The Ancient Town of Seaford
This blog takes its title from an article in the November 1895 edition of The Art Journal written and illustrated by the artist and designer George Charles Haité.
His thoughts on the impact of 'recent' changes to the local scene can be better appreciated when compared with the wonderful 1824 drawing of Seaford by John Constable reviewed in our second section.
Other images in the form of drawings by various early artists and photographers have also been used to show how Haité foretold, in 1895, the direction of development which would result in the urbanisation of the coastal and down-land environment.
In September 1894 Haité visited the coastal town of Seaford situated on the South Downs and at the eastern end of Seaford Bay.
He produced at least 12 drawings and some of them were used in his article, "The Ancient Town of Seaford, Sussex" published in the November 1895 edition of 'The Art Journal'. His drawings were reproduced as engravings.
The Art Journal was the most important British 19th century magazine on art. Its pages were approx. 35 x 26 cm (13 x 10 inches) and on good quality paper.
In addition to drawings I will be showing interesting 18th and 19th Century images including etchings, photographs and artworks where they illustrate the thrust of the Haité article.
All of the drawings, etchings and photographs, as produced on this blog, are subject to copyright and may not be reproduced without written permission.
Haité begins with the statement: "It is a sad reflection, based unfortunately, upon experience, that our quaint old seaport towns and market-places will soon exist only in the memory of those fortunate enough to have seen them..."
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| Article from November 1895 edition of The Art Journal by courtesy of Ben Franks |
I include below a transcription of the above image files to make the article easier to read.
THE ANCIENT TOWN OF SEAFORD IN SUSSEX BY GEORGE CHARLES HAITÉ
THE ART JOURNAL - NOVEMBER 1895
It is a sad reflection, based, unfortunately, upon experience, that our quaint old seaport towns and market-places will soon exist only in the memory of those fortunate enough to have seen them, or enshrined in magazines such as this, where possibly receiving no great attention at the present from a public surfeited with what has been aptly described as cheap literature, will, in years to come, be of immeasurable value as a record, even as we now value the description of Old London preserved to us by the writers of a bygone age. Much of the pleasure derived by lovers of the picturesque from discovering and sketching the old houses and cottages still to be found in our towns and villages, is neutralised by the knowledge that they are soon---soon to be swept away.
As I stood upon the Esplanade of Seaford, pencil in hand, and sketched the old church and row of humble fisher-folk's cottages, alas! soon to come down, the chimes from the old tower seemed to tune themselves to the rhythm of my thoughts, and rang pathetically over all that remains of the old-world place. Moreover, I was moved to pity its present plight almost as if it were human.
The few bits of old Seaford are going, and going fast. “It has been fortunate enough to have attracted of late a well-deserved degree of attention as a watering-place, and has already been provided with an admirably-constructed esplanade, with a carriage-drive bordering on it of three-quarters of a mile in length; “and as a further concession to fashion, “several of the old streets are being converted into a broad and handsome thoroughfare of modern houses and shops, all of which are rapidly tenanted.” Thus the descriptive guide to Seaford and Newhaven. To those lovers of the old and picturesque England of our forefathers, it is a painful fact that Seaford is modernising rapidly, and will soon achieve greatness, and, to quote the guide again, “will possess a completed front, which will be an ornament to the town, and a delight to the visitors.” It may become a second Eastbourne, or a small Brighton; but are that is accomplished, it will have lost all claim to individuality—the historic old town will have utterly disappeared. Indeed a foretaste of its so-called future greatness already exists; it has a Hotel on the Esplanade with table d’ hote and a "complete system of fire-hydrants and fittings.” Also no less than three al-fresco performances daily in the front thereof, at which the inspiring chorus of “Liza’s Tootsies, Liza’s Feet,” is indulged in, and never fails to hold the majority of the Seaford visitors in an admiring and appreciative audience; while as a concession to high art, a more pretentious ballad entertainment is provided by a tenor and soprano accompanied by a pianoforte orchestra on wheels! But no doubt can exist as to which is the most popular and paying entertainment. Either of these methods of entertaining visitors is sufficient to keep them on the sea-front, and the “admirably-constructed esplanade and carriage-drive" (where of all places in the world, one would least expect a carriage to be), when there are walks and drives to neighbouring villages, or over nature’s carpet across the downs to Eastbourne, if needs be for upwards of nine miles distant, with a glorious ever-changing seascape on the same hand, and on the other superb undulating country of grassy downs, cornfields, and nestling homesteads, with the rabbits crossing one’s path, and the partridge calling in the stubble---over land with historic records of two thousand years or more.
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On the summit of the East Cliff, which rises some 280 feet above the sea-level are the remains of the earthworks of an old Roman Camp. The cliff, facing seawards, presents a precipitous of glittering chalk and flint. To the east, the eye travels over undulating downs towards Eastbourne; the Belle Tout tower may be seen, and the station at Beachy Head in the distance; while intervening is the range of white cliffs known as the Seven Sisters doomed by some occult power, so the legend runs, to so remain until seven princes shall relieve them from their bondage. To the west lies the Castle Hill and entrance to Newhaven Harbour. The Brighton Downs and the South Downs run to the north and north-east, their undulating lines dipping into the fertile Cuckmere valley, doubtless the bed of some mighty river in the days of the early Briton.
Still looking towards the west, at the foot of the Downs nestles the little town of Seaford, with its church standing guardian-like in the centre, and the line where the bay once swept is easily discernible. It is curious to find, after all the efforts to make Seaford fashionable, this apparent contradiction in the local guide. “The claims of Seaford as a desirable seaside resort are now generally acknowledged by the many visitors, who turn aside from the more fashionable rivals to crowd the little town in the season.” Would that the objects of interest and beauty which gave it a character its more fashionable might well envy, had been preserved. The natural formation of the Bay has been destroyed by the straight esplanade so insisted upon, and possibly necessary; but what of the little town itself shut out and buried the blocks of brick and mortar that line the seafront, and that look with unsympathetic eyes upon the sea, the same sea that knew the town centuries ago, in the early British, Roman, and Saxon days, when it formed its own wall of shingle, and brought into the bay ships of strange shapes and from divers lands, laden with stranger cargoes. When, centuries ago, Seaford Head as a bold headland stretched out into the sea, nearly meeting Castle Hill at Newhaven, thus sheltering the bay and little town from southerly winds. When sometimes it is true, as recent history tells us, overrode its self-imposed restraints and flooded the cottages and streets---a tyrant for a time but ever the harvest field of the fisher-folk---the larger part of themselves responding to a sentiment and a longing that we of the mainland can never understand or appreciate.
Seaford Church is dedicated to St. Leonard, the sailors’ saint, and evidently a favourite amongst the people of Cinque Ports, for other churches were erected to his honour at Hastings, Rye, and Winchelsea. Seaford is said to have possessed five churches; four at least are known to have existed contemporaneously, and it is supposed that the crypt in Church Street is part of the remains of the fifth. Of the present church, probably the only original portion remaining is the tower, as the building in the original is said to have been cruciform, the tower occupying the centre; the true nave and both transepts have long since perished. The additions to the church as it now stands were made as recently as 1862. In the wall on the north side portions of Norman windows are utilised---sufficient evidence of the antiquity of the site and original building. In 1724 the tower contained a peal of five bells; in 1807 these were recast and supplemented by three bells.
The parish register of the church dates from 1558, and of the monumental inscriptions that of James Walker, Rear-Admiral of the Red, is most interesting; of one who “served, fought, and conquered with Rodney, Howe, Duncan, St. Vincent, and the immortal Nelson in the Battle of Camperdown,” in which he commanded the Isis.
Church Street is still picturesque, and is one of the principal streets. In it are several old houses, and the remains of a building known as “The Folly,” which is said to occupy the site of the ancient Town Hall of Seaford, and beneath which is the crypt, an apartment twenty-seven feet long by thirteen feet wide, with a vaulted roof about eleven feet in height. The vaulting ribs are simple, and spring from the wall independent of any bracket or boss, and the bosses are in the Early English style. There were originally two approaches to the subterranean chamber, which, from its architectural and archaeological interest, is well worth a visit. South Street still retains some of its picturesque features. It was at Seaford House that Tennyson wrote his funeral ode to the Duke of Wellington. Like many---indeed, one may safely say all---of our seacoast towns, smuggling, which seems to be almost an instinct with seaside folk, was extensively carried on in the neighbourhood of Seaford, and if not indulged in was winked at by squire and person alike. Many and wonderful are the stories told of smuggling and smugglers. Many, also, and quaint were the places used for storing the contraband goods, and endless the ingenuity displayed to evade the vigilance of the officers of the law. Such hoarding places are, in the course of alterations or demolition of old houses, being continually brought to light. In some of the old cottages in East Street, there is still to be seen a cunningly-hidden jar sunk in the brick flooring. The removal of one brick exposes the opening; when the brick is replaced, nothing less than taking up the entire floor would disclose the hiding-place, unless the position of the identical brick were known.
“Corsica Hall,” now known as Seaford College, was called in olden times Millburgh; written, however, in the time of James 1., Millberge. A mill once occupied the eminence on which it is situated at the eastern end of the town, and from whence it derived its original name. Some pieces of cannon were also mounted on it, as one of the defences of the ancient port, in which, from the topographical isolation of its hill from the Down, it is not improbable it was then insulated. This receives some measure of confirmation from the fact that in great floods it was surrounded with water. The house was originally built by an individual named Whitefield, who was extensively engaged in the smuggling operations of his day, and was an importer of Corsica Wine; and in order to get the outlawry to which he was condemned for the contrabandist offences annulled, he resorted to the to the bold expedient of presenting King George II. With samples of his choicest but prohibited wine. On this account, the mansion acquired the sobriquet “Corsica Hall.”
I paid a visit to the diminutive Town Hall, and found it was quite the smallest building of the kind I have ever come across. Her one may see the arms of the town---which are introduce which are introduced in the heading of this paper---in yellow on black panels, a ship on one side and an eagle on the reverse. Here may be seen also leg-irons, used on refractory citizens, and the padlock of the cells below, where once the culprits were incarcerated, prior to their removal to a more permanent abode at Lewes jail. In a plain and most modest of oak chests are kept and preserved some exceptionally interesting and valuable documents, amongst which is the original charter of incorporation, an exceptionally fine example of calligraphy in Latin, ornamented with drawings of the Royal Arms, and badges, and also a translation of the charter with explanatory notes, written towards the end of the seventeenth century. The town seals are preserved here; and here, too, may be seen the town records, commencing from 1562 almost without break to the present day. Some of these records are eminently amusing, if not instructive, for we find “the gude wife Pupe is presented for misusyng her tonge, to the hurt of her naybor.” What will the New Woman say to this? Or does she deny the right of mankind to Neighbourship?
Apart from the maritime position once held by Seaford, and the important position it occupied in the political and commercial affairs of the kingdom, its archaeological associations invest the town with exceptional interest. In Birling Gap may still be found, by the most casual and superficial observe, fragments and specimens of flint arrow-heads, dressing-knives, etc., for this spot was once a manufactory---the Sheffield of those times---for such objects made by our forefathers in the flint age; and you may perchance come across, in one of your journeys across the downs, an old shepherd who, being well versed in such, can, if he so will, discourse most learnedly upon the same; and may show you, or tell you, where you may see a collection found by himself while tending his flocks. I have in my possession a stone muller, for grinding corn, picked up at the foot of the cliff. It would be futile to speculate as to its age. Worn as it is by use and time, it still preserves the grip, and strikes one at once how suited it was for its purpose, primitive though those days were.
Frequent traces are found of the Roman occupation. There is the Roman camp, previously referred to, on the Seaford heights and others on the neighbouring hills, and that they had a settlement in the neighbourhood is conclusively shown by the discovery of a cemetery in 1825 at the base of the heights at a place now called Green Street. Here a number of sepulchral urns were exhumed, and another found in the soil which had fallen from the cliff on its western side near the mouth of the Cuckmere. A number of coins of Hadrian and Antoninus Pius were subsequently found in the neighbourhood; and in 1854 a fine medal of Antonia, daughter of Mark Anthony, was picked up on the beach below high-water mark.
These coins and urns and jewellery, apart from the encampment on the cliff, show evidently that Seaford was a place of some importance in Roman times.
The Saxons also had much to do with the making or marring of its history. Towards the end of the seventh century, when they were fully established in our island, we have recorded an incident relating to Seaford. It tells of St. Lewinna, a virgin and martyr, of British decent who fell a victim to the Pagan Saxon possessors of Sussex, on July 25th between the years 68 and 690. Her remains, which were preserved in a monastery dedicated to St. Andrew, a few miles distant from the shore (and we may remark in passing, that the only clue we have to the site of the monastery is that of St. Andrew's Lane Lewes), were removed in in the reign of Edward the Confessor by certain relic-mongers of Flanders.
The vessel in which the desired relics were carried to the Continent, we are told by the chronicler of the transaction, arrived at Seafordt, which, he observes signifies “the ford of the sea.”
Afterwards the little town seems to have been visited by misfortunes, and, phoenix-like risen again from the visitations of fire, war, and pestilence. In a precept from the King (Edward III.) dated May 18th, 1357, addressed to “his beloved bailiffs of the town of Sefford, situate upon the sea,” we learn that the town had then “been lately for the moste part burnt downe,” and also “devastated by pestilence and the calamities of war.” The townsmen in consequence were so reduced in numbers and impoverished that they could neither pay the “eleven marks” for the fifteenths “with divers other burdens,” nor furnish their accustomed quota of ships for “the defence of itself from invasion.” There are many entries in the town books during Elizabeth’s reign which afford proof of the decay of the port. From these we learn that the guns of the fort which had defended the entrance were stowed away in a barn. Then we read of a common duck pool taking the place of the harbour; for a practice analogous to “swan-marking” would, from several entries, seem to have prevailed in order to enable the different proprietors using it to distinguish their duck.
There is one thing at least in which Seaford is up-to-date that calls for no regret. I refer to its golf-links, covering about one hundred acres of the most picturesque undulating land it is possible to imagine. To a lover of nature, the scenery from some of the Tees is so fine, that even enthusiastic golfers have been known to pause, and for more than a brief space commit the deadly sin of removing their eyes from the ball. Of golf, it were best to say nothing. It is the accepted destiny of devotees to play a little and suffer much: like all devotees buoyed up by the ever-recurring hope of improving, and on some blessed of days making a record. For even as the artist is always going to paint his big picture, so the golfer ever lives in the hope of making a score. If my reader is either, or the two combined, let him hope on---visit Seaford and, the gods permitting, do both.
GEO. C. HAITÉ.
Notes and Information:
1.. Seaford today has been developed to such an extent that the little villages so admired by Haité have largely been urbanised i.e. East Blatchington, Sutton and Chyngton. The same has been true all along the coastal strip. Even the designations of 'conservation area' and, 'area of interest' etc. are proving to be of no protection.
2. LIZA's TOOTSIES: A link to the popular 1893 song "[E]Liza's Tootsies."
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=NOgeqIq3AtA
ELIZA'S TOOTSIES
Well there was a young girl and she lived down the street,
Her name was Eliza and she had big feet,
Size 24, corns attached
And for size and for quality, They can't be matched.
Eliza's tootsies, Eliza's feet,
Make no mistake, they take the cake,
Does Eliza's plates of meat.
Now Eliza went down to the shoe shop one day,
When the man saw her feet, he faded away,
He looked with a smile and he said with a grin,
What you need are the cases that the shoes come in!
Well Eliza went down to the butcher shop,
When she got to the door she fell flip flop,
The butcher ran out with his knife in his hand,
'Who the devil knocked me shutters down!?'
Now Eliza fell ill and they sent for an ambulance,
To get her body in they had no chance,
They sent for another at the corner of the street,
One for Eliza and the other for her feet!
Etc.
3. ST. LEWINNA: Haité mentions Lewes as the place where the monk Balger stole St. Lewinna's bones from in 1042 but different historians have variously thought that they were held at Alfriston, Beddingham, and Jevington but it is Bishopstone (St.Andrew's) that seems the most favoured today. The minster could be seen from Seaford the port where Balger's boat landed. Nowhere else reasonably fits the description. Bishopstone was closer than three leagues (a league distance was much shorter in many European countries than in Britain) and the story written between Balger and the chronicler Drogo was undoubtedly to justify the theft and exaggerate the part played by Balger. The relics were taken to Bergues in Flanders. They were destroyed in 1940 along with three quarters of the town by German bombing.
4. SEAFORD COAT OF ARMS
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| The Folly c.1940 (since largely demolished - except under-croft) |
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| Inside "The Crypt" (actually an under-croft) |
7. CORSICA HALL previously called MILBURGH (and The Lodge) has changed and rebuilt. The next two drawings shows the early changes and location in relation to the cliff (Seaford Head) and to Martello Tower No. 74 (the home of Seaford Museum).
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| c. 1850 drawing of Corsica Hall and Martello Tower (built 1808) and Seaford Head cliff. |
8. Diminutive OLD TOWN HALL in Church Street.
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| Seaford old Town Hall |
In addition to the pictures reproduced in his article I have been able to source six of his original Seaford drawings which I have added below. These show the town from Seaford Head golf course and also some farming activity in the area. Seaford Museum also have three Haité drawings which have been framed and are difficult to reproduce. I will do my best and add them if possible.
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| Seaford from the Downs - 12th of September 1894 by George Charles Haité by courtesy of Ben Franks |
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| Seaford from the 14th Tee by George Charles Haité - 12th of September, 1894 by courtesy of Ben Franks |
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| Threshing Corn using a Steam Engine, Seaford by C.G. Haité by courtesy of Ben Franks |
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| Threshing and Stack Building, Seaford - 12th September 1894 by G.C. Haité by courtesy of Ben Franks |
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| Boatman on Old River Course, Seaford - 7pm on the 5th of September 1894 by G.C. Haité by courtesy of Ben Franks |
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| Mill at Seaford -12th September 1894 by George C. Haité by courtesy of Ben Franks |
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| West House Seaford - 1894 by courtesy of Seaford Museum |
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| West House Seaford - 1894 by courtesy of Seaford Museum |
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| Seaford from the Beach - 1894 by courtesy of Seaford Museum |
George Charles Haité (8 June 1855 - 31 March 1924) was an English designer, painter, illustrator and writer. His most famous work is the iconic cover design of the Strand Magazine, launched in 1891, which helped popularise the Sherlock Holmes stories of Arthur Conan Doyle.
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| "Seaford Town and Church, Sussex* - Wednesday, 25th of August, 1824 by John Constable by kind permission of the Drawings Dept. Head, Morgan Library and Museum, New York. |
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| 1839 Seaford Tithe Map showing Constable's Viewpoint (just north of page edge) |
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| The Plough Public House, Church Street, Seaford by Richard Henry Nibbs (1816-1893) by courtesy of Seaford Museum |
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| Church Street, Seaford (from Phoebe and Phylis Lowe to Mr & Mrs Lowe) by courtesy of Seaford Museum |
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| West House - 1875 Flood |
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| High Street, Seaford, 1862 - Photograph by Mark Wynter by courtesy of Seaford Museum (Murray Collection) |
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| Broad Street -1869 (attributed to Seaford photographer Mark Wynter) by courtesy of Seaford Museum |
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| "Telsemaure" (built 1860 - demolished 1937) Crook family home (photo 1860 likely by M. Wynter) by courtesy of Seaford Museum (Crook Collection) |
Note: First gas lamp to be lit in Seaford on Telsemaure garden path -1860.
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| The Wellington 1870 |
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| "The Workhouse" Blatchington Road |
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| Upper High Street, Seaford - 1875 |
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| West House from West View |
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| Town section of 1872 Ordinance Survey Map |
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| Development Proposal 1877 - good locator map for town streets from the files of Seaford Museum |
Links:
Also http://greatwartales.home.blog/ which is about four soldiers who trained in Seaford and Eastbourne during WW1.
And https://lamberecipes.blogspot.com/ being a list of some 200 Georgian, Victorian and Edwardian recipes and Remedies by the Lambe family of East Blatchington.
Also https://sussexbirds.blogspot.com/ detailing the birds found in the Seaford area in the middle of the 19th century.
And research into a stereo image by Seaford photographer Mark Wynter of a shipwreck at Seaford Head. Link: https://seafordcliffswreck.blogspot.com/
Also https://blatchingtonbarracks.blogspot.com/ which includes the story of the 1795 riots and executions and also the story of the 'forming' of the Rifle Brigade in Blatchington near Seaford.
Seaford Museum is run entirely by volunteers and is funded by its members and day visitors. Please take a look using the following link: http://www.seafordmuseum.co.uk/
Many thanks for reading this blog.
Ben Franks
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