In the 18th and 19th
centuries Burwash was a haven for smuggling. 1721 brought
excitement to the area as the Excise Men caught up with Gabriel Tomkins leader
of the Mayfield Gang of owlers in the village, then chased
him to Nutley where he was arrested.
Burwash marks the northern boundary of ' 1066 Country ' being
eight miles from Senlac field. A brown road sign indicating the boundary.
Burwash is best known as the location of Batemans, for 33 years, home to Rudyard Kipling, and a popular visitor attraction. For two centuries, Burwash was one of the main centres of the Wealden iron industry, and it was an ironmaster who built Batemans in 1634.
The village maintains a proud
but sad duty throughout the year. A light is turned on at the top of the war
memorial on the evening of the anniversary of the death of each of the
village’s soldiers, sailors and airmen. There are some 100 names and dates recorded
there.
The original lantern, which
shone from the memorial tower beside the church was introduced at a time when
there was no street lighting and the electric light of today shines just as
bright in honour of the men who never came home.
The memorial was opened after
the First World War by the man whose name has become synonymous with Burwash,
the writer Rudyard Kipling. Tragically, among the names it bears is that of his
son John, who was killed at the Battle of Loos in August 1915 six weeks after
his 18th birthday.
The older inhabitants will
insist, albeit rather self-consciously, that its correct pronunciation is
Burrish, although this makes nonsense of the Rev John Coker Egerton’s story
about the village’s name. This 19th century clergyman recounted that he was
told, in all seriousness, by one of his parishioners that Burwash got its name
from a dog. In Sussex Folk and Sussex Ways, he records the villager’s
explanation:
‘When the Romans landed in
Pevensey Bay, they had with them a dog called Bur; and after a while the dog
got so bemired with the Sussex clay that he couldn’t travel any further, so
they washed him, and the place where they washed him was called ‘Burwash’.’
It is another dog that haunts
Spring Lane – in a most unnerving way. For the only part of this canine spirit
to materialise is its nose, sniffing in the darkness.
John Coker Egerton kept detailed diaries during his ministry at Burwash, and in 1892 wrote a book entitled Sussex Folk and Sussex Ways: Stray Studies in the Wealden Formation of Human Nature, which is still in print.
In 1992 a book was published based on his diaries entitled Victorian Village: the Diaries of the Reverend John Coker Egerton, Curate and Rector of Burwash, East Sussex 1857-1888.Captain John Leyland Feilden
caused plenty of gossip and no doubt some fanciful rumours at the end of the
19th century. He lived at Rampyndene House and when his wife died in 1887 he
refused to communicate with the rector, with whom he had fallen out. Instead he
had her body embalmed and put in a small mausoleum in the garden. The Captain
left the remains of his wife behind when he moved to the West Country and it
was left to Henry Wemyss Feilden, when he moved into Rampyndene, to have the
body removed and interred in the churchyard.
Unfortunately, Rampyndene House is currently surrounded by scaffolding. I'll return when the work is finished to get a better picture of it.
The churchyard seems to have
been rather a jolly sort of place a century or so ago, although in 1833 it was
with shock that the Rev Horsefield noted that it was converted into a scene of
youthful gaiety’, and that games of every description were being played among
the tombstones.
When it came to having a good
time it was the blacksmiths who surpassed the other village tradesmen. Their
big occasion was St Clement’s Day (23 November) when the anvils were fired with
a loud explosion and at least a half-holiday was kept to commemorate their
patron saint. In the evening there was a *Way-Goose’, not a goose at all but a
slap-up meal of roast pork with sage and onions, which all the village
blacksmiths would attend. There used to be four here at the turn of the
century, so presumably they let in a few outsiders to make a party of it.
A life-size dummy of Old
Clem, stuffed with straw and complete with wig, beard and large clay pipe, was
set up over the door of the inn to keep guard while the dinner was in progress.
The oldest blacksmith present would start the proceedings with a toast to
Vulcan, father of all smiths:
‘Here’s to Vulcan, as bold as
a lion A large shop and no iron A big hearth and no coal, and a large pair of
bellowses full of holes’
This was followed by singing
and then the men refilled their glasses for the curious toast:
“True hearts and sound
bottoms, Checked shirts and leather aprons.”
The blacksmith returned to
Burwash in 1985 after a break of nearly half-a-century when David Hedges set up
business in the village. He had served a seven-year apprenticeship, learning
all the aspects of the ancient craft, before spending 18 years in the police
force. He had always wanted to return to being a blacksmith.
One of the more curious tales
of recent years concerns the historic house that got lost. The 15th century
Wealden hall house that was Burwash’s original rectory was replaced in 1711 by
Glebe House, built by a rich rector, the Rev George Jordan, to the east of the
churchyard. The old rectory was sold by a later incumbent, the Rev William Curteis,
so he could reimburse himself for paying the land tax on it. Over the years the
house slid down the social scale to become four tenements, known as Portland
Cottages, and in 1968 Battle Rural District Council bought the site for
redevelopment.
When the old rectory was
being stripped for demolition its architectural importance was realised and it
was given to the Landmark Trust for re-erection on a site near Crawley. The
timbers, all carefully photographed and numbered by members of the Robertsbridge
and District Archaeological Society, were sent to a barn at Slaugham for
temporary storage. And that is the last anyone has seen of Burwash Rectory.
The Landmark Trust has no
knowledge of it, neither has East Sussex County Council, Rother District
Council nor the Weald and Downland Open Air Museum, which has rebuilt some 40
historic buildings rescued from destruction on a 40acre site at Singleton, and
has more in store. Burwash Rectory is not among them.
There was a story current in
the late 1970s that Burwash Rectory was going to be re-erected at Cranbrook.
David Martin of the Rape of Hastings Architectural Survey vaguely remembers a
request from a director of a firm of kitchen equipment suppliers in Tunbridge
Wells for photographs of the building that were taken as it was being
dismantled. There were about 200 of them, and some plans, which were all bought
and paid for,’ he said.
But the rectory is not in Cranbrook and the Portland cottages site in the High Street is now occupied by Old Rectory Court, a two storey weatherboarded block of old people’s flats.
St. Bartholomew’s church. The church stands on the highest point in the village, and the views from it and the graveyard are spectacular.
The church of St
Bartholomew was built in 1090 but the tower is all that remains of the original
Norman structure. The C19 niches and angels on the porch were based what
was found
The church houses the rare 16th century Geneva Bible, discovered in 1954 among a collection of old books in the vestry of the church.
(North aisle, second window) M Lawrence, 2001. Millennium window of two lights, vivid colouring. Depicted are St Bartholomew and the Parable of the Talents. Isn't it beautiful?
Mount House.
16th. Century barn in grounds, now converted to holiday accommodation. The barn is Grade II listed.
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