River Ouse Story

Nowadays the Sussex River Ouse rises as springs and streams at Slaugham, Balcombe and the Ashdown Forest. These join together and flow across the lower Weald through Lindfield and Barcombe. The river cuts through the Downs at Lewes and then meanders in a wide valley to reach the sea by means of a straight cut at Newhaven.

It was not always so. Until the sixteenth century, the river flowed towards the sea near where Newhaven is now (then it was just a small fishing village called Meeching). Then, just before it reached the sea, the main river channel swung sharply eastwards and flowed parallel to the sea's edge for nearly a mile before making its way to the sea at Seaford. The river seems to have flowed close to the shore but was separated from it by great shingle banks. The main channel of the Sussex River Ouse must have changed many times, even in the last one or two thousand years as a result of the movement of shingle and the silting up of the river which meandered slowly across the valley and wide estuary. Small channels found their way to the sea, one at Meeching and possibly another near Tidemills, but these were not significant enough to provide a harbour. The harbour, and it was a well-known and well-used one, was at Seaford.

This is the story of the biggest change that happened during the last 500 years - the loss of that harbour as a result of the movement of the mouth of the river from Seaford to Newhaven. Many historical versions are given but not many people know what really happened. Listen, and I'll tell you.

In the early 1500's Lewes and Seaford were thriving ports. They had fishing fleets, boat building yards and handled a great deal of trade with Normandy and other parts of Europe and even further afield. Wool was one of the main exports, along with grain, wood and iron goods. Wine and spirits, lace and stone were brought in to Seaford and taken by big, slow horse-drawn barges up to Lewes for distribution. Many rich merchants were involved in trade and they prospered.

In Lewes around 1540, there lived such a merchant whose name was William. He was middle-aged, wealthy, powerful - a respectable burgher of the town. He enjoyed his position and he enjoyed making and having money. One day he thought that although he had a comfortable, orderly household and the respect of his community, his life was lacking. He decided he wanted a wife. And being a man used to having what he wanted, he set about fulfilling his desire.

He turned to the household of a neighbouring merchant, a man he'd known for many years, who had a daughter - Elizabeth. Elizabeth was about twenty years old, well educated for a woman of her times, lively and spirited. She was not consulted about the proposed marriage. Arrangements - financial settlements and suchlike - were made between William and Elizabeth's father. When all was agreed to their satisfaction, Elizabeth was informed of the "good match" that had been made for her. She was not happy about it. In fact, she tried every method of persuasion she could muster to make her father change his mind. But like William, her father kept his heart in his purse. All the tears and sulkings, starvings and pleadings had no effect and when the day came for the wedding Elizabeth was forced to go through with it. Pale and angry, she stood beside William at the altar. All the weight of opinion of the good burghers of Lewes supported her father - marriage was not much different from the trading arrangements that they made every day as merchants. Elizabeth should be glad of such a good transaction.

She and William were married.

William could not help noticing that she was not happy but resolved to do all he could to woo her into accepting and enjoying her situation. He'd chosen her for her youth and her lively ways as well as for the prudent reasons of satisfactory financial arrangements with a family of suitable class and culture. But winning her affection was not an easy task. Elizabeth was unhappy and, like an army faced with a situation in which neither attack nor retreat is a viable option, she turned to guerilla tactics. She used angry outbursts, quiet disobedience, sarcasm, and deliberate subversion in various combinations. William's erstwhile orderly household was in turmoil. The servants didn't know how to deal with the contradictory orders they received and William didn't know how to soften the fury of his bride. He had cause to wonder about the meaning of the expression "a good match".

One summer day he had an idea. He would take Elizabeth for a change of scene, an outing. Since his heart was still mostly lodged in his pocket, William was delighted by the economy of his plan - they would travel on one of his wool barges down the river to Seaford. It would take a full day, or possibly two, depending on the tides, and it would surely give Elizabeth pleasure that would in turn become a warmer response to his advances. And he was even more delighted when he saw that despite her customary resistance to everything he suggested, Elizabeth was excited by the plan. As was the way of the world in the early years of the sixteenth century, Elizabeth hadn't travelled further than a mile from her home. She had never seen the sea.

So preparations began. Food and clothes, utensils and bedding all had to be prepared and loaded onto the barge. After two days of flurry and fractiousness, the moment came for Elizabeth and William to leave their house and walk down to the quayside to embark. Elizabeth kept William waiting, and then appeared in the doorway with her two pet dogs in her arms.

William shouted,
"You can't take them on this trip! They'd just be a nuisance! They'll have to stay at home - there are people a-plenty to look after them."
Elizabeth pouted, and argued, and stamped her feet. But William, red-faced and adamant, won the skirmish. They went aboard, both fuming, but without the dogs.

When everyone who was coming was safely on board the barge, William, still angry and breathing heavily, called the whole company to come and listen to him.
"This is a pleasure outing. I insist upon enjoying myself. I have had enough disputation, contradiction, argument and moodiness. If, during this journey, anyone, anyone at all gainsays one order, contradicts me even in the smallest point, that person will at that moment be deposited on the bank of the river and never more be part of my household. This I swear by the holy bones of Saint Lewinna herself. Is it understood? Everybody?"

William glared at each member of the company and finally at Elizabeth. The servants bowed their heads and nodded or spoke their assent. Elizabeth just looked coolly back at her husband and smiled.

The order was shouted, the horses strained at the harness, ropes tautened, chains rattled and slowly the barge pulled away from its mooring. And slowly, slowly wound its way beneath the cliff towards Beddingham. At first Elizabeth was deeply disappointed: the river was so low in its channel that she could hardly see over the banks. But gradually the water level rose with the incoming tide and she could look across the fields towardst the clay mounds in the west and Beddingham in the east. And there were cormorants on posts, herons slowly lifting themselves away from their fishing stations and dragonflies with wings like mirror glass. Elizabeth was delighted by all of it. By Itford, the horses had to rest as the incoming tide was in full flood.

And so the slow journey proceeded. By the time the barge was approaching Piddinghoe, Elizabeth and William were relaxed and almost happy. They stood side by side watching a flock of sheep being brought to a river inlet to drink. A young shepherd was with them. As the animals drank, he too approached the water, knelt down and drank by putting his face to the water. He didn't use his hands. William burst into scornful speech,
"Look at that! It shows the truth of what I've always said - that a man is born into the estate to which he is suited. That churl is a beast with the manners of a beast, and so he shall ever be!"
"It is not so!" said Elizabeth angrily. "If that young man had been born into your estate and you into his, he would have better manners than you, I'm sure, and you would be more uncouth than he is!"
"Boatmen!" shouted William. He turned to Elizabeth, "I warned you! Before this whole company I swore by Saint Lewinna, and I will keep my oath. Enough of this disputation and disagreement! Away with you! Boatmen, pull to the bank!"

William ordered two servants to lift Elizabeth off the boat and to put her down in the shallow reeds and mud by the river bank. Then he called for the barge-men and horses to pull away. Maybe he expected Elizabeth to cry and beg to be taken up again. But she didn't. She did call out though, as the barge moved slowly into the current of the river.
"William Merchant, hear me!" Her voice rang loud and clear. "Hear my words! You will one day bow before this young man you so despise. I see it and I say it!"

William pretended not to hear and the barge moved further away. Elizabeth gathered up her skirts, turned towards her new life, and carefully waded to the bank. She clambered up and walked towards the young shepherd who had watched all this open-mouthed.
"You see my husband has abandoned me here," Elizabeth said to him, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Do you live somewhere nearby where I can dry my things?" she asked. He nodded, still dumb.

He led her to a small cottage, showed her inside and then left her while he took care of the sheep. When he came in he stammered, blushing, into speech. His name was Joshua, and he lived in the cottage alone - his parents had both died a year before. He lit the fire, helped Elizabeth to dry her shoes, made her some food and, well, one thing does lead to another - before the evening was over, he offered her a home in the cottage with him and she accepted his offer.

There was gossip of course. But one season's gossip soon gives way to the next, even in Piddinghoe. Lewes was far away and the young people heard nothing of William. Joshua was kind and intelligent. Elizabeth taught him to read and write and he learned quickly. She sold some jewellery to pay for improvements to the cottage. She learned how to help with the sheep and they learned how to live together and love one another.

Elizabeth often walked with Joshua and the sheep over the Downs. One day they were on the great clifftop above Meeching when Joshua, with his far-seeing Downsman's eyes, looked long and hard out to sea.
"I believe it is the French," he said quietly. It was 1545 and the French had been raiding all along the coast. They must have thought they were too far from land to be spied. Elizabeth and Joshua ran down to Meeching to raise the alarm and a rider was despatched in haste to Lewes. There, Sir Nicholas Pelham gathered his people and marched at speed down to the coast. Men joined them as they marched so that a motley but determined band lay in wait at the east side of Seaford Bay - waiting for night-fall. The French came, sure that they had surprise on their side, but they were the ones surprised. The battle raged on the beach where the Sailing Club now has its headquarters, the area of Seaford called the Buckle after the Pelham family. The outcome was comprehensive defeat for the French raiding party. By dawn many men lay dead or dying on the shingle and many boats which had started their voyages as French boats were now English.

Sir Nicholas Pelham's quick response and prowess on this occasion are celebrated in two lines in the verse on his tombstone in Lewes:
"When that the French did seek to sack Seaford,
This Pelham did repel'em back aboard."

Sir Nicholas gave a feast in honour of the victory and called to him everyone who'd made a contribution. Rewards of gold and goods were distributed. Elizabeth and Joshua stood before him, honoured for raising the alarm - without it victory would not have been possible. Sir Nicholas asked them what was their wish.
"If it is in his power to grant it, I will," he said.
Joshua hesitated and turned to Elizabeth.
"My Lord,"she said, "We would like to act as your bailiffs for the port of Seaford."
"This is easily granted," said Sir Nicholas, "arrangements will be made at once."

It was the bailiffs' work to check the cargoes of ships coming into harbour and to collect any levies and taxes due on the goods. Elizabeth and Joshua moved into a good townhouse on the quayside at Seaford, and took instructions in the work from the incumbent bailiff who was content to be moved to other work for the Pelham family. Soon this young and happy couple were a familiar sight on the wharves and jetties of the harbour. Well dressed, competent, honest even - a rare quality in bailiffs - they fulfilled their duties and enjoyed a new and different life. They shared the work between them, unusual then, but accepted, and they still found time for wandering on the hills they loved albeit without the sheep.

One day a ship came from Holland with a full cargo.
"I'll take care of this one," said Elizabeth, taking accounts book, pens and servant with her.
Once on board the ship, she took a cursory look at the cargo and then presented the Captain with a bill for harbour levies and import duties about five times higher than the normal rate. She would not listen to the Captain's protests.
"If you're not willing or able to pay," she said, "the cargo is impounded. Nothing leaves this boat until the full levy is paid."

A messenger brought this unwelcome news to William Merchant of Lewes who immediately, and anxiously, set off for Seaford. He rode faster than was his habit, and as he rode he tried to fathom what would be his best approach to this situation - he found the prospect of losing money most distasteful. At Seaford he soon found the bailiff's house. He was shown into a room to wait, and wait he did. It was a full hour before the servant announced the bailiff. Into the room came a tall, well-dressed - even elegant - young man. How could William have recognised him? The worried merchant stood up and bowed low before the bailiff.

As he rose from his bow William heard a laugh that he knew. In the doorway stood Elizabeth thoroughly enjoying the changing emotions registering on her former husband's face. William decided to protect his financial interests by adopting an attitude of humility. He acknowledged that he'd been very well tricked. He also told Elizabeth that he'd had their marriage annulled. He then negotiated to bring the port levies and taxes on his cargo down to the normal level. He rode thoughtfully away from this encounter.

You might think that's the moral, and the end of the story, but it isn't. At the beginning I promised to explain how the river mouth moved from Seaford to what became and still is Newhaven.

As William rode home he thought about the Royal Commission that was sitting in Lewes discussing problems arising from the sluggish flow of the river at that time. The river mouth was silting up badly so that ships of any size at all had to wait for high tide to be able to enter the harbour. And land further up the valley was flooded for 6 months or more in the winter because of the problems at the river mouth. When he got back to Lewes, William made some enquiries and then went to speak to the Royal Commissioners. He came out poorer than he went in, but satisfied with the outcome. He immediately negotiated with a local landowner to buy some of the riverside land near Swanborough that was so often flooded that it cost only 2d an acre.

The Commission announced the outcome of its deliberations a few days later - there would be a straight cut made down to the sea to increase the speed of the river's flow. The cut, it had been decided, would go from the last bend of the river making it flow into the sea at Meeching. This would inevitably reduce the flow along the channel that reached Seaford. The work was done during the 1550's. When the cut was made, the river flowed swiftly down to the sea at the "new haven" that was created. For a while some of the river's flow continued to reach Seaford, but winter storms piled up the shingle so effectively that very soon there was no outlet and eventually no harbour at Seaford at all. Newhaven was now the port and would continue to be so. And the land which William had bought no longer flooded every year. It was rich agricultural land and he sold it for 13/4d an acre. He was delighted with this outcome, and he also relished the consequences for Elizabeth and Joshua. There was no need for bailiffs when there was no longer a port.

William rubbed his hands with delight as he thought of the reversal of fortunes that Elizabeth and Joshua, now her husband, would be suffering. What he didn't know was that after his visit the couple had decided once again to turn their faces to a new life and had taken ship for Flanders and whatever adventures they would find.

But to tell about that would be another story. This one set out to tell how Seaford ceased to be a port and Newhaven became one. Believe it if you like and leave it if you don't!