A Seaside Village and a Geological Oddity
Although we now live 220 miles apart, I have seen more of my sister Erica in the last few years than for a long time. That is good, I enjoy her company and that of Peter, her new(ish) husband. We went to stay for a few days and this post covers the places we visited.
East Sussex |
The County of East Sussex Heathfield to Rottingdean is approximately 25 miles (40 km) |
The map misleadingly shows Brighton and Hove as discrete dots. They are much larger than that and in 1997 were combined as a
single unitary authority. In January 2001 they became the City of Brighton and
Hove. By far the largest population centre in East Sussex, the city has 275,00 citizens and occupies the whole south west corner of the county, encompassing
Portslade, Patcham and Rottingdean.
Rottingdean
Brighton & Hove |
Despite its name, Rottingdean is a pretty village in the local style…
Rottingdean |
…with vernacular buildings of various ages sitting harmoniously together, though perhaps not looking their best on a cold, blustery February
day.
Rottingdean |
The main street ends at the beach where a seething, angry sea with an evident desire to invade the land, was thwarted only by a vicious undertow.
Rottingdean Beach |
An undercliff path heads off to Brighton Marina, 3km away, and on a better day….
Rottingdean Undercliff Walk |
The Grange
But it was not a better day so we headed inland. Rottingdean has more than just vernacular architecture, The Grange was built to replace the existing vicarage in the mid-1700s.
The Grange, Rottingdean |
The Reverend Thomas Hooker lived here from 1792 to 1838. A popular and charismatic figure, he established the first village school
and supported his parishioners in any way he could. Tea and brandy were
highly taxed, and after a bad harvest the poor could make enough money to survive
by smuggling these commodities into the country for the benefit if their richer
neighbours. The Rev Hooker acted as an outrider for the local smuggling gang.
The Grange passed into private hands in the late 1800s, just as Rottingdean was becoming an artistic colony. In 1920 the owners employed Sir Edwyn Lutyens to enlarge and remodel the house, and Gertrude Jekyll to redesign the garden.
In 1992, a charity now called Rottingdean Heritage took over The Grange and maintain the building as a local museum. Unfortunately,
the museum is closed on a Tuesday, but I am assured it is excellent on other
days of the week.
St Margaret's Church
Built on the site of an earlier Saxon church, St Margaret’s dates from around 1400 with a heavy makeover by Sir George Gilbert Scott
in 1856. Like many churches locally and elsewhere in south east England it is
built of flint with a stone dressing.
St Margaret's Rottingdean |
The church is not particularly memorable, inside or out….
St Margaret's Interior |
… except for the stained-glass windows designed by Edward Burne-Jones and built by William Morris.
William Morris/Edward Burne-Jones stained glass |
Burne-Jones was among the first artists to move to Rottingdean, and his ashes are interred in St Margaret’s cemetery, as are those
of his wife Georgiana. Georgiana was one of the four remarkable Macdonald
sisters; Alice was the mother of Rudyard Kipling, Agnes was a talented pianist
and married Edward Poynter, later President of the Royal Academy, and Louisa
was a writer and the mother of future prime minster Stanley Baldwin. What they
could have achieved in their own right if women were less constrained can only
be guessed at.
Peter, who has a wide musical taste and knowledge, was keen to tell us that Gary Moore is also buried here. Who he? I asked. Gary
Moore (1953-2011) was an Irish blues/jazz/rock guitarist who might have
achieved more success if he had decided which sort of music he wanted to play. He
worked with Phil Lynott and was best known for repeatedly joining and then
leaving Thin Lizzy.
Edward Burne-Jones and Rudyard Kipling
In 1880 Edward and Georgiana Burne-Jones brought Prospect House, the left-hand property of the trio below as a holiday home. Shortly
afterwards they bought Aubrey Cottage, the middle dwelling, knocked the two
together and renamed them North End House. They divided their time between
Rottingdean and London until Burne-Jones died in 1898. Georgiana died in 1920,
and in 1923 the new owners of North End House, Sir Roderick Jones and his wife,
novelist Enid Bagnold, added Gothic Cottage on the right to the other two.
North End House, Rottingdean |
They are now separate properties again with the former Gothic Cottage inappropriately named North End House.
In 1897, their nephew, Rudyard Kipling moved to Rottingdean and rented The Elms, a difficult house to photograph.
The Elms, Rottingdean |
Kipling’s Garden is lovingly tended by volunteers...
Kipling's Garden, Rottingdean |
… and is adjacent to Rottingdean Croquet club. I know of no other village with a croquet club.
Rottingdean Croquet Club |
In 1902 the Kiplings moved to Batemans, some 30 miles away, where they spent the rest of their lives. Batemans features in East Sussex (2): Batemans, Firle Beacon and the Long Man of Wilmington.
Those who looked closely at the photos (i.e. almost nobody) might have noticed the walls in the churchyard, Kipling's Garden and several ordinary houses. Such walls are common in these parts but I have not seen anything quite like them elsewhere - perhaps they are unique to Sussex.
A closer look at a Sussex wall |
The Devil’s Dyke
West Sussex |
Mid Sussex District |
The South Downs National Park with Brighton & Hove and the Devil's Dyke Marked Map by Nilfanion using OS OpenData |
The Devil’s Dyke Today
The road climbs onto a scarp, not quite at the southern edge of the downs. There was drizzle in the
air and a cold blustery wind, so we moved swiftly from car to pub (the Devil’s
Dyke, obviously) where a light lunch seemed appropriate.
Then we had to face the rigours of sight-seeing. Looking down the scarp, there should be (I think) a
view all the way to the sea, but not today.
Looking towards the sea, though visibility was limited |
The Devil’s Dyke itself is a steep sided dry valley on the other side of the scarp. It may not be the Grand Canyon, but it is a fair sized hole.
The Devil's Dyke |
Given that the surrounding hills are not of great height and scarps are only of moderate steepness what happened here? The official answer is that it dates from the end of the last ice age, but was created by meltwater running over saturated chalk rather than carved by ice. The thaw-freeze cycle as the world began to warm reduced the chalk to mush and the meltwater swept it away. That sounds convincing, but the whole of the South Downs is made of chalk, if it happened here, why did it not happen everywhere and level the hills?
The Devil’s Dyke 120 Years Ago
Big game hunter and traveller H.J. Hubbard bought the Dyke Estate in 1892. The London, Brighton and South
Coast Railway had built a branch line from Hove to the foot of the scarp in
1887, so he decided to turn Devil’s Dyke into what may have been the world’s
first theme park.
He built a camera obscura, fairground rides, an observatory, two bandstands and more. The venture
was phenomenally successful and on August Bank Holiday 1893, 30,000 people visited
the Dyke.
In 1894 Hubbard opened
the country’s first cable car to allow visitors to swing from one side of the dyke
to the other 200ft above the valley floor. Three years later he added a funicular
railway down into the dyke.
Funicular Railway, Devil's Dyke (Public Domain) |
Success is ever ephemeral. In 1909 both the cable car and funicular railway ceased operation. Now
there are just concrete footings to be seen and the remains of some of the
amusements
Some of Hubbard's remains |
The Devil’s Dyke Folk Lore
As I do not fully understand the geological creation of the dyke (my fault, not doubt), here is an alternative story. In the late 7th century, long after Rota had become established in his dean, the Kingdom of Sussex converted to Christianity. Being the last of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms to convert, it caused the Devil much heartache. He decided to dig a channel from the sea to the heart of Sussex and drown its inhabitants.
Seeing the Devil making
steady progress with his scheme, the holy hermit Cuthman of Steyning approached
the Devil with a wager. If the Devil could complete his channel in one night,
he could have Cuthman’s soul, if not he would go away and leave Sussex in
peace.
St Cuthman of Steyning, by Penny Reeve (2000) Photo:NeddySeagoon, used under Creative Commons |
The Devil set to with a will, his mighty spade throwing up the surrounding hills, Chanctonbury Ring, Firle
Beacon (see East
Sussex (2)) and more while one spectacular heave sent the land that is now
the Isle of Wight spinning into the sea. Cuthman bided his time. At midnight
he lit a candle and placed it in his window, thus persuading the local
cockerels that dawn had arrived. They started crowing, and the Devil, thinking he
had lost his wager, threw down his shovel and stalked off for a massive sulk.
That is not very convincing, I struggle to believe the Devil was that easy to fool. If you click
on Kanyakumari,
my post about the southernmost town of India, you will find the story of Shiva
being tricked out of marriage by the same device. Folk tales have a charming
naivety, but finding very similar stories from so far apart, maybe tells us something
about human nature.
Two humps in the bottom of the valley are said to be the graves of the Devil and his wife (who knew he was married?) Encouraging as it might be to know that the Devil is dead, the
bad news is that he would be brought to life should anyone run backward five
times round the humps while holding their breath. I don’t think I’ll fret about
it.
That was enough sight-seeing in this weather; we got into a nice warm car, and Peter drove us back to Heathfield.
Part 1:Bodiam and Rye (2020)
Part 2:Bateman's, Firle Beacon and the Long Man of Wilmington (2021)
Part 3: Battle and Hastings (2021)
Part 4: Rottingdean and The Devil's Dyke
Part 5: Lewes and Charleston (coming soon)
Thanks for your excellent map illustrations. This armchair traveler needs frequent orientation.
ReplyDelete