Findon throws up some interesting village characters over the years and I have chosen as one of these Colonel Marsden Samuel James Sunderland D.S.O. He formerly commanded the Sussex Regiment before occupying North End Farmhouse in Findon c.1894 until around 1915.

The farmhouse was a large Regency property of brick and flint, with later 19th century additions.   It stood on the west side of the A.24, north of Findon at the secondary entrance to the Muntham Court Estate. The Colonel rented the house from Charles Goring of Wiston.  Also rented were the orchard and outbuildings consisting of an old three-stall stable where he kept his horses. One of these was called Gypsy and it is known that there was also a grey occupying the stable. The grounds, extended to about three acres and included a coach house, garage, wood store, apple store (at one time the dairy) and woodland.

The secluded informal gardens of the farmhouse were well hidden by a belt of high trees and a substantial flint wall, making it quite invisible from the Worthing to London road. The grounds were well laid out. There were asparagus beds and artichokes growing where in later years there were large apple trees and a mowed lawn. A drain ran from the top of the rockery and this filled the tank with water in the yard of the house.

Water has always been in short supply in notoriously waterless Findon. At North End House, it was drawn by pump from a well in the yard. When this ran dry, fresh supplies were fetched by horse and cart from Franklands brook in Washington.

The land where the Colonel farmed was situated at North End, Findon Park and around the Pest House area.

He was a shooting man and his gun gave him pleasure. Being such a keen sportsman he decided to import a novel breed of pheasant all the way from Afghanistan to further his Findon gaming enterprise. Once in his pheasantry he named them "Prince of Wales’s pheasants".  His large birds with their long tails and bright colours had been very highly recommended for their high and powerful flight. An additional bonus the Colonel discovered was that their eggs also fetched an equally high price. However, the Findon shooting fraternity found the ordinary breeds quite sufficiently difficult to shoot without the introduction of these newfangled "foreign" birds on their doorstep.

The Colonel reared pigs as well as the Prince of Wales pheasants, and his favourite livestock were his prized Jersey cows.

Around the year 1912, the Colonel employed a lad of twelve years old from the North End Cottages that are situated on the opposite side of the road to the farmhouse. This was young Master Cooper who started work at the very early hour of four o'clock each morning before the family arose. The boy's first task of the day was to clear out all the cooker flues and later his job was to drive the horse and cart and deliver the Jersey milk to Worthing.  He was kept out of mischief by also helping with the cooking of the four course dinners served each night at the farmhouse.  It is guessed he had a long working day.

Altogether the Colonel employed some eight servants in the farmhouse and these included a German butler, cook, cutler (to repair knives, forks and similar utensils), lady’s maid, maid etc. The latter girl slept in the attic, which she could only reach by climbing an ancient spiral staircase.  The Colonel employed other labourers on the land.   His bedroom is known to have been over the "Justice Room" (now demolished), where the farmer paid out the wages.  

The Colonel had two daughters. Unfortunately, one was disfigured alll her life. Disaster had sadly struck during a party when the special dress she was wearing caught fire.

The other was Hilda, known by everyone to to be a bit on the wild side. She was nevertheless a well-educated young lady and spoke fluent German. Was there some connection with the butler in this respect or pure coincidence?

Unfortunately, the wayward Hilda it is said developed into an alcoholic and drank from first thing in the morning until her head touched the pillow at night. She was forever rummaging in the gloomy cellars as her favourite tipple was in the champagne bottles stored under the old house.

Christmas was something to be looked forward to. It was always celebrated in high style at North End House and was a great occasion for the whole family to join in.

Some households start collecting the ingredients for their Christmas pudding in November and the "stirring of the pudding" is done before the month is out. Not in the Sunderland household though. The raisins, currants and suet for eight magnificent Christmas puddings were amassed in the spring each year.

In May on a comparatively quiet day in the farmhouse kitchen the cook would announce that today was "stir-up day". The puddings would be ceremoniously made and steamed in fish kettles. Finally they were stored away in readiness for the next Christmas. This meant they were duly hung, out of harm’s way, on the old hooks on the beams of the room that was in later years to become the lounge. Here the traditional seasonal speciality matured waiting for Christmas Day and the room smelled of Christmas the whole year through. Eventually on the 25th December, one pudding was selected to be flamed with brandy.

Young Master Cooper’s mother was called in to assist the cook whenever company was being entertained, especially during the festive season. At Christmas even poor Hilda’s alcoholism and persistent sipping at the champagne passed unnoticed, or at least was not quite so obvious to everyone amongst the revelry. The house was a hive of activity during the celebrations.

Eventually, it is reputed that the wretched Hilda was the ruination of her father with her habitual sampling of the drink. She brought him to his knees and over the years he mortgaged everything. This included his cars and precious cows, all to satisfy her need for drink. The final straw came when he had to move away from North End Farmhouse.

I wonder for how long the descendants of the Prince of Wales pheasants graced the Findon countryside, or did the Muntham gamekeepers bring them down?

Continue if you would like to read about A Portrait of Cobden Farm Pre War.