THIS IS FINDON VILLAGE — these
Findon Chronicles are created by Valerie Martin and contain scenes from her home
village of Findon,
West Sussex, U.K. Everyday stories about real people.
THE LOST FEATHER BED
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The Manor of Findon — Findon Place, from the south in 1997. |
Copyright Valerie Martin 1999.
First published in the West Sussex Gazette in May 1999.
During the Civil War, Sussex in the main supported Parliament, but I understand that Findon, although a backwater with a population of around 220, and the owners of the Manor of Findon, were Royalist in sympathy.
I think that news travelled surprisingly fast across the countryside in 1643. Arundel had fallen during the Great Rebellion of January and the castle had been besieged and sacked. The Fitzalan Chapel was desecrated and pillaged by Parliamentarian forces under the command of Sir William Waller. The Commander had mounted his guns on the tower of the Parish Church and fired down inside the very castle walls. Masonry began to shudder and fall. The soldiers of Parliament took over the town. It all happened over three centuries ago and a lot has to be left to the imagination.
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Wiston House in April 2002. Construction of the property was begun in 1573 and the resulting house was much larger than it is today.
A group of men loyal to Charles I were camped at Wiston below the South Downs. When they heard of the fall of Arundel they hastily planned their departure. The horses were harnessed and the carts prepared with all speed to retreat from the Wiston area. The fleeing men elected to head for Findon. They knew that many well known local families had signed their names to Findon’s Protestation of Loyalty to King Charles I in 1641 to prove their allegiance.
It was only a few miles but the track was comparatively rough and the baggage train containing all their belongings travelled slowly and hampered their progress. They grew wary. The road was a dangerous place and presented great problems for travellers. Even rural post carriers were in danger of having their goods seized by either side in the Civil War, or their horses requisitioned without recompense. The wheels of the fleeing horsemen’s carts stuck fast more than once in the winter mud. Their relief at seeing the Manor of Findon nestling below Church Hill can only be imagined and they approached the manor house with high expectations.
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Elation did not last for long. They had not even started to unload before word came that Parliamentarian troops were on their way to Findon. They decided that the cumbersome baggage train would impede their progress and they knew they would receive no mercy if caught. The decision was made to abandon the impedimenta by the wayside at Findon and flee.
Parliament's troops rode in, the baggage train was immediately retrieved, and they reported back to the captain that it was intact. Their stern commander had threatened certain death to any of his soldiers found indulging in looting in the course of duty. The captured carts were duly commandeered and added to the army’s acquisitions.
An unusual and stark view over the wall to Findon Place (the Manor of Findon), 1997. |
A Chaplain in the Parliament's army later wrote a glowing account of the capture of Arundel Castle and the surrounding Sussex countryside. He went on to relate how the party of Royalists had hurriedly departed from Wiston and "fled for their lives", and in their wake left three carts "loaden with plunder" at Findon Manor. It was very characteristic that in giving such a one sided record of the encounter, (in which there were truly great losses on both sides), he assumed that those of the Royalist following were obviously condemned to "hell" and those of his own persuasion were presumed to reside in "heaven". He was of the conviction that God was firmly on the side of the supporters of Parliament.
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St. John the Baptist Church and the Manor of Findon (Findon Place) by Stanley Roy Badmin 1906-1989. |
In later skirmishes between Cavaliers and Roundheads, the Cavaliers recaptured the baggage train they had so hurriedly forsaken at Findon. They were no doubt relieved and somewhat surprised to find their possessions still intact — with one exception. Someone had dared to violate the commander's orders and had confiscated one feather bed, no doubt for their own use. In those days, most people slept on a feather or flock mattress resting on a criss-cross of stout cords laced across a wooden bedstead. The loss of a bed was a small price to pay for one’s life in the days of the Civil War.
At this time a solger (soldier) was buried in the graveyard at St. John the Baptist Church, and this substantiates the military's presence in Findon. It is wondered if the poor fellow had something to do with the story.
Charles I was indeed on the slippery slope that led to the scaffold. Just after two o’clock the afternoon of Sunday, 30th January 1649, he was solemnly walked passed the Banqueting Hall windows of his own Whitehall Palace. He made a short speech that was heard by only a few, and was beheaded. His remains were recovered by his followers under cover of darkness on a bitterly cold snowy morning. The body was promptly buried in a lead wrapping without any religious service at Windsor Castle. For the time being, England no longer enjoyed a sovereign.
Continue if you would like to read The Dower House — Holmbush
This is Findon Village — www.findonvillage.com is a continually growing record created by Valerie Martin exclusively for documenting life in Findon.
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Do let me know of anything you hear about Findon - not too controversial. Please note that opinions expressed in the Findon Chronicles are not necessarily reflective of my own thoughts.... but sometimes they are! |