Tales of local life

NARY A HAREBELL LEFT

He was bored, very, very bored - for countless ages he had been here, there and everywhere creating trouble and chaos - mostly smaller things.

In Africa he fomented trouble, leading to tribal feuding, fighting and raping next door neighbours; in India he had encouraged class differences as well as poverty and wealth.

In China, Japan, Germany, France and, in effect, everywhere he caused quarrels and unrest.

Now he was getting so tired of this and decided that he must find something outstanding and spectacular so that people throughout the whole world would quell and shake whenever the Devil's name was mentioned.

Suddenly he had a brilliant idea as he remembered that once had had seen the most pleasing place he had ever been to.

There was an island country in the north west of Europe and in the south of it was the fairest spot of all. He took another look at it and it was so peaceful, yet industrious, beautiful and clean that he was determined to cause havoc there.

Poor Sussex.

Along the west were inviting beaches with golden sand and rippling wavelets, with here and there rivers pouring into the sea.

In several places there were small harbours with fishing boats, nets hanging over their sides.

Lying a short way back from these beaches, with their well-kept hamlets and villages, was a range of small rounded hills.

Mostly they were shining bright green in the sunlight, although here and there were small groves of bushes with occasional glimpses of white.

Sheep were grazing on the slopes looking fat and smug. But it was the valley beyond these Downs that held his eyes.

He had really loved heaven and still regretted he was no longer able to stay there. It was the view into the valley between the coastal hills and another range northwards that surprised him. It was nothing like heaven, yet something brought back recollections of it.

There before him, scattered about the whole valley, were clusters of cottages and houses ranging from the smallest hamlet to larger villages. Here and there were scarlet fields of poppies, vivid blue patches of flax as well as fields of corn. Small groves and larger copses of trees filtered perfectly into the landscape.

Men and women seemed to be peacefully working in the fields and woods and children were cheerfully and noisily playing everywhere. Even he, the Devil himself, was lulled into sleepiness.

Then all at once he realised that all the workers had disappeared and the sun was sinking rapidly in the west.

Suddenly from all over the valley, church bells pealed forth. It must have been bell practice as they rang on and on. He realised that he had been so engrossed that he had not really noticed the churches.

As he looked he saw every little hamlet and village had a church, whose bells were filling the evening skies.

This really upset him. He had not been so angry for countless ages. What could he do? Those churches must be disposed of. Suddenly he remembered that he had flooded half of India in a petty fit of temper. His spectacular feat would be to flood the whole of the valley, getting rid of the churches and their congregations for ever.

He looked at the land to the east, picturesque with its apple orchards -- and since his dalliance with Eve he had a fondness for apples. Also, the many hop fields made him decide not to cause damage there.

The area to the west of Sussex could also be left alone. Eventually he thought the best way would be to open up the valley so that the sea could invade.

Roughly midway along the coast two rivers slowly meandered to the seaside and it seemed an ideal position between the two to dig his ditch.

A last vigorous peal of bells enraged him still further and, as light rapidly failed, he decided to start shortly. He had to wait for it to be dark as he could not work in the light.

Eventually the last little light in the valley went out and all was quiet. He had to work fast because as soon as dawn came or any light appeared he would have to flee. Busily he worked away, piling the dug out ground high, chuckling with glee at the end result.

He reckoned he would be finished well before dawn but suddenly in one of the cottages a light appeared. Seething with anger he fled off westward away from the coming dawn.

As he fled a clod of soil fell from his foot and landed on one of the Downs where it developed into Chanctonbury Ring. A little further westward a larger lump fell into the sea and was fashioned into the Isle of Wight.

Apparently in one of the cottages the lady of the house was disturbed by something - perhaps the dog dreaming or a mouse scratching. To satisfy herself she lit the lamp -- and by so doing saved the Weald for ages to come.

Poor old Sussex - since that day there has never been a lady with a lamp to save it.

The Devil, still smarting with temper, was determined that he would still get rid of the Weald, but for added bonus he would destroy the rest of Sussex as well.

Not only that, but he would make it a long drawn out, painful, happening. How dare a woman from silly Sussex thwart him?

As the slow everlasting clock of time ticked on, he developed an endless array of pinpricks - great and small changes of weather - hot, cold, wet and dry - invasion, disease, unrest and anything that would unsettle man, animal and habitat.

All this, over countless ages, was working too slowly for the Devil, so in the last millennium or so he decided to hasten things.

To achieve this he had to spread his net and involve not only the rest of England but Europe and the rest of the world as well.

Early on it was mainly menfolk who suffered. Those living on the coast developed fishing and boat building skills.

By threats and attempts from across the Channel these men and boats became organised into fleets to defend their homes and livelihood.

Many lost their lives in battles and skirmishes as well and a few wide organised storms and gales accounted for more, many families thus becoming disgruntled with their way of life.

Sussex, like the other counties of Britain, was ruled by a central body. This body in the more modern times was elected district by district by a voting system.

Originally only the wealthy landowners could afford the time and expense. Nowadays, with the remuneration members get, it is proving a nice living for any Tom, Dick and more lately, Mary Ann.

The fishermen used to slip over the Channel and bring back wines, spirits, lace etc. upon which the Government had imposed heavy taxes. These smugglers naturally had the sympathy and help of everybody. Anything that is available free of tax is always popular.

All along the coast the smugglers had their special hidden routes to get their contraband goods away from the shore and the Excise inspectors. There were many bloody encounters between the two sides - especially if the local militia was involved.

The smugglers knew every part of the coastline and also knew the seas, tides and currents so well that they mostly prevailed. This gave the Devil a lovely idea.

The lords of the manor were usually local justices and were often able to give the smugglers advance warnings of any Excise inspectors active in the area.

Similarly, the local clergy let the smugglers use the church towers as lookout places and the church vaults for storage. He actively encouraged this law breaking amongst the so-called righteous, as the smugglers always rewarded church and lords with choicest gifts from their exploits.

The men from inland were never left long in peace and quiet. In early times the average countryman was hard pressed to look after himself and his family. Mostly he kept alive by hard, mainly agricultural work, which was extremely poorly rewarded.

A few eked out a rather better existence with iron smelting and charcoal making. Most were employed at one or other of the numerous large country estates. Poaching was part of country life and was harshly dealt with.

Some, on their own choice, others the Lord of the Manor's 'volunteers', joined the local militia formed to enforce law and order. But as always, smugglers were usually special cases.

In time of war the coastal menfolk were doughty sailors and every naval battle throughout the ages had many Sussex participants, as every Sussex town or village's records would show.

"Heart Of Oak" must surely have been mainly Sussex oak and Sussex men.

In 1701 the Earl of Donegal raised a regiment for King William III in Belfast. The Earl's family name was Chichester, but the family had no connections with Sussex.

The regiment was raised to deal with the turbulent Roman Catholic supporters of James III's French allies. Not only was it known as the Earl of Donegal's Regiment, but also as the Belfast Regiment, also the "Orange Lilies".

The regiment's seniority number was 35 but the regiment '35th Regiment of Foot' was more often known by the name of its colonel. The 35th left Ireland at the start of the war of Spanish succession and from there on served all over the world, winning very many battle honours.

In 1782 George III added county titles to infantry regiments, so the 35th became for a while the 35th Dorchester Regiment. In 1787 the Duke of Richmond recruited Sussex men to join the regiment and soon obtained Royal permission to transfer "Sussex" to the title from the 25th Regiment of Foot.

In 1832 the regiment was given the title "Royal" by William IV. In 1863 the 107th foot regiment became associated. It was originally the 3rd Regiment of Bengal European Infantry but eventually became the 2nd Battalion Royal Sussex Regiment.

Despite suffering extremely heavy casualties through the years - at times almost being wiped out - the regiment existed as such till after the Second World War, when more reorganisation took part - resulting in amalgamation with Surrey and Kent regiments to form the Queen's Regiment in the 1960s.

In 1992 it became part of the Princess of Wales' Royal Regiment. At various times through the ages the regiment had different marches and marching songs. They ranged from such as "The Lass From Richmond Hill" to Kipling, but the best known one was "Sussex By The Sea". "Was" is used, not "is", as it is seldom heard nowadays.

Before television days, singing songs was a regular occurrence, not only in village and town halls, but homes as well. It is still included by the few folklore groups that there are about. Unless a song these days is noisy, discordant and crude, it does not stand a chance.

Sussex By The Sea was composed and written by W Ward-Higgs in 1907 and was the real marching song of the Royal Sussex Regiment. The first verse and chorus remains familiar:

Now is the time for marching, Now let your hearts be gay, Hark to the merry bugles, Sounding along our way. So let your voices ring my boys, And take time from me, And I'll sing you a song as we march along, Of Sussex - by - the - sea. For we're the men from Sussex, Sussex - by - the - sea, We plough and mow and reap and sow, And useful men are we. And when you go to Sussex, Whoever you may be, You may tell them all, That we stand or fall, For Sussex - by - the - sea.

The song has five verses but only the first is well known. Verse four is typical of a soldier's so- called reputation:

Light is the love of a soldier, That's what the ladies say, Lightly he goes a wooing, Lightly he rides away. In love and war we always are, As fair as fair can be. And a soldier boy is the ladies' joy, In Sussex - by - the - sea.

How nice it would be to once again see the Royal Sussex Regiment march by with the band playing their song as the colours go by!!

Present day menfolk, with their polyglot mix, have deserted the agricultural scene. Farming is still extensive but market gardens have largely succumbed to the land-grabbing greed of councils and developers.

Every trade and profession under the sun is pursued, with more and more emphasis on leisure occupations. Women no longer think their place is in the home and are now a large part of the workforce, occasionally performing better than the men.

As time went by human nature, goaded by the Devil himself, began developing. This pleased him so much that he decided to let things to at their own rate.

Occasionally, however, he could not resist a devilish jape or so. Sometimes these actions went sadly wrong. In recent times, for a laugh, he thought a hurricane, loosening a few church tiles, would be a good joke. Unfortunately it was too strong, resulting in severe damage in the surrounding counties.

Thousands of trees were uprooted, houses and property destroyed, cars completely wrecked and people injured. Even his own Chanctonbury Ring was almost totally destroyed. Sometimes he felt that he would never win - he learnt that Sussex folk can be slowish and stubborn - "For Sussex will be Sussex and Sussex will not be Druv."

But luckily for him he was helped by the way that human nature quickly evolved. In next-door Kent, a rail works was transferred to one at Lancing. As a result a lot of the Kent workforce came to live in Sussex. Naturally Sussex blood was diluted with Kent through intermarriage. A little later the Welsh mining industry went through a very bad patch and lots of miners came to Sussex looking for work and many stayed.

The unemployment in the north-east of England led to many marches southwards, but insufficient numbers settled in Sussex.

Another big dilution of Sussex blood occurred through the two World Wars - especially the second - when every nationality under the sun gathered to not only protect the south of England, but eventually to invade Europe.

Soldiers, largely because most of their time is spent with fellow soldiers, are only too glad to seek out the opposite sex. The opposite sex, be it male or female, is also attracted to uniforms.

Way back in the early days of the Royal Sussex Regiment this was very apparent viz the old Sussex rhyme:

"The Royal Sussex is going today, Leaving the girls in the family way."

Thus the old Sussex blood was further diluted and mixed with American, Polish and other strains. The few native Sussex folk that were available through being in reserved occupations or unfit for military service did not stand much chance, as the rather bitter comment about the Americans complained: "Overpaid, oversexed and over here."

Not only was it after the Second World War difficult to find many true Sussex folk, but the Sussex dialect was as good as extinct.

There are a few -- a very few -- folk who try to keep this alive, mostly in song.

By now the Devil was so pleased with the way things were going he decided his help was no longer needed. Two things had evolved from human nature and he sat back and chuckled at their various methods.

Greed was the main thing but it was very closely mixed with jealousy. This was not confined to Sussex alone but was general throughout the whole world.

Sussex, like all other counties, was ruled by the Parliament from London, who delegated its powers locally. Thus city, district and county councils were also elected. These were mostly well served, but occasionally greed took over. Jealousy was the reason for even more destruction of the countryside as each council strove to outdo its neighbour.

Evidence of this is most visible on the Channel Coast where town and village pushed out its boundaries further and further. Eventually, as this proceeds, the South Coast will be one large town.

The Devil laughed till he cried at the way the destruction was continuing.

However the thing that pleased him more than anything was the increase in two distinct classes of business people - speculators and developers. Mostly these were people who thought that they had the welfare of both the country and its folk at their heart, but they were nearly all out to make a profit for themselves.

The speculators seized the opportunity of obtaining land, property etc for a penny and selling it, not for a pound, but for hundreds or thousands. Sometimes they were not very lucky and lost out, but this was not very often when dealing with land.

Now and again local opinion thwarted their efforts, but usually it was the developers that caused the bigger outcries from the populace.

Nowadays, now that so much of the native flora and fauna are becoming rarer and rarer - in some cases even extinct - conservation and preservation is uppermost in many people's minds.

This is especially true with some landowners, large and small, although there are still many out to make a handsome profit on land and estates that have been family-owned for generations.

Some schemes, especially with regard to roads - either upgrading or road relief schemes that may or may not improve life - cause local or even national argument.

These cause friction between not only neighbours but with the government, local councils and police forces. Quite often the common sense of the local populace prevails, sometimes the government's. Not only does this apply to roads and bypasses but to historic buildings.

Unfortunately the situation with the railways goes from bad to worse. For example in the day of steam, the old London Brighton and Slow Coach Railway ran a more or less reliable service from London to the South Coast.

The line was electrified in the 1930s and still was reliable, but since it was denationalised, along with the rest of the country's railway system, it has become a laughing stock and a very bad joke.

A lot of the trouble, but not all, has been not keeping rolling stock, track, staff and stations up to modern requirements and standards.

However, it is the various governments -- national and local -- and developers that are rapidly bringing about the Devil's pet ambition to destroy Sussex. To house the growing population -- native and immigrant -- the national government has decided that each county should build more new houses each year.

The South East has always been the most popular part of the country and thus most densely populated. As the years go by, building sites become more and more difficult to find. As a result some of the sites selected have not been the wisest.

The floods of the past few winters have shown some of the failings. Instead of taking heed of local knowledge and of experts on land management and conservation, many very bad decisions have been made.

Flooding in many areas, not only in Sussex, has been caused by building on flood plains, without the thought of tomorrow. As a result, blamed on world temperatures and climate change, unusually wet winters and springs have led to extensive very bad flooding.

The whole country has suffered this way but some parts of Sussex were very badly affected. The resultant damage to property and livestock has caused immense misery and hardship to very many folk.

Global warming and pollution has badly affected a lot of vegetation, especially the trees, whilst the animal life, especially fish and insects have also been similarly attacked.

Conservation is now in full swing but it is still a case of too little too late. Over the last 40 or 50 years, due to pressure and demand of the ever-increasing population, not only fields and hills but historic estates and buildings have vanished.

This trend seems set to continue as governments tend to take the old well known tag that "history is bunk" to heart. Mickey Mouse towns have been built on the slopes of the Downs, tracks across the Downs have now become roads and little picturesque hamlets now overflow with weekend cottages and holiday homes shutting out locals.

There used to be a winding road with a stream along the sides where kingfishers flew happily about and water voles thrived. Even watercress could be gathered in a couple of spots. The road has now disappeared and where it was is the runway for the airport.

Where there used to be brooks -- one with frog spawn and frogs, another with newts and a third housed leeches -- is an industrial estate with all sorts of factories making a variety of trades -- men's clothing, surgical goods, chemical and electrical goods.

The old river brook -- it was just too wide to jump as many a wet foot showed -- has been dammed and made into a boating lake. Rows and rows of houses now occupy what once were market gardens and orchards (Happy scrumping days!).

Not all of this can be blamed on developers, but some have desecrated not only Sussex but the rest of the country as well.

When the London to Brighton railway line was built, another town in Sussex was established, now gaudily advertised on boards throughout the area, as the heart of Mid Sussex. It has developed into not only a commuters' town but houses a lot of folk employed at nearby Gatwick Airport.

Their houses and homes were not developed only on lots of fields and wooden areas but also on country estates.

Sadly the woods, where nightingales sang their hearts out and badgers roamed, are no more, where bluebells bloomed along with wood anemones, wild daffodils and marsh marigolds are still more houses.

Pheasants strutted around; cows chewed contentedly in the fields and adders sunned themselves on mossy banks, but no longer -- still more houses are there and even more proposed.

But what must be almost the last nail in Sussex's coffin lid is now happening. How planning permission for it was allowed some years ago beggars belief.

Doubt has now been expressed that today permission would not be granted. The main objective was a new road to bypass the town, which was suffering the usual traffic congestion.

In most of the older towns through traffic seemed to be routed through the main street, which mingled with the local traffic, causing chaos. Incidentally in the future this problem will largely solve itself as the high streets will then consist of charity shops and building societies/banks.

Most of the small traders will have gone as they cannot compete with the large supermarkets. These in turn have left the high street and moved to the edge of town where they have taken up more of the fields and countryside.

The bypass plan, whilst hopefully easing the traffic flow in the town, seemed a little too optimistic from the start. After yet more fields and copses are devastated and the main railway line spanned, the new road would cut across the road leading north from Ditchling, Wivelsfield, Plumpton etc.

The present road, especially at peak periods, is teeming with traffic bound for the mainline railway station. The result -- another bottleneck. Yet more houses, shops etc are envisaged throughout the planned new route.

The western end of the new bypass sprawls across an old winding lane which probably originated as a country horse and cart track. It was once a peaceful Sunday afternoon walk with the added bonus of conkers in late summer.

The new road meanders until it reaches the main road where yet another roundabout has been constructed, yet another hazard for rush hour traffic.

On the east side of this new road the developers have gone to town. The trees and the fields have been destroyed, the soil has been hacked and whacked about and numerous houses and buildings erected. They seem to have sprung up, like a crop of various coloured fungi, almost overnight.

It is largely advertised as a village. The houses do not seem very village-like and would, seemingly, need a very deep purse to purchase. At any rate, another large part of Sussex has succumbed to developers and council alike.

To finish the scheme more and more fields and copses will be destroyed. Claims have been made that conservation is a major consideration -- I hope flora and fauna appreciate this. Maybe the plan will be the necessary solution to the traffic problems. Maybe, maybe!

Not only in Sussex but in the rest of the British Isles, similar schemes -- some good, some silly -- are being brought into force. The 21st Century will definitely mean a different country and a Sussex like Sussex will cease to be.

The Devil's ribs must ache with his laughing - perhaps if he had succeeded with his digging and the Weald became part of the English Channel, things would have been better. It's too late now -- either way, the Devil has won hands-down. (Izzie and Millie - I have written this in the hope that one day you might read it - the outpourings of an old knabbler - and come to know that there was once the best part of England - Sussex-by-the-Sea. In your day there may still be fields and a few woods for you to see and visit but I doubt that there will be many for your great-granddaughters. Fields, where cattle graze, wild flowers and butterflies abound, are not so common now. To watch and listen to a skylark, to hear a nightingale in full song and to be started by a screech owl at dusk, I doubt if you will have these pleasures. I hope that you both will have a love for what countryside is left and that there will still be bluebells, cowslips, marsh marigolds and dog roses still growing. The story about the Devil is embroiled from an old Sussex legend whilst the Royal Sussex Regiment's history is kept alive in a museum. I pray that there will always be totty grass and harebells still growing somewhere on the South Downs - Josser).

by J A Aitken

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