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

From the 8^th Earl Waldegrave back to King James II and then back to William the Conqueror

By Paul Draper

Did you know that the great x3 grandson of King James II of England is buried at St. Andrew’s, Fairlight?

When we look at the burial register covering 1813-1881, we find William, the 8^th Earl Waldegrave, R.N., C.B. buried at St. Andrew’s 2^nd November 1859:-

                                                    William, the 8^th Earl Waldegrave

The Earls of Waldegrave, a current line of the peerage of the United Kingdom, are a well documented family with clear lineage and the Waldegraves themselves are worthy of a full study :

Williams’s great grandfather was James, the 1^st Earl Waldegrave. (William’s father was the 4^th Earl and his father the 3^rd Earl, such was the law of succession of hereditary titles!).

James Waldegrave, was born was in 1684, the son of Henry, the 1^st Baron Waldegrave and his wife Henrietta FitzJames. The new honorary title of Earl Waldegrave was thus created.

Henrietta is the important link in this story – She was born in 1667, one of four recognised illegitimate children of King James II of England and his mistress, Arabella Churchill.

King James II actually had two wives, Anne Hyde and Mary of Modena and they produced multiple children by James II, the majority of whom died in childbirth or infancy. The Royal line continued with Mary II, Queen of England, Scotland and Ireland and then later, Anne, Queen of Great Britain. (This was the period of William of Orange and the Battle of the Boyne)

However, our interest is from the illegitimate line. Arabella herself was part of the family line of Sir Winston Churchill, but she did not marry James – indeed her father was also actually named Sir Winston Churchill.

Returning to our celebrity grave, William the 8^th Earl Waldegrave was widowed when his first wife, Elizabeth (nee Whitbread) and the mother of his eight children, died on 1^st March 1843.

He then re-married a widow, Mrs. Sarah Milward (nee Whitear), on 8^th December 1846 at Marylebone, London.

This is the Sarah Milward who in April 1845 had laid the foundation stone for the new St. Andrew’s church. Indeed to demonstrate the importance of this timing for St. Andrew’s, a statement was produced in 1848 to list how the funds were raised to rebuild the church and it lists ‘The Countess Waldegrave’ as the main contributor, donating £1,000 (although she was still the wealthy widow, Mrs Sarah Milward in 1845).

Sarah, who had inherited the Milward Estate from her first husband, Edward Milward, made many donations to local churches in the Hastings area, including, Halton, St. Mary Magdalen, Holy Trinity, Christ Church Ore, St. Matthew Silverhill, St. John Hollington, St. Helen Ore and others. Truly a very generous lady dedicated to the churches of Hastings and the neighbouring areas.

Sarah outlived the 8^th Earl by thirteen years and died in 1873. She was buried on 25^th April 1873 with the 8^th Earl at Fairlight.

See her burial entry from the registers below:-

Below is a photograph of their grave taken in 2016 clearance of their grave:-

The engraving is in two separate bands that circumnavigate the grave.

The inscription is as follows:

Upper band: “Here rest in the hope of a / joyful resurrection the bodies of William 8^th Earl Waldegrave, C.B., Vice Admiral / Lord of Radstock / Hall Essex 27^th October 1788 Died at Hastings 24^th October 1859”

Lower band: “ Also of Sarah his 2^nd wife / first of Edward Milward Esq. of Hastings and Daughter of the Revd Prebendary Whitear / born of Hastings 17^th / January 1787 Died 18^th April 1873. Jesus said I am the resurrection and the life John XI 25”

The Royal story does not end with James II. In fact, if we trace back his bloodline, one generation at a time, for another seventeen generations it leads to William I, better known as William the Conqueror!

We will not list all of the seventeen steps in this article, but can tell you a few:

James II’s father was King Charles I – we all know what happened to him.

James II’s grandfather was King James I of England and VI of Scotland.

James II’s great grandmother was Mary, Queen of Scots – again we know what happened to her.

Going further back in his bloodline we find another eight Kings of England – King Edward the IV, the III, the II and the I, together with King Henry the VII, the II and the I and the one and only King John. There are several generations where the male was not a King, but the lineage returns to the monarchy.

The list reads like a who’s who of our monarchy with a few notable exceptions. In fact, the current Queen of England, Elizabeth II, is also a descendant of King James I. As a result, the current Earl Waldegrave, James, the 13^th Earl is the 10^th cousin, once removed of our Queen.

Therefore, in the current year of 2016 when we are celebrating the 950^th anniversary of the Battle of Hastings, we can claim that we, in Fairlight, have the grave of a direct descendant of William the Conqueror.

A pamphlet detailing the more notable graves at St. Andrew’s is available on request or from inside the church.

(If anyone has any further information or wants to discuss matters in greater detail, please contact me on telephone number 01424 814154. Email available on request)

By Paul Draper (April 2016)

The Fairlight General Stores and Post Office, normally known as The Post Office

By Paul Draper

(The following article was written on 25^th July 2016, immediately before Graeme and Leonie Gambrell took over the Fairlight General Stores and Post Office.)

With his permission, I quote the Village Voice article from the Rye Observer of 22^nd July 2016, written by Keith Pollard:-

“Under new management: Our Post Office and General Store has been run by Ken and Pam Dixon since July 2003, although it appeared a year ago that changes would happen with Community involvement being foremost and paramount. Despite successive assessors declaring Fairlight to be ideal for such a step, somewhere along the way the government guidelines flattered to deceive, (now there’s a surprise!) and the whole enterprise fell by the wayside. With Ken and Pam keen to retire, we now that Mr and Mrs Gambrell will be taking over the business on Monday, August 1^st.

They are new to the business, and have agreed to the Post Office section becoming a “Local Plus” operation, which means that they will still offer all the services that are obtainable at present and these will now be offered all the while the shop is open (early to late, and through lunch too!)

In addition to the four major staples – bread, milk, papers and bacon – the Post Office and General Stores has sold countless tickets for countless events in the village, an absolutely invaluable village resource, without which a number of organisations would have been struggling. We thank Ken and Pam for their input into the life of our village over the past thirteen years, and wish them a happy retirement. In turn, we welcome the Gambrells – and wish them all the best!”

Keith Pollard.

At this important time, we thought it would be interesting to have a brief look back at the General Stores since it started in about 1924.

We do not know the precise date when the business started, but following the 1917 sale of the Waites Farm lands and some interim owners, new properties started to be built in Fairlight Cove from about 1923.

The Fairlight Land Tax returns for the year 1923-24 reveal the following entry :-

“General Stores, Waits Lane, house and shop, occupier A J Lee and owner R G Philp.”

(nb. Note misspelling of Waites Lane. Also, the garage next door is given as being in ‘Stonelynk Lane’, the early name for Battery Hill. The two road names are the wrong way round. Also note the name R G Philp – he was the principal landowner who controlled the early development of Fairlight Cove).

The 1924 Kelly’s directory does not list it and directs business to Ore Post Office, however the 1930 Kelly’s shows ‘Lea Archbld, Jn. shopkpr & post off’. So from this, we know that the business was started by one Archibald Lee (Lea?). Does anyone know what happened to him?

We have an early photograph (see above). The clues in the photograph suggest it was taken about 1926 or a little later. You will notice the edge of Fairlight garage to the extreme left, the front of a delivery bike to the extreme right and a matching set of five tin baths for sale in the foreground. Also to the left, next to the postbox is the earliest type of telephone box – a K1, the model that preceded the iconic red K2 box that was only introduced from 1926. Over the door the already faded sign starts ‘Fairlight Post…..’. We can also see a cap over a well, a common feature of early Fairlight. Finally you will notice that the building stands alone. The two houses that now stand either side were added in the 1950s when the owner decided to build them on his land for his children.

Adverts have often appeared in village magazines and newsletters. I attach a small sample, including one from 1953, in the Coronation brochure, a directory from 1989 and another from 2006. You will notice that the services on offer have increased over the years. It is also interesting to notice the early telephone number ‘Pett 3221’. For many years, all Fairlight telephone numbers started ‘Pett…..’ as the telephone exchange for the whole area was located in Pett.

Not much information is available for the interim years, but the 1990 Women’s Institute album held by the FRA contains a photograph with a brief explanation. (see attached). Rachel and Derek Bliss were the owners immediately before Ken and Pam.

There are many anecdotes to remember but the Hastings and St. Leonards Observer reports on an attempted ram-raid in their issue of 8^th July 2004. Not what we want or expect in our quiet and peaceful village!

So we must protect and enjoy the centre of our local community. The General Store and Post Office has been with us from the beginning of Fairlight Cove. During it’s time, many small businesses, shops, cafes, tea-rooms have appeared and served our community, but they have nearly all gone. Who remembers the Circle Shop, the Corner Shop, the Woolpack, Crossways Restaurant, Aunt Lavinia’s Tea-room, Windy Ridge Tea-room, etc., etc.?

If anyone has any old photographs or details of the Post Office that they are happy to share, can they please contact us and we will try and print them in later issues of Fairlight News.

By Paul Draper

By Paul Draper

Have you ever wondered what is the oldest, man-made object in Fairlight still in regular use?

The answer is the toll bell in St. Andrew’s Church.

It’s a bell!

In the St. Andrew’s belfry we now find nine bells. The toll bell survived the old church and when the current church was completed in 1846 it hung on its own in the new belfry. It hung on its own for over a hundred years until, in 1950, a new peel of eight bells was added.

The bell is 32” in diameter and weighs approximately 8 hundredweight. It is believed to have been manufactured by a William Burford, a bellmaker from London. Neither his name nor the year of casting are to be found on the bell, but the experts believe that he produced our bell during the years 1386 to 1392. Similar bells were also supplied to Westfield, Pevensey and Sidlesham. All of these bells are inscribed with the words SIT NOMEN DOMINI BENEDICTUM (Blessed be the name of the Lord) and these words circle the bells near the top. Our bell has a cross between the words benedictum and sit and a crown between the other words.

It is thought that our bell was not always alone. Although in the year 1686 it was found on the ground with another bell alongside it in pieces, it is believed that originally there must have been three. However, no records exist to substantiate this belief.

The eight bells were added in 1950 in memory of Mrs Avice Mabel Haalmeyer who had died in 1943. These bells were cast by Gillett and Johnson Ltd of Croydon and are not rung by pulling ropes but are operated by a clavier apparatus (a keyboard). The whole peel weighs forty one hundredweight with the largest being 38.375” in diameter and weighing 10.5 hundredweight. When you climb the tower at St. Andrew’s anyone can pause on the way to play the bells.

In 2007 all the bell support structures were in need of a thorough clean and overhaul. As part of this operation the toll bell was moved from the top of the belfry and mounted alongside the peel of eight on its own wooden beam.

So the next time you hear the bells ringing just spare a thought for the quality of the original manufacturer.

By Paul Draper (June 2015)

By Paul Draper

As you will all know these have been difficult and worrying times as we all try to protect ourselves, our families and our neighbours from Covid 19. It has meant the postponement and cancellation of so many carefully planned events. We, Fairlight History Group, had a full program of meetings for 2020 but we have had to put everything on hold until we can get back to something approaching normality. We will get there but not just yet.

On our calendar for 15th July we had scheduled a trip down the cliffs to the beach and a search for Iguanadon footprints and anything else of interest. There were too many problems to overcome with Covid 19 restrictions and that was before we considered the Health and Safety aspect for our members. Accordingly the organised trip, to be led by well-known local geologist, Ken Brooks, was postponed ufn.

However, three of us, Ken, Haydon Luke and I, decided to have a recce of the beach and the cliffs but using the much longer and safer route of Fairlight Glen. The weather was warm and overcast but the rain promised to hold off. We also knew that the tides were suitable for our trip on the afternoon of the 15th July, so we decided to go ahead.

We parked our cars near Place Farm, behind Fairlight Place and set off to commence the long descent of Fairlight Glen. (The region is all part of Hastings Country Park so Ken had notified Hastings of our plans). The glen is very green and lush and the descent past the old favourite visitor spot of the Dripping Well is very enjoyable. If you have seen the multitude of old postcards picturing the Dripping Well in the past, it was a short but scenic small waterfall but clearly it is no longer the same. Additionally, just around the corner from this was the other favourite with visitors, the Lovers’ Seat. This was a prominent flat rock that protruded from the cliff face, where people used to gather and look at the views out to sea. Sadly many years ago this was a victim of cliff erosion and now nothing remains. There is a whole story attached to the Lovers’ Seat and a whole postcard industry once existed around this location. There was even a chalet located nearby serving teas and all other refreshments. This has also long since gone.

After walking past a sign that said ‘Footpath closed’ and carefully negotiating the steps carved out of the clay, we clambered across some slippery stones placed to guide you and eventually we reached the beach. This last section is potentially hazardous so if you ever attempt it, approach with caution. We noticed a second sign painted on a piece of wood that said ‘Clothing Optional Beach Ahead’, but fortunately there were no takers on the day. Then we stepped on to the beach.

We headed east along the shingle, stopping to examine some of the rocks and look up at the cliffs. It is a fascinating scene, but walking on shingle is hard work. Although we only walked about a mile, it felt like ten. All along the beach there are rocks of all sizes, some as large as a small garden shed. Most are still located at the foot of the cliffs from which they have recently fallen, but some have moved out and into the sea. Also there are some wide areas of glacier-like slides consisting of clay, mud and smaller rocks lining the beach, creating a strange atmosphere. Eventually we passed a feature known as Lee Ness Ledge and then walked the last few hundred yards to the rocks previously known to have contained the footprints. During this last section we were watched by a seal who kept surfacing and calling to us.

Ken raced ahead to the first of these rocks and started his search. Storms and heavy seas continually move the rocks and cause further erosion and Ken could not find the footprint he had seen last time. However, after a few minutes there was the rock of all rocks! It is propped up at about sixty degrees with three perfect footprints facing out towards the sea. The specimen is the best Ken has seen in his long history of studying this area. It presented itself perfectly for photography, facing due south. As you can see from the attached it is undeniably a set of three footprints, with a much fainter possible fourth. They are all in a line and give a clear indication of the size of this creature. The two photographs show the location of the rock, relative to the cliff and the detail of the footprints. In the middle of the rock you can see a ten centimetre measure, with black and white squares at centimetre intervals. From this you can determine the size of each footprint.

Although the remains of many different species have been found in our general area, the Iguanadon is by far the largest and best known. They lived between about 150 and 90 million years ago in the Cretaceous period and, despite their upright appearance they were herbivores.

Sadly, these footprints only become exposed from time to time by the ongoing erosion of our cliffs. Rocks will continue to fall but we must emphasise just how potentially dangerous this environment can be. Most of the time, the cliffs look static and stable, but rocks can become detached at any time, so always be vigilant.

If you want to see these footprints with your own eyes, we can give you details of their approximate location. They are located on the boundary between Fairlight and Hastings, to the south of the last of the houses in Channel Way. However, with no visible reference points on the beach, this might vary by up to a hundred yards or two. Please contact us for further assistance.

We know that these amazing footprints have been seen by the residents of Fairlight for a long time, but they always wash away eventually and are lost to us. If you have photographs or stories you wish to share, kindly let us know.

We hope to re-organise our trip to see these again, so please keep in touch.

By Paul Draper (July 2020)