Showing posts with label UK-England-Sussex (East). Show all posts
Showing posts with label UK-England-Sussex (East). Show all posts

Sunday 12 September 2021

East Sussex (2): Bateman's, Firle Beacon and the Long Man of Wilmington

An Exceedingly Good House, A Stroll on the Downs and a Chalk Figure of Questionable Age


East Sussex
On Wednesday we returned to Staffordshire from Liverpool. On Friday we headed south to visit my sister who lives in Heathfield, East Sussex, a 220-mile journey which should have been possible in under 4 hours but took well over five. The wonder of engineering that is the M25 demands you stop and marvel at it, then move on a little, stop and marvel again, and repeat, and repeat, and…...

The County of East Sussex
Bateman's is near Burwash, 7m NE of Heathfield, Firle Beacon & Wilmington are 13m from Heathfield in the direction of Seaford

Saturday was a major family party, my sister and partner, Peter, Lynne and I, the three members of the next generation with their spouses, and the six children they have produced between them, five of them under five. What could possibly go wrong? Actually, nothing did. The organisation was superb (thank you, Erica) and everybody behaved themselves as was appropriate to their age.

This blog is about travel, not family – they are too important for me to mess round with their privacy - so leaving Saturday with a faint if unmerited glow of patriarchal pride, let us move on to Sunday.

Bateman’s

Once all members of the younger generations had departed, Peter drove the old codgers the 6 miles to Bateman’s near the village of Burwash.

Bateman's in the Sussex Countryside

Now owned by the National Trust, Bateman’s is described as a Jacobean Wealden Mansion, Wealden being the easternmost District of East Sussex. Constructed of sandstone, with two storeys and gables above, the main eastern frontage was probably designed to be symmetrical, but whether the northern wing was built and then torn down, or never built at all is unknown.

Bateman's main (east) entrance

The house was built for John Langham, a lawyer in 1634 and fifty years later was the home of ironmaster John Britten. It later became a farmhouse and sometime in the late 18th century acquired the name ‘Bateman’s’ though nobody knows why. It was in poor condition by the end of the 19th century.

Rudyard Kipling at Bateman's

Rudyard Kipling in 1895
(Public Domain)

The house is old enough and interesting enough as it is, but it has a second claim to fame. Few become rich by writing, but occasionally a writer catches something in the public psyche and, as a by-product, the money comes pouring in. JK Rowling was such a writer at the end of the 20th century, her equivalent 100 years earlier was Rudyard Kipling.

Born in Bombay in 1865, he was educated in England and returned to India in 1883 where he worked as a journalist, wrote in his spare time and a started to create a reputation. He left India in 1889 and returned to England via Burma, Japan and North America. In London He married Caroline Balestier in 1892. They honeymooned in Japan, visited Caroline’s family in Vermont and subsequently lived there until 1896. Kipling wrote prolifically during this time including the two Jungle Books, and the Barrack Room Ballads.

Back in England the Kiplings searched for somewhere to settle down and in 1902 they bought Bateman’s. The house was in need of renovation - it had no running water upstairs and no electricity anywhere when they bought it - but they were to stay there for the rest of their lives. Rudyard Kipling died in 1936 and Caroline donated Bateman’s to the National Trust on her death three years later.

Inside Bateman's

Some rooms look more comfortable than others….

Inside Bateman's

… but all look dark as the renovations included re-staining the panelling back to its ‘original’ colour. The dark panelling of 17th and 18th century houses, at a time when the only artificial light came from candles, always seemed perverse. It is now believed that the original staining had probably been much lighter, but had darkened over time. Not knowing this, early restorers, including the Kiplings, faithfully returned the panelling to a colour that had never been intended.

Inside Bateman's

The Kiplings decorated the dining room walls with 18th century English ‘Cordoba’ leather hangings, depicting birds and foliage. Covered with silver leaf and varnished to glisten like gold, Kipling described it as ‘lovelier than our wildest dreams.’ After attempting, not particularly successfully, to recreate the original brightness and freshness in my imagination, I struggle with Kipling’s description, but tastes are forever changing.

Dining room, Bateman's

Bateman’s and The Kipling Family

The Kiplings had three children. The eldest, Josephine, was born in Vermont in 1892 and died of pneumonia in 1899.

A second daughter, Elsie, was born in February 1896, and a son, John, in August 1897. Both subsequently lived at Bateman’s with their parents, but only John’s room is currently on show.

John Kipling's room, Bateman's
John Kipling, 1915 (Public Domain)

John was 16 when the Great War broke out. He attempted to join the Royal Navy, but was rejected because of his poor eyesight. He then tried the army and was similarly rejected. Believing the war to be ‘a crusade for civilisation against barbarism,’ his father pulled some strings and John was commissioned Second-Lieutenant in the Irish Guards two days before his 17th birthday. He was killed at the Battle of Loos in September 1915. His body was not identified until 1992.

Rudyard Kipling remained a supporter of the war but became a trenchant critic of the way it was fought. In Epitaphs of the War he wrote:

"If any question why we died
Tell them, because our fathers lied."

Elsie married George Bambridge in 1924. The marriage made her mistress of Wimpole Hall, the largest house in Cambridgeshire, so she was hardly inconvenienced when her parents donated Bateman’s to the National Trust. She lived at Wimpole Hall until her death in 1976 and, having no children, bequeathed Wimpole Hall to the National Trust as well.

The Nobel Prize and the Garden

In 1907 Kipling was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. He was the first writer in English to receive this honour and remains the youngest ever recipient.

He had described Bateman’s as "a good and peaceable place" but when bought the house had substantial grounds but no garden. The Nobel Prize funded the construction of a garden.

The lily pond, Bateman's garden

The Mill

Beyond the garden is Park Mill, built in 1750 on the site of an earlier mill. The National Trust restored the building and milling machinery in the 1970s.

The restored milling machinery, Park Mill, Bateman's

But Kipling, being a practical chap, had not bothered with the mill, but installed a turbine so the mill stream could supply him with electricity.

Kipling's turbine, Park Mill, Bateman's

From the mill we walked back through the grounds to the car park.

Bateman's and surrounding grounds

Kipling in Burwash

Peter drove us up to nearby Burwash, where Mr Kipling can be found warming a bench beside the High Street. He looked away from Lynne when she set next to him, but it was not rudeness, he just has a stiff neck.

Lynne and Rudyard Kipling, Burwash

When our daughter saw the picture, she said ‘I hope you told him to stop writing that terrible doggerel.’ Our daughter’s MA in Literature Studies convincingly outranks my qualifications for discussing poetry, but nonetheless I would (nervously) claim Kipling was a first-rate versifier, not a writer of doggerel.

As the ‘Poet of Empire’ Kipling ought to be out of fashion, but he isn't. His novels are in print, his stories are desecrated by the Disney Corporation and If is regularly voted the ‘nation’s favourite poem.’ He may have been a colonialist, it was intellectually impossible for an Englishman (indeed any European) of his time not to have been, but his colonial attitudes were always tempered by humanity and we should not blame him for the date of his birth. Popularity can be fleeting, but any writer being read 85 years after their death, is more than just ‘popular’. All right, I will come clean, for all his faults, I am a closet fan – well I was, now everyone knows.

When we, quite literally, took the road to Mandalay I wrote a post on his poem Mandalay (Click here for that post). The poem is ill-served by the familiar song simplifying and distorting Kipling’s intentions, but I admit that there is much wrong with it. Kipling’s geography is woeful and several lines sound impressive but mean little, but other lines are simply a pleasure to hear, and some say so much more and say it so eloquently.

From Burwash we returned to Heathfield for lunch, one of Erica’s fresh and innovative salads which I liked very much.

Later Peter drove us south to Firle Beacon.

Firle Beacon

Wealden

My last visit to the South Downs, was in 1962 - I was eleven and at Scout Camp. The Downs, with their long and regular wave-like shape were, I decided, rollers from the English Channel that had continued onto land. I remember us scrambling up the sides and running along the top like we were on the roof of the world, though they typically rise to only about 200m. Were we young enough to then roll down to the bottom?

Firle Beacon, 15km north east of Eastbourne and within the relatively new South Downs National Park, was closer to Rudyard Kipling’s description of "Our blunt, bow-headed whale-backed Downs" than my 60-year-old memories, though not too far from either.

This time, though, we did not scramble up the side, we drove along a minor road to a car park near the top. Then, we did not run along the whale-back, we walked, at a good pace, for just over a mile to the highest point, the Beacon at 217m, and then back to the car. Nobody suggested rolling down the side.

Peter and Lynne follow Erica and me towards Firle Beacon

It was a lovely walk, gently rising on the outward leg, over short grass, springy underfoot and past several earthworks, assorted tumuli and barrows according to the OS map. The only disappointment was that the slightly misty conditions spoiled the views across the surrounding land and the sea.

A disappointing view from Firle Beacon towards Cuckmere Haven and the sea

Wilmington

Back at the car park we descended to the A27, drove 3 or 4 miles east and found our way to the village of Wilmington which faces, Windover Hill, the next but one along the line from Firle Beacon.

The Long Man of Wilmington

The chalk downs of southern England have always been irresistible to those wishing to create a landmark. The oldest, the Uffington White Horse in Oxfordshire (we visited in July 2014), is late bronze/early iron age, the most recent, the Fovent Regimental Badges, are 20th century. White horses were popular in the 18th and 19th century, but there are only two human figures (other than riders), the Cerne Abbas Giant in Dorset and the Long Man of Wilmington.

The Long Man of Wilmington

Both were believed to be ancient, but as there is no written evidence for either before the 17th century they have been reassessed. Most chalk figures consist of trenches cut in the turf and backfilled with chalk rubble. Optically stimulated luminescence testing (no, I don’t know what it is either, but I am sure it is very clever) has suggested the Cerne Abbas figure may well be over a thousand years old. The Long Man may have started as chalk rubble, but now consists of whitewashed breezeblocks (which need a bit of a clean-up) so dating is problematic. The 70m high figure, drawn to look in proportion when seen from below, may have iron age, or even Neolithic, origins but it its earliest mention was in 1710.

The best view, more distant but with more context, is from the path leading from the village.

The Long Man and the path from Wilmington village

Wilmington Priory, Parish Church and Yew Tree

Wilmington Priory was founded in the mid-11th century as an ‘alien cell’ (a small overseas off-shoot) of a Norman Benedictine Abbey. Enlarged in 1243 it became a grange for the local Benedictine held lands. Alien cells were suppressed in the 100 Years’ War and the Priory passed to Chichester Cathedral and then to the Sackville family after the Dissolution of the Monasteries. Today it is owned by the Landmark Trust and consists of a few broken down walls and a 14th-century house used as a holiday let.

Some remains of Wilmington Priory

The Church of St Mary and St Peter was built in the late 11th century as a combined Priory/Parish church. It has inevitably seen much restoration and some rebuilding in 800 years’ service to the community.

The massive yew tree outside the church is even older, dendrochronology suggesting it has been growing here for some 1,600 years old.

The 1,600 year old Wilmington yew tree

It is not looking too bad, considering.

That finished the days sight-seeing. The convivial evening involved another fine dinner, featuring duck legs - always a favourite.

East Sussex

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)

Monday 2 March 2020

East Sussex (1): Bodiam and Rye

A Norman Stronghold and a Former Royal Port


East Sussex
We spent a very pleasant few days with my sister and her partner who have recently moved to Heathfield in East Sussex, an area I have never previously visited.

The half hour drive from their home to Bodiam was through a well populated rural area, with no towns on the route but many villages, some straggling into each other. With occasional views over the Rother Valley and the High Weald, and an air of comfortable affluence, East Sussex looked as good as anywhere can on a dour March day.

The County of East Sussex
In this post we travel 15miles east from Heathfield to Bodiam, just beyond Robertsbridge, then a further 13 miles east to Rye

Bodiam

Bodiam sits beside the River Rother ten miles north of Hastings. The river rises in the (not very) High Weald and reaches Bodiam half way through its 35-mile progress to the sea at Rye. Bodiam has an elevation of only 5m so the second half of its journey – much of it forming the Sussex/Kent border - is a land of marshes and sluice gates.

The River Rother, looking downstream from Bodiam
It is running high after the wettest February on record, but is not using much of the available flood plain at this point

Bodiam Castle

Bodiam is tiny with no obvious centre, but Bodiam Castle is difficult to miss.

Bodiam Castle

Edward Dalyngrigge was born about 1346, the second son of Roger Dalyngrigge who held the manor of Bolebrook in Sussex. As a second son he had to make his own way and the Hundred Years War provided endless opportunities for the energetic and ruthless. In 1367 when he was 21 (nine years younger than the war) Edward travelled to France and joined the Free Company of Sir Robert Knolles – a band of mercenaries who killed and plundered with the tacit consent of the English authorities. By 1377 this honourable calling had given Edward sufficient standing and wealth to return to Sussex and marry Elizabeth Wardedieu, heiress to the manor of Bodiam.

Over the next ten years Dalyngrigge became one of the most influential men in the county. In 1385, with the prospect of a French invasion, he applied for and was granted the right to fortify and crenelate his manor house, but instead of doing that he built a brand new castle on the flat land by the river – then navigable as far as Bodiam and considered a possible invasion route into the country.

A commanding view of the river and surrounding land from the battlements of Bodiam Castle

The next year Dalyngrigge was appointed Captain of Brest and missed most of the building work but had returned from France by 1390 when the castle was finished. It was designed for comfortable living as well as defence, but he had little time to enjoy it as he died in 1393.

The castle has the usual defensive features; a walled rectangle with round towers at the corners and rectangular towers between, a portcullis of iron-clad oak (possibly the oldest in the country) in the gatehouse and machicolations and murder holes in the gatehouse and over the postern tower entrance at the rear. A barbican, of which little remains, stood in the bridge which originally turned at right angles, so unwelcome visitors would have to fight their way into the barbican while being showered with arrows from the castle battlements. And then there is the moat, defensive no doubt, but it is hard to believe Sir Edward gave no thought to how splendid his castle would look in its watery setting.

The entrance bridge used to turn at right angles at the Barbican, Bodiam Castle

Inside there is a Great Hall,…

Great Hall, Bodiam Castle

…a kitchen…

Kitchen, Bodiam Castle

…and a well.

Well, Bodiam Castle, Fed by springs and the moat the well remains full - even if the water looks unattractive

There were comfortable apartments for the Lord and Lady and an astonishing 33 fire-places, indicating that the builder was both immensely rich and valued his comfort. The retainers’ hall next to the kitchen could accommodate 80 servants, while the maximum strength of the garrison was 20.

Dalyngrigge was right to concentrate on comfort as the castle never saw action. When the Dalyngrigges ran out of heirs, Bodiam passed by marriage to the Lewknor family.  Sir Thomas Lewknor supported the Lancastrians in the Wars of the Roses but in 1483 quickly surrendered when a Yorkist force was sent to take the castle. Two years later the Battle of Bosworth finished the Yorkists and he quietly re-occupied his castle. Bodiam played no part in the Civil War but like all castles it was slighted in the aftermath. In the 19th century it was bought by Lord Curzon who carried out major renovations and left the castle to the National Trust when he died in 1925.

The Wines of Bodiam

For brief moments the sun had shone and in sheltered corners we had felt its warmth, but in the numerous unsheltered corners biting wind had been the morning’s main feature. We left the castle in need of a warming drink and found ourselves crossing the moat towards a south facing slope planted with vines. Bodiam Castle Vineyard is managed by Sedlescombe Vineyards, who have been making wines in Sedlescombe, 5 miles to the south, since 1979. Oastbrook Estate also makes wine in Bodiam and nearby New Hall Farm was named the region’s best winegrower by Vineyard Magazine in 2019.

Bodiam Castle Vineyards

East Sussex has traditionally been hop country, but now it seems easier find vineyards than hop fields, though oasthouses remain plentiful; the tops of three can be seen poking up behind the vineyard in the photo above. Whether the growth of winemaking in England’s warmest region is entirely due to fashion, or has enjoyed a boost from our changing climate (even disasters have an up-side) seemed a moot point on a day when local winter weather trumped a warming global climate.

Lunch at The White Dog Inn, Ewhurst Green

Ewhurst Green is a few minutes’ drive in the direction of Northiam (-iam is a local variation on the ubiquitous -ham, meaning homestead).

The White Dog describes itself as a traditional, country Free House. The building is rambling and of various ages, the beer is well kept and the food excellent.

Pub menus now routinely include words like ‘seasonal’ and ‘locally-produced’ but it’s often only lip service. The White Dog has a blackboard telling you exactly how local – bread from the village bakery (they are lucky to have one!) cheese from Twineham Grange and more. Peter and Erica were happy with their soups, Lynne’s pork pie was made in-house as was the pear chutney and my Rye Bay fish & mussel chowder came close to perfection. It is not a complicated dish and should not be difficult to make, requiring only the freshest of ingredients and a cook who appreciates them. It is not as easy a combination to find as it should be, but The White Dog had it.

Peter, Erica & Lynne (I'm represented by a bowl of chowder),The White Dog Inn, Ewhurst Green

A word of praise, too, for Welton’s Six Nations IPA, produced for the rugby tournament. Welton’s in Horsham has brewed artisan beers since 1995, and  pale, fresh and well-hopped (with six different varieties, no less) Six Nations, is ideal for fish chowder.

I should add that my sister produced a top-quality dinner each evening we were there, for which I was duly grateful. If I appear to be lavishing more praise on The White Dog, it is only that anybody can drop in there for lunch or dinner while Erica might be a little non-plussed by strangers arriving demanding food.

Rye

The small town and once important port of Rye is ten miles from Ewhurst Green.

The Cinque Ports

In medieval times the five cinque ports of Kent and East Sussex provided ships for the king and in return were granted certain privileges and tax exemptions. Rye was not on the original list, but when a storm moved the mouth of the Rother it replaced New Romsey which was suddenly no longer a port. The cinque ports had ceased to be important by Tudor times, their harbours – those that were not silted up – were inadequate for Tudor ships. Now, only Dover remans an important port, but much of the pageantry and ceremony survives.

Gibbet Marsh and John Breads

As in most old towns, parking can be difficult but Peter’s local knowledge took us easily to the convenient, if gruesomely name, Gibbet Marsh car park. A windmill has overlooked the marsh since 1596, but the current building, an inaccurate replica of a smock mill, was built in 1933 and is now a B&B.

Gibbet Marsh and Windmill

In the 1740s Rye’s mayor and chief magistrate, James Lamb, convicted John Breads, a local butcher, of using false weights. An unhappy Breads swore revenge in front of his drinking friends.

Learning that, Lamb would be attending a party on board a docked ship, Breads took a knife and hid in the churchyard through which Lamb would return home. The Mayor, though, was feeling unwell and asked his brother-in-law Allen Grebell to attend in his stead, lending him his coat as it was a cold night.

Well after midnight Grebell was staggering home through the churchyard of St Mary the Virgin when Breads attacked him, stabbing him several times. Breads threw his knife into the bushes and made off – perhaps forgetting his name was carved on the handle.

Grebell struggled home, but was dead before morning.

Breads was soon arrested (believing he had killed the Mayor, he had been drunkenly boasting that ‘butchers kill Lambs’) and hauled before the magistrate - James Lamb himself. Even by 18th century standards such lack of impartiality was scandalous but when the accused shouted “I did not mean to kill Grebell – it was you I meant it for and I would murder you now if I could!” Breads was toast.

He was hanged on the 8th of June 1743, at the town gallows on front of the windmill. Lamb proved that he too could bear a grudge as his sentence included Breads’ body being exhibited in a gibbet for 50 years. After 16 years only his skull was left, the rest of him had been stolen piece by piece - ground bones make a sure cure for rheumatism. The gibbet and skull are kept in the Town Hall, but are not exhibited.

Mermaid Street, Rye

I like to avoid journalese; I did not refer to the events above as a 'brutal' murder - why point out the obvious - small towns are not lazily descibe as ‘sleepy' and nothing in this blog is ever ‘iconic’ – unless it actually is an icon (i.e. a devotional painting of Christ or another holy figure, typically executed on wood and used ceremonially in the Byzantine and other Eastern Churches) but when it comes to Rye I can find no word more appropriate (though I shudder gently) than quaint. Indeed, nothing is quainter than Mermaid Street…

Mermaid Street, Rye

…from top to bottom it is a walk through Victorian England, albeit a sanitised version (no paupers, horse dung or sailors with wooden legs). Perhaps Dickensian England is more precise, Dickens spent his childhood in Kent and the distinctive vernacular architecture of England’s south eastern corner would have been familiar to him.

Mermaid Street, Rye

We missed Lamb House, home of Henry James from 1897-1914. I find Dickens and James equally unreadable (so many words!) but that is my problem.

A corner of Rye near the church

We passed the churchyard, not yet knowing about the murder, to Rye Castle Museum.

Rye Castle, Museum

Ypres Tower, Rye Castle Museum

Although a little older than Bodiam, it is hardly a serious castle. In 1377, during the Hundred Years War, a French force arrived and burnt the town. The castle’s hopelessly outnumbered garrison stayed indoors and let them get on with it.

The single tower, known as the Ypres Tower since it was bought by John de Iprys (sic) in 1430, has spent most of its life as the town gaol and is now a museum. A replica gibbet with a skeleton illustrates the John Breads story, but perhaps the most interesting exhibit shows the changing coastline over the last two millennia. The sea once came up to the castle walls, but is now over 3km away and there is now a small marina where once there was an important port.

Looking down the River Rother towards the coast from Rye Castle

In the 19th century an exercise yard was added – now a herb garden – and a small tower for women prisoners.

Excercise yard and women's tower, Rye Castle

St Mary the Virgin, Rye

The church of St Mary the Virgin, with its squat tower and walls supported by flying buttresses, dates from the early 12th century.

St Mary the Virigin, Rye

Its ‘new’ clock was installed in 1561/2…

The New Clock, St Mary the Virgin, Rye

…though the long pendulum which can be seen swinging below the tower was added in 1760.

The pendulum of the new clock swinging below the tower, St Mary the Virgin, Rye

Paul Nash

House of Paul Nash, Rye


From the church we made our way downhill, past the house where Paul Nash lived in the 1920s and 30s. Nash was establishing a career as an artist before the First World War and was appointed an official war artist in 1917 while recovering from injuries received at Ypres. Returning to Belgium he became, like many others, increasingly disillusioned. His work there made his career, but took a long-term toll on his health.

We are Making a New World by Paul Nash
In the collection of the Imperial War Museum, © IWM (Art.IWM ART 1146)

The Landgate, Rye

We finished our amble at the Landgate. Built in 1329 it is the only one of the four town gates to have survived. With a drawbridge, a portcullis and a chamber over the tower it would have been a formidable defence - if Rye had ever been attacked from the land.

Landgate, Rye

So, we returned home with Peter and Erica and later enjoyed a fine dinner and a convivial evening.

East Sussex

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)