Story-142 Falmer Village 50 years ago and now (1913)

Peoples Stories - Bevendean History Project

Recollections of Thomas Henry William Pelham

FALMER VILLAGE
FIFTY YEARS AGO AND NOW
BY THE HON. T. H. W. PELHAM, C.B.

On a brilliant November, afternoon we were having a little general conversation in the motor train between Lewes and Brighton - about some coloured leaves which a lady had nicked near Falmer, and I was able to tell her that a purple little plant was a dwarf rose which, so far as I know, is only to be found in these parts on Newmarket Hill just above Falmer. A man who had joined in the conversation remarked that Falmer had very much changed since his boyhood, and I was then pleased to recognise in the speaker an old friend, whom I knew as a boy thirty years ago, but I rather doubted his statement, as Falmer seems to me very much the same as when I first remember it more than fifty years ago, long before my friend was born. It is true that then there were no telephone posts on the main road, and no coffee tavern, reading room, post office, clock or village tank. A good many of the old cottages have been removed, especially the wooden ones and those with thatched roofs. I remember two little wooden huts in the gardens of the houses opposite Mr. Gentle’s house. They had been originally built for the accommodation of navvies who were engaged in constructing the railway some 70 or 80 years ago. When I knew them one was inhabited by a blind widow (Mrs. Ede), and the other by a very old man (Sam Bennett), who had originally been brought from Laughton to Stanmer “during the bad times previous to the repeal of the Corn Laws.

There was a group of three or four very old cottages near the Rectory gate belonging to a Mr. Roberts, who owned and lived in what is now Mr. Gentle’s house. These cottages became part, of the Stanmer estate and were pulled down and new houses built in their place. Several new blocks of houses were built by the third Earl of Chichester, others were enlarged, and, as already pointed out, old dilapidated dwellings have been removed; but on the whole I do not think that the village has much changed. There has been no material alteration in the houses in the main road, and the church, the pond, the school, the blacksmith’s shop and the Swan Inn are very much what they were half a century ago. One great change took place about forty years ago when the passenger station was transferred from the railway cutting on the Lewes side of the village to its present site, which was previously occupied by the goods station. The old passenger station was both inconvenient and dangerous. There was a little ticket-box at the top of the steep staircase and two platforms below, but no bridge for crossing the line. I think that there were only about six trains a day each way. The position, though bad for traffic, seems to have been a healthy one. Isaac Oldaker, the last stationmaster at the old station and the first at the new one, only died the other day at the age of a hundred. After he had moved, his house at the old station was occupied for ten years or more by John Roser, who died in 1882 from a cold caused by sitting on the damp grass at the age of 97. At the time of his death Roser had seven-children alive (four having died), seventy-nine grandchildren alive (twenty-five having died) and one hundred and eleven great grandchildren alive (twenty-three having died). He thus left one hundred and ninety-seven descendants besides fifty-two who had died.

One great change has been effected in our country parishes by the introduction of railways. The old pronunciation of names is being given up. One hardly ever hears Falmer pronounced as Far-mer, which is the old style. Fortunately there is no railway to Balmer, which is still correctly pronounced “Bormer”.

Fifty years ago many of the old men and some of the younger ones wore smock frocks, and came to church in them. A youthful relative of mine on his way to Falmer Church for the first time inquired on seeing several of the parishioners in smock frocks. “Will they all preach?” which must have been an alarming prospect, as probably a third of the male congregation in those days appeared in that costume.

When I first went to Falmer Church the male part of the choir consisted of five elderly men, two of whom, Tom Carter and John Walls, wore smock frocks. The others were Harry Walls, Rann and William Carter. The last named, who in addition to his other duties was the village pig-killer, accompanied the organ with a flute. If we could go back another fifty years and have a peep at Falmer at the beginning of the last century, we should find that a considerable change had taken place since that time. The Brighton and Lewes road then ran along where the park wall is now situated and crossed the top of the bill near the present village shop and the old parish poor house. (In those days each parish had to maintain its own poor.) I think the village must have been move picturesque before it was out in two by the main road. It might be a good thing if motors could be made to run round the village instead of through the centre. The wall did not then exist, as the entrance to Stanmer Park was at the clump of trees now known us the old lodges on the boundary between the parishes of Steamer and Falmer. My father remembered as a boy hearing of a watch, which bad been dropped by a man out hunting, being ploughed up some months afterwards in a field between the present lodge gate and the old lodges. It is a curious fact that both the lower and upper lodge gates of Stanmer Park, as well as the hamlets known as Coldean and the Menagerie, are in Falmer and not in Stanmer parish.

I wonder how many of the boys and girls in the village school know what the parish boundaries are, and also what are the adjoining parishes. I am afraid that it has never been the practice in these parishes to beat the bounds, which, ancient annual ceremony involves taking a party of boys along the parish boundary. At each important point in the boundary the boys receive a sufficient castigation to impress their memory, for which they are more than compensated by having: a day’s holiday and buns and ginger beer.

Church services at Falmer, as elsewhere, were in old days very long, and the singing was not very lively. I remember two favourite hymns, one beginning, “The Festal Morn,” one line of which was repeated as a solo, and a funeral hymn,” When gathering clouds,” which one choir always sang well and with much feeling. The responses were said in a loud voice by the parish clerk. I well remember the way in which he repeated the response in the Litany “Lord have mussy upon us,” making one word of the last three. Some of the children assisted in the choir in the gallery, but the elder schoolboys were seated in the north-east corner of the church between the wall and the Communion rails, where they were kept in order by old Roser, who was armed with a long stick.

Falmer Church was restored about 70 years ago. It is reported that Archdeacon Manning (who afterwards went over to Rome and became the famous Cardinal) was present at the re-opening of the church, and expressed his admiration for the restored building!

Next to the church my earliest associations with Falmer were connected with skating on the pond, which had a larger area before the formation of the tank and the island, and was, I think, more watertight than now. I have met many people In the course of my life who have referred to the delights of skating on Falmer Pond when they were schoolboy at Brighton. One friend of mine who was at Brighton College 50 years ago told me that the boys used to walk over to Falmer to skate before breakfast, leaving the school at 5 a.m. and getting back before 9 a.m. There was large area of ice and plenty of room for a vigorous same of hockey, as well as for figure skating. The pond being unenclosed, it was impossible to keep people off while the ice was forming, and much mischief was done by boys, who threw stones and sticks on the thin ice and premature attempts at sliding; but with all these drawbacks Falmer Pond was the best skating place within reach of Brighton. My father used to tell of an incident connected with Falmer Pond, which shows how the most experienced may lose their way on the South Downs. He was riding back from Newhaven and got lost in a dense fog. At last he came to a road which took him downhill. Suddenly the fog lifted, and he saw a gleam of sunshine reflected from the water which he thought was the sea, but which turned out to be Falmer Pond.

I must not omit a passing reference to the village school house, which was a much smaller building 40 years ago than it is now. When first I knew it, the boys were taught by Mr. Turle and the girls by Miss Hare. Neither of those teachers would satisfy modern requirements, but I feel sure that there are many men and women scattered throughout the world who owe a debt of gratitude to them for the teaching they received and the good influence brought to bear upon their young lives at Farmer School. At a later date I used to give addresses in the school room on a Sunday evening. Mr. Barlow, the Vicar, was always present, and Miss Barlow played the harmonium. One of my friends at Stanmer says that it was through attending these services that he became acquainted with his present wife. I hope that this was not the only good result of the services.
In the old days there were several well-known names in Falmer belonging to families who had probably lived in the village for many generations. There were several householders bearing1 respectively the names of Carter, Baldey and Walls. Besides Mr. Carter the blacksmith, there was a Tom Carter in the choir, and a Tom Carter who looked after the well-horse (whose name was Pilate or Pilot) at Stanmer. He was a pious man and though a Nonconformist he was regular in his attendance at Falmer Church. I remember that he used to raise his hands and bless us as we passed out of church. I am not sure whether it was he or some other Falmer man who said to Lord Chichester, “What does your Lordship think of the election?” “Oh!” was the reply. “I hope that the Liberals will come in for East Sussex.” “I don’t mean that sort of election,” replied our Calvinistic friend, “I mean the election of grace.”

There were two old widows named Baldey about 30 years ago, one of whom lived in the old poor-house and the other over the reading room. These two, as young women, had been in service together at Telscombe farm house and had married two brothers. One of them (before her marriage, I think) had had a terrible experience in having to go to Horsham to bring away in a cart the body of her father, who had been hanged for stealing a horse. In the year 1818, one James Lulham was hanged at Lewes for stealing a sheep at Falmer. What a terribly cruel system our criminal law was less than a century ago!

One of the Baldey family was murdered on Newmarket Hill about 35 or 40 years ago. He lived at Kingston Cottage on the top of the hill, and was returning home on a dark evening with some money from Lewes, and was robbed and murdered within a few hundred yards from his house, On the evening of the murder I had walked over the hill from Kingston with the Rev. Charles Barlow, and we must have passed near the place only an hour or two before the tragedy took place. The murderer was afterwards identified and convicted at the Lewes Assizes. I was present at the trial.

There were several much respected inhabitants of the name of Walls, including two of the choir and the pariah clerk. I am glad to say that the clan is still worthily represented. In the old skating days there used to be two men bearing the name of Tim Walls who used to assist one to put on skates, which operation in those days required a gimlet and much tightening of straps. One was called “Long Tim and the other “Short Tim.” The latter had a large family, one of whom rose to be a Police Inspector at Eastbourne and was the victim in the notorious murder case a year or two ago.

Fifty years ago there was a celebrated character in the village who was looked upon as an idiot and” wept by the name of “Silly Tom.” He used to exchange chaff with some of our cricketers as he passed along the road opposite, Stanmer House, and I am not sure that he always came off second best. He was very regular in his church attendance both at Falmer and Stanmer in his smock frock and tall hat, with his Bible and Prayer Book tied up in a red handkerchief. On one occasion, having been greeted by the Bishop of Norwich (Dr. John Pelham), who had been preaching in Falmer Church, he said, “I heard your Lordship preach a sermon on that same text twelve years ago.” I am not quite sure as to the number of years, but it was over ten. That was pretty good for the village idiot.

Three of the most respected families of the parish were those named Green, Reed and Rann. They lived at Balmer, which is a mile distant from the village and most difficult of access, but in all weathers they were sure to be in their places in church. I have lately come across two of Green’s sons, who are doing well at Haywards Heath. Another was a victim in the S.S. “Titanic” disaster.

In 1868 or 1869 I was asked to visit a man named Budgen, who lived in a remote house on the Downs known as Cambridgeshire. He was not an old man, but owing to asthma or bronchial troubles he had great difficulty in breathing and was quite unable to do any work. The yard and cattle were looked after by his wife, who was a remarkable looking woman, especially when she used to walk over the fields with a gun to frighten away the rooks and other birds. It was a sad thing to see her and her children carrying up heavy loads of coal, groceries, &c, from Falmer.

I think that these distant cottages should be treated somewhat in the same way as rock lighthouses, where the keepers have two months on the rock and one on shore. I do not think that families, especially where there are children, should be allowed to stay perpetually so far away from school, church and humanity.

Budgen was a man of few words, but he seemed glad to be read to. I once asked him who lived in the house on the other side of the valley. The answer was, “Their name is Dapps, and I can tell you they are Dapps too.” From the emphatic way in which he replied I gathered that they had been guilty of some offence or unneighbourly act, but I never discovered what being a Dapps involved. Mrs. Budgen after her husband’s death resided in an outhouse in Falmer, and in spite of much suffering worked very hard to maintain herself and grandchild.

There are many old Falmer friends who have long passed away, but whose names I shall always keep in affectionate remembrance. Jesse Heathfield was one, and John Phillips was another. The last named was an old soldier who had served in the Indian Mutiny. He and his wife and Jesse Heathfield and Miss Mitchell, the postmistress, at one time had a little informal gathering on Sunday evenings for reading the Bible and singing of hymns. At an earlier date there were two brothers Kent, and George Kent of a younger generation, who had been a school master. They were succeeded in their cottage by Mrs. Richardson, who, as Eliza Whitburn, had been a nurse or school room maid at Stanmer. I cannot mention all my old friends, but I must not forget Daniel and Mrs. Hobden. Mrs. Hobden was a strict mother of the old style, but her method was certainly successful with her many sons, all of whom, I believe, are doing well. One of them is an Inspector in the Metropolitan Police, and is, or was, in charge of Buckingham Palace.

Another old Falmer family were the Hutsons of Coldean, John, who died at an advanced age some ten years ago, was a great politician. I remember his saying to me in the days before the household franchise was extended to counties. “Why shouldn’t a bloke like me have a vote? That’s what I want to know.” His house was enlarged about the time when Mr. Gladstone was conducting his great election campaign in Midlothian, and it was named “Gladstone Cottage” to please him. His brother Isaac emigrated to New Zealand with several of his sons. One of them, Ben, was a very fine young fellow who worked in the woods. He attended a Bible Class which I held at Stanmer on Sunday afternoon, and I have corresponded with him ever since. He followed up his old calling of wood-cutting in New Zealand, but also attended university classes at Dunedin, which is a great Scotch and Presbyterian centre. He eventually obtained a degree and then went through a three years course in the Divinity Schools, maintaining himself all the time at his ordinary work. On one occasion he wrote to tell me that a prize of £100 had been offered by the University for the best prize on Christianity and Socialism, and asked whether I could send him some books on Socialism. I sent him some and heard from him later that he had shared the prize with a Doctor of Divinity from Edinburgh. For more than thirty years Ben has been a Presbyterian minister out there. His only son came over here to study medicine and surgery at Edinburgh, and has now returned to New Zealand as a fully qualified physician and surgeon. Ben tells me that his father still enjoys good health and discusses English politics and cricket, and asks many questions about the latter subject which his son cannot answer.

In going through the names of the older parishioners one is struck by the large proportion of Scriptural names. One is not surprised to find Peter, Samuel, Benjamin, Jesse and even Solomon, Isaac or Luke, but I do not think that parent’s nowadays would give their boys the name of Isaiah, Zebedee, Obed or Absalom.

I have omitted to mention from want of space many whose names and faces are still fresh in my memory. I wish I knew something about those whom I knew as boys and girls 30 or 40 years ago, and who have sought their fortune in different parts of England, or in other countries, or the Colonies. It would be a good thing if our village schools were to have a record or register of old scholars, showing their residence, occupation, marriage and circumstances. No doubt, as time went on, it would be difficult to keep the register up to date, but even an incomplete register would be useful. It would be interesting to know what becomes of our country lads and lassies: how many continue to be employed in farm work, how many go on to railways or join the police, and how many emigrate.

Having briefly referred to some of the old folks of years gone by, I am led to ask the question, are those now living at Falmer more or less prosperous, more or less virtuous, than those of a previous generation? No doubt those of the present day have had better education and in most cases they have higher wages and more healthy surroundings. The young men of to-day always appear to me to be better dressed, and as a rule more intelligent than those who came to my Bible Class 43 years ago. There may be some drawbacks arising: from higher prices and increased competition which act as a set off to other improvements, but on the whole I think that the opportunities for health and happiness have been very much increased. Whether or not the people themselves are actually more happy than their predecessors is a question I cannot answer.

In the old time there were some who under many disadvantages lived consistent and happy lives, and brought up their families to love and honour God. I am sure there are still some who do this. If I might end my recollections with a little advice to the young men of Falmer, I would say make up your mind that whatever happens you will have a happy home, both for your own sake and for the sake of your wife and children. In order to secure this highest of blessings it is necessary to learn habits of self-control and self-forgetfulness. These habits are more easily learnt in boyhood than in manhood, and it may be an incentive to one who in his youth is endeavouring to overcome evil tempers and passions to remember that the happiness of others as well as of himself depends on the result of the fight. Purity and unselfishness are the two most important requisites for the happy home.

T. H. W. P.
Christmas, 1913.

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