad, as were all the children. Mary-Ann was living with her parents in Rye Harbour in 1851. Mary-Ann is shown in census reports as Mary-Ann Hoad and is only shown as Mary Ann Wood on Christopher’s baptism entry, no record of her marrying is found until she is shown as marrying Zebulon Fellows on 26 August 1866 when they were both 44 years of age.  Census returns show that they had been living together locally before that and had several children together. Very interesting is the fact that they married in the Parish of St Leonard in Shoreditch and although the address on the marriage certificate is a Shoreditch address it is the only record that shows them living outside of our local area. Also of note is that she is listed as a spinster and Zebulon is listed as a Batchelor, neither being listed as divorced or widowed.

Zebulon is recorded as having been married in the Parish of Icklesham in 1845 to Maria Crockford. Zebulon and Maria were listed as living two doors away from the Hoad family in Rye Harbour in 1851. This marriage bore no children and Maria is recorded as being a housekeeper for widowed George Baker and his family in Icklesham for many years, then was listed as an inmate at Rye Workhouse and was noted to be a widow on the census following George Baker’s death. Zebulon was illiterate according to his marriage certificate and worked as an Agricultural Labourer so it is unlikely that he ever obtained a divorce, which was beyond all but the wealthy at that time. Mary-Ann died in 1903 and Zebulon in 1893.

Charlotte at the time of the inquest was 36 years old. There is no record of her marrying until the month after the inquiry when she married a miller, George Westrup, by license, in Deptford in December 1849. George was born in Ipswich and he was ten years Charlotte’s junior. Interestingly from this point on on census returns Charlotte appears to be about five years younger than on the returns before her marriage! He was listed as a Batchelor and she a spinster in the marriage records. Their son George junior was born on 26 April 1850 and they went on to have a further 3 children. For the time she married at a very late age indeed. I have found a note of a marriage between a Charlotte Hoad and William Gibbons at Icklesham in May 1836 but I cannot find any other information at all to confirm whether it is the same Charlotte, by 1841 Charlotte is listed as living with her parents.

In my opinion Charlotte is most likely to be mother of the child. She would have already been in her 30s and unmarried. Had she been abandoned or was she holding out for someone? Had she tried to force a marriage by becoming pregnant? A six month illness for rheumatic gout of the wrist seems most unlikely, but would be a good cover for an advanced pregnancy and a birth. Her father went out of his way at the inquest to say it definitely was not Charlotte. Her mother Maria probably shouted her denial of the baby just a little bit too loudly. At the time of the inquest Charlotte herself would have been pregnant, although this may not have been known and was due to marry the following month. This would finally take her “off the shelf” and no doubt neither she, nor her family, wanted to jeopardise that. Her sudden move to London after all those years may have also been an escape from local gossip, or reminders of things she had lost. Mary had already been a mother several times over by the time in question and would have had nothing to lose by declaring another baby, alive or otherwise. Although I suspect the local rumour mill run riot, the family seem to have had the loyalty of their former staff and their doctor in protecting Charlotte’s reputation.

By Sarah Upton

By Haydon Luke ( previously printed in Fairlight News)

My research into RAF Fairlight has continued to throw up interesting snippets of information and it is clear that the radar station was extensive, complex and absolutely vital in the air war against Germany especially during the Battle of Britain and again at the time of the V1 flying bombs in 1944.

The full story of RAF Fairlight is for another time. My topic on this occasion involves the radar station but tells of an unpleasant Christmas present and its repercussions.

Almost 80 years ago, on Christmas morning 1941, an event occurred which caused a high level investigation because not only did it result in civilian and service casualties but it was initially thought to be a ‘friendly fire’ incident.  So sensitive was this event that it was unreported at the time outside the military, and the files remained embargoed until 1972.  Even then the files lay buried unseen in the National Archives. 

What happened was this.

At 09.45 on Christmas morning two low flying fighters swooped in at sea level and shot up the Fairlight Coastguard Station, Christmas churchgoers at St Andrew’s Church, and the radar station. As a consequence, a civilian air raid warden was injured and taken to hospital and a house was slightly damaged. A further, similar event happened the next day, Boxing Day, in which two servicemen and a civilian were slightly injured, three houses and the CG Station were damaged and telephone lines were brought down.

(Air Ministry Memo, 1 January 1942, in National Archives AIR 16/480)

Incredibly, the first reports from the Observer Corps, the RAF and the Army indicated that the aircraft were Spitfires flown by Polish pilots and this was the information relayed to the regional office for Home Security in Tunbridge Wells and notified upwards to the War Cabinet itself.  To say that the incident provoked consternation is an understatement!

Initially, it looked bad for the RAF. The RAF confirmed that its aircraft were in the sector at the time on firing practice.  Reading the various letters, memos, signals and other correspondence now one can reasonably infer that all hell was let loose!  If it was a FF incident, it would have to be vigorously followed up and culprits disciplined and if not it would have to be determined what had actually happened and why, if the raiders were German, had the radar not detected them?  An energetic enquiry ensued at various levels.

As in all organisations, the enquiry was characterised by a tendency by the various participants to exonerate themselves from any blame.

In the event and after detailed investigation it was concluded that the raiders were indeed hostile fighters, Messerschmidt 109Es, and the confusion had arisen because of the proximity of RAF aircraft in the same sector (on firing ranges at Bexhill) at the same time.  The fact that on both days the raid had taken place whilst the radar was off watch undergoing maintenance was an unfortunate coincidence, though it was later admitted privately that even if the radar had been operating it would have been unlikely to have detected aircraft flying in so close to sea level.  In his report one of the investigating officers said: “I do not think it advisable to give too much publicity to the fact that very low raids will often approach undetected by the radio location organisation, but I leave it to your discretion to tell Mr McGill as much as is necessary” (Letter to Wing Commander G G Walker, 19 Jan 1942, in National Archives, AIR 16/480)

Indeed, it was this difficulty in ‘seeing’ very low flying aircraft that led indirectly to the later re-siting of the radar aerials from their original location near North’s Seat to a position closer to the cliff top and the Coastguard Station.

The incident not only caused a massive brouhaha but it also exacerbated the inter-service rivalries and sensitivities that existed at the time. On 4 January 1942 an Air Ministry official wrote this somewhat pained letter to Air Commodore A D Cunningham.  It is clear that the RAF was still extremely sensitive to criticism.

And so the incident passed into history and the account of what happened was buried in the archives, one event of many in which the airmen and women of RAF Fairlight participated during the station’s service in WW2 and into the Cold War.

By Haydon Luke

By Haydon Luke

The Anne – now sleeping quietly on the beach at Pett Level

Many people are aware that there is a significant shipwreck lying concealed in the beach at Pett Level. The remains are those of the Anne, one of the great ships of the navy of King Charles II. The story of how our local beach became her final resting place after an epic battle against the French is my tale for this issue of the Fairlight News.

If you had been a watcher on the cliffs at Fairlight in the midsummer 330 years ago, you would have been witness to the dramatic closing stages of the Battle of Beachy Head. Although the main battle was fought on 10^th July 1690 there had been a series of naval engagements in the Channel during June and into July involving, on the one hand a combined British and Dutch fleet, and on the other, who else but the French.

The context was the Nine Years’ War (1688–1697), often called the War of the Grand Alliance or the War of the League of Augsburg. It was a conflict between Louis XIV of France and a European coalition of the Holy Roman Empire (led by Austria), the Dutch Republic, Spain, England, and Savoy. It was fought in Europe and the surrounding seas, in North America and in India. Because the theatres in which battles were fought were so widespread, it is sometimes considered to be the first world war.

The history of the period is complex but, from the English perspective, the conflict encompassed the consequences following the ‘Glorious Revolution’ of 1688 which established protestant William of Orange on the English throne. There were wars in Ireland and Jacobite risings in Scotland. In colonial North America there were battles and skirmishes between French and English settlers and their respective Indigenous allies in New England and the St Lawrence Valley in Canada. In India the French were gradually losing influence to the increasingly dominant and successful English East India Company.

But let’s get local. What brought elements of this global conflict so close to our home on the Sussex shore? Again, I have to say, things are complex. But basically the battle was, as is so often the case, for the control of the English Channel.

The French, under the Comte de Tourville, commanding the combined Brest and Mediterranean fleets, have 75 ships of the line and 23 fireships. On 23 June they sail towards the Channel; by 30 June, the French are off the Lizard. The English fleet under the command of the Earl of Torrington sets sail from the Nore (the Thames estuary) but is weaker with many ships on duty far away. The Allied fleet has only 56 English and Dutch ships of the line, with 4,153 guns, against the French fleet which can deploy 4,600 guns.

Torrington’s fleet reaches the Isle of Wight and is joined by a Dutch squadron. On 5 July, Torrington sights the French fleet but, recognising their superior strength, announces his intention of retreating to the Straits of Dover, believing that the risk to his fleet in battle would be too great. In London, Queen Mary (King William is away fighting in Ireland) and her advisers are split over what to do and some believe that Admiral Torrington is beset by defeatism or even treachery.

Whilst arguments rage in London the two fleets move slowly up the channel with Torrington keeping carefully out of range of the French. Eventually those in London make their decision. It is for battle. The orders reach the admiral on 9 July whilst he is off Beachy Head. Torrington realises that not to give battle would be to be guilty of direct disobedience. But to give battle is, in his judgment, to incur serious risk of defeat. Torrington calls a council of war with his flag-officers, who conclude that they have no option but to obey.

And so, on 10^th July, battle is joined. I know that for those who are not militarily inclined, descriptions of battles are frequently unintelligible so I will be sparing with the details.

The two fleets lined up alongside each other, broadside to broadside, as was the usual tactic in those days. The Anne, under Captain Tyrrell, was the lead ship in the English blue squadron. The two lines of vessels were close to each other and the battle was fierce – so fierce that cannon shots were passing clean through both sides of the vessel they were aimed at. The Anne was in the thick of things in a battle which raged for three hours with the blue squadron seriously outnumbered and with several enemy ships able to concentrate their guns on her at the same time.

The Anne suffered badly and at about 1.00 p.m. her foremast came crashing down bringing sails and rigging with it. But there was no respite. Half an hour later the main topmast was shot away and over the next hour or two the Anne was slowly being shot to pieces. At least 100 men had been killed or wounded, with as much hideous damage caused by flying oak splinters as by cannon balls.

By this time the fleets had drifted further up the Channel and would have been visible to watchers all along the Sussex shore. The sounds of gunfire and the screams of the casualties would have been audible.

At about 3.00 p.m. the wind died away and there was a chance for the Anne to disengage and despite 6 feet of water in the hold it was possible to tow her away and attempt some basic repairs. At about this time the tide began to ebb, the French fleet drifted off and the Anglo Dutch fleet anchored. The sailors on the Anne then had the horrific task of attempting to clean up the shambles on the decks and try to deal with the shattered masts and rigging. Below deck, 29 men lay dead or dying. The horrors of 17^th century methods for attending to the wounded do not bear thinking about.

As the fleets drifted further apart the Anne was taken in tow just south of Hastings with the hope that she could be taken to Rye Harbour for safety but she was too deep in the water. By this time the wind had risen again and Captain Tyrrell had few options. Desperate, he decided to beach his ship as near shore as possible – which is how the Anne came to Pett Level.

Even at this stage Tyrrell hoped he might still save his ship. The wounded were got ashore together with some of her armaments and stores. However, about noon the following day the French entered the bay and as two of their ships came close in, Tyrrell set fire to the Anne himself in order to avoid his ship’s capture. She burned right down to the waterline and settled into the sand where she has lain ever since. The wreck is protected by Historic England and looked after by the Nautical Museums Trust, the charity which runs the Shipwreck Museum in Hastings.

The outcome of the battle was clearly a French victory for, temporarily at least, they controlled the Channel. However, they failed to press home their advantage and the French fleet returned home to Brest. No blame was placed on Tyrrell for the loss of his ship. Indeed within a day he was promised another command. He praised the conduct of his men many of whom asked to serve in his next ship.

Others weren’t as well thought of. The French Commander, Tourville, was criticised for not following up his victory and was relieved of his command. The English Admiral, Arthur Herbert, 1st Earl of Torrington – who had advised against engaging the superior French fleet but had been overruled by Queen Mary and her ministers – was court-martialled for his performance during the battle. Although he was acquitted, King William dismissed him from the service.

Less than two years later, after the Battle of Barfleur, the English fleet regained control of the Channel at the same time beginning a lengthy period as the world’s supreme maritime power.

Tyrrell died two years after the battle of Beachy Head, in November 1692, and is buried in his family chapel at St Mary’s Church, Oakley, Buckinghamshire.

The remains of the Anne in our shore are an important reminder of the start of England’s naval hegemony and England’s rise to international eminence.

[The wreck is rarely visible. It requires an extremely low tide and luck with the scouring effect of the wind and water to reveal the remains. These pictures were taken in 2013 when, briefly, it was possible to attempt archaeological survey work.]

By Haydon Luke