​On the evening of the seventh of December 2022, the Friends of Henfield Museum Christmas tea was in full swing in the Henfield Hall.

As the evening drew to a close, Alan, the museum curator, told me that an item had been dropped off at the museum a few days before and would I please take a look at it before I went home? Not an unusual request. But it was to prove a very unusual item. I had no idea that when I left the building that night, I would be carrying a bundle of filthy fabric wrapped in a paper tablecloth.

In the museum I found a small bundle of very dirty cloth lying on a chair. It had been brought in without a bag. Very carefully I picked it up and looked at what appeared to be a bodice shape. It was saturated in dirt that was so fine it ran from the bodice like water. In the absence of anything else suitable, I requisitioned one of the (clean) paper tablecloths from the tea tables and wrapped it up like a bundle of washing. All I had to go on was the accession form which had ‘In loft’ written on it. Anymore would have to wait for daylight. And gloves.

The first time I examined the stays in daylight my diary reads ‘Shook out loft find donation to try and get some of the dirt out. Appears to be a corset/stays. A very old one.’

I had carefully unwrapped the stays outside, as I had no idea whether anything was alive in there. Thankfully not. The dirt was mostly dry mud and general grime. No odour and no frass. Previous visits from a rodent had wreaked havoc on one side of the stays.

The stays were largely made up of patches. Patch upon patch. Linen, twill, hessian and something dark blue with a white pattern. There were four tabs at the waist and another that was either patch or tab. They were in a mixture of materials. Vestigial ridges of what looked like boning channels were in there as well. The lacing holes were intact on one side and the thin straps both still in place.

A few days later I had a telephone conversation with the donor who told me that the stays were found in a corner by the eaves of his house when he had had the ceilings down to expose the beams. The pile of cloth he found was so covered in dry mud and hair from the lath and plaster construction of the space, he took it to be a rag and his wife advised him to throw it away. But he decided to bring it to the museum to make sure. Thank goodness.

The house where the stays were found was built as Henfield Workhouse in 1735/6. It closed in 1835, when the inhabitants were sent to the Union Workhouse in Shoreham by Sea.

The building is now four homes and was Grade II listed in March 1955. Over time other concealed objects have been found in different parts of the building; a mummified cat and a bird and a portion of a sheep skull. The stays are the first garment to emerge. Having removed as much of the surface dirt as was safe to do without compromising the piece, I wrapped it in acid free tissue and stored it in a secure box. I needed to find out whether anything live would emerge. Happily nothing did.

So, with the stays safe and boxed, next on my agenda was to explore whether these could have been a deliberately concealed garment. I was extremely lucky to have Dr Dinah Eastop visit Henfield and look at the stays for me. She has a wealth of knowledge and experience in this field. Her summing up says it all really ‘they have seen a lot of service’.

It is impossible to know whether the stays were deliberately concealed or not. They might have been kept as a pattern, or used to stuff into a rat hole or perhaps stolen and hidden and forgotten.

The stays were displayed in the museum for a period, but I recognised that conservation and stabilisation had to be addressed.
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Who better to talk to about this than Zenzie Tinker? (zenzietinker.co.uk)

After I made contact with Zenzie some emails and photographs of the stays were shared and a meeting arranged at her Brighton workshop. She and her staff could not have been kinder; from offering to assist with carrying the stays in to the building to the cup of tea I had there.

I made sure to take with me a history of the workhouse building where they were found, samples of the dirt that had come out of the stays and some fragments of the boning channels that had become detached. I knew I had something special, as some of the conservator staff Immediately gathered round to have a closer look. Zenzie made the point that they were working stays, so even more interesting, as not many utilitarian garments still exist. Her suggestion that the School of Historical Dress would no doubt be interested in seeing them proved very perceptive.

The subsequent report on the stays produced by zenzietinker.co.uk was comprehensive, detailed and fascinating. (I had never realised that there were burn marks on the back despite peering at them for hours) Also, in an act of huge generosity, no fee was charged to Henfield Museum for this professional document.

So, after a few friendly emails back and forth between Professor Jenny Tiramani, Head of the School of Historical Dress, Zenzie and myself, the arrangements were finalised. The School of Historical Dress would take the stays and add them to their prestigious collection. It was a wrench to lose this fascinating piece from the costume collection at Henfield. But by their very uniqueness, they needed to be in a bigger collection where they could be stabilised and conserved as needed. So, four years after first seeing a sad heap on a chair, I was able to complete the exit paperwork for the Henfield stays to go from Henfield Museum to their new home in the School of Historical Dress.

Zenzie’s support for a local museum did not end with the gift of the report, as she conveyed them to their new home personally.

The stays now take their place in the School of Historical Dress collection. In this, their new home, they are amongst their peers and available for study and teaching. Prof Tiramani put it perfectly; ‘We are absolutely enchanted by the stays. They have so many features which are important for us to teach with (and to learn from ourselves). The number of different textiles in them alone is an object lesson!’

This has been one of the most interesting pieces of costume that I have ever researched handled and I am so pleased that it is now at home amongst friends!

Grateful thanks to:

Alan Barwick, Curator Henfield Museum (henfieldmuseum.org)
Zenzie Tinker, Zenzie Tinker Conservation Ltd (zenzietinker.co.uk)
Professor Jenny Tiramani, The School of Historical Dress (theschoolofhistoricaldress.org)
​

​In 1901 a young woman aged thirty-two died at Mockbridge House, Henfield, West Sussex. It is unlikely that anyone in Henfield knew of her passing. The family had rented rooms there from the Bowler family, who were brewers. She had come to stay there with her adopted family during the summer months in the last two years of her life: her name was Margaret Fairless Dowson, the author of the book The Roadmender. The book was written under her pen name of Michael Fairless, and was published in 1902 by her family six months after her death. ‘Michael’, her pen name, was taken from a child who she met though the Dowson family, and who, according to Mary Emily Dowson, became Sir Michael Joseph McDonnell CBE (1882-1956), Chief Justice of Palestine from 1927 to 1936: ‘Fairless’ was her father’s Christian name. The book became a best seller, about fifty reprints were produced between 1902 and 1930 and an estimated 300,000 copies of the book were sold, reaching as far afield as Australia.

Margaret was a private person, and did not seek publicity. Her adopted family respected her wish after her death, but with the success of her book much speculation arose about who the author was, and the whereabouts of the ‘Roadmender Country’ of which she wrote. Her family thought it was better to put the record straight, so in 1909 they published Michael Fairless Life and Writings. Her married sister Agnes Marion Haggard dealt with her life history, and her adopted mother Mary Emily Dowson, under the pen name of William Scott Palmer, dealt with her literary works. A potted version of her life story, as told by her sister, is covered in the following paragraphs, with additional content being added by the author of this article. What was not divulged by the family was where she had stayed in Sussex, and where she was buried.

​Margaret was born at Castle Hill House, Rastrick, West Yorkshire on the 7th May 1869, and was known by her family first of all as ‘Baba’, and later as Marjorie. She came from a middle-class family; her father Fairless Barber was a lawyer, and her mother Maria was a cultivated woman who had studied French, German, and Italian. Margaret was brought up surrounded by books, and by the age of twelve had read all of Charles Dickens, and most of Sir Walter Scott, and could also play chess. She had psychic gifts, and was telepathic to a high degree, something she inherited from her mother. It was her mother, and sister Agnes, who provided her early education. Aged about thirteen she went away to boarding school at Torquay. This was followed by a period at another private school called ‘Saxonhurst’ in Etchingham Park Road, North Finchley, London. The school was run by Miss Boyer-Brown, who it was said was ‘far from appreciating her.’ Obviously, she was a strong-willed child who liked to get her own way. She actually received very little formal education.

Her father died unexpectedly in 1881 aged fifty while away at Hillingdon, Uxbridge. After the death of her husband Maria Barber moved to Hoxne in Suffolk, probably to be near her married daughter Agnes, who was living at Ditchingham, and had married John George Haggard (1850-1908) in 1886. It was in Suffolk that Maria died in 1891 aged fifty-eight. Margaret’s other sister Mabel had married Joseph Oliver in 1883, and initially lived at Castle Hill House, but died at Sedbergh, Yorkshire in 1906 aged 43 years.

With both her sisters married, Margaret was now on her own. She spent some time back at Torquay nursing an ailing relative. This was followed by a period working in a small children’s hospital on the outskirts of London, and then doing philanthropic work in a slum area of East London known as ‘The Jago.’ She also travelled abroad, and spent quite a lot of time in Germany where she stayed with a friend in a village on the Rhine.

​Margaret grew very tall, and had suffered from spinal weakness since her teenage years, which limited what she was able to do. This got worse as time went by, and by about 1895 she was virtually an invalid, and being cared for by what her family described as; “a decrepit old woman as a maid, and a mentally borderline girl as her temporary ward,” in a gate lodge to a derelict country house on the Bath Road. It was around this time, on an errand, that she came into contact with the Dowson family, who lived in London at 91 Cheyne Walk, on the Chelsea Embankment. Joseph Dowson was a civil engineer, and his wife Mary as well as being an author, was also a qualified physician. Margaret and the Dowson family had shared interests i.e. literary, scientific, and artistic. She became very ill whilst staying with the Dowsons, but after some months made a partial recovery, and ended up staying with the family for the rest of her life. They became in effect her new family, and under a deed dated 10th March 1896 she formally took the name Dowson, to the disapproval of certain members of the Barber family. Her sister Agnes however approved, because she knew she would be well cared for during her periods of illness, and would be able to follow her artistic bent in whatever direction it took her.

​As Margaret became more housebound, she took to modelling in clay again, something she had done whilst at Torquay. She produced a wonderful crucifix in a 14th century design, which she presented to St. John the Baptist Church in Pimlico Road, London. Sometime later the church was demolished, but the crucifix and altar found a new home in nearby St. Barnabas Church, in St. Barnabas Street, where they remain to this day. In the last year or two of her life, when ill health prevented her modelling, she turned to writing. Near the end of her life this too became more and more difficult, and finally she had to dictate the words to her books.

In the summer months, to get away from the heat and noise of London, the family came to stay at Mockbridge House. Frank Bowler would fetch the family from Partridge Green station in his brewer’s van. Margaret slept in the downstairs room of the house, which opened out onto the garden. She would spend many hours outside under her favourite sycamore tree, which Mr Bowler had planted many years before. It was here, and in London, that she wrote her book The Roadmender. It was first serialised in a magazine called The Pilot, before being published as a book on the 28th February 1902.

She finished proof reading her other book, The Gathering of Brother Hilarius, shortly before her death, and it was first published in 1901. The other book credited to her is The Grey Brethren, a collection of her stories, poems, and sketches, which was published in 1905, and went to at least a ninth reprint in 1920. Margaret was also working on another untitled book, the beginning of which was printed as an appendix in the 1930s reprints of The Roadmender, along with some of the letters she had written. She was a prolific writer of letters, and would sign them as Marjorie Dowson, rather than Margaret Dowson. The untitled book is similar in style to her other works, and features a man named Toutseul on his travels: she also wrote four children’s stories.

A lot of what appears in her books is taken from her life experiences. An example of this in The Roadmender is describing travelling in a wagon to the mill, which echoes her experience of travelling in Bowler’s brewery van; described in one of her letters. The second half of The Roadmender is really a diary covering the last few months of her life. She was aware her life would be cut short, and wrote her will dated 8th June 1899 at the age of thirty. The sole beneficiary in her will was her adopted mother, who was to receive £2,625, about £240,000 in today’s money.

After many hours of unconsciousness, her family by her bedside, the end came in the early hours of the morning of the 24th August 1901. Her sister Agnes picked some wild pansies from the garden and placed them in the form of a cross on her chest. On the death certificate her adopted father is named as being present at her death, and her adopted mother certified the death. The causes of death were TB, which she had suffered from for two years, and kidney failure. It was her wish to be buried in nearby St. Giles’ churchyard at Shermanbury, but this was not possible as it had been closed to burials in the late 1800s; instead, she was buried on the eastern side of St James's churchyard, at Ashurst, only 2½ miles away from Mockbridge House as the crow flies. Her body was taken to the church in the brewery van, which was decorated in evergreen foliage. Her friend Walter Frere took the service; he was later to become Bishop of Truro between 1923 and 1935.

Margaret did not write for personal gain, instead it was done to support her charitable work. She only became famous after her death through the success of her book The Roadmender.

In 1915 the author of The Roadmender’s Country, Arthur Henry Anderson, started to take an interest in the mystery of her abode in Sussex, and her place of burial, but this was then put on hold until after WW1. The big clue in The Roadmender book was the mention of St. Hugh’s Monastery, which is about one mile north of Mockbridge House. In the book she writes: “The bell rings out crisp and clear from the Monastery where the bedesmen of St. Hugh watch and pray for our souls on this labouring forgetful earth. When the wind is north the sound carries as far as my road.” She also talks of the ‘lean grey downs’ keeping watch and ward between the country and the sea. This refers to the South Downs, about three miles away to the south, which she could see from Mockbridge House.

She talks of the cry of a peacock strayed from the great house: the house would have been Ewhurst Manor, about half a mile away to the north. In the book she also talks a lot about being out in the garden at Mockbridge House. On page one of The Roadmender, she says: “opposite me is a white gate, seldom used, if one may judge from the trail of honeysuckle growing tranquilly along it: I know now that whenever and wherever I die my soul will pass out through this white gate; and then, thank God, I shall not have need to undo that trail.” A number of farm gates were painted white around this area, and one is depicted in a photograph which hung in Mockbridge House.

Arthur Henry Anderson resumed his research in 1921, and placed an article in the Observer newspaper on the 21st August that year, to mark the 20th anniversary of her death. In it he mentions the mystery that still remains regarding where she died, and her final resting place. The article initiated a response from Revd. A. W. Powell, of St. Andrew’s Church, Minley in Hampshire, who said she was buried at Ashurst. Another response came from a reader who didn’t give his name, but called himself ‘A limbless survivor of the war’ who confirmed she stayed at Mockbridge House. This man was actually Percy Bowler, the son of the brewer, who had lost a leg in WW1. His brother Frank was killed in the war. Percy also had a sister Marjorie Annie who was born in 1901. In The Roadmender book the author writes: “There is a child here, a happy quiet little creature holding gently to its two months of life. Sometimes they lay it beside me, I the more helpless of the two – perhaps the more ignorant – and equally dependent for the supply of the smallest need.” That little girl was Marjorie Annie Bowler, and the author became her Godmother. Mary Dowson also responded to the article confirming the facts. She also stated that the little church at the foot of the grey green down mentioned in her book was not actually at Sussex, but she didn’t divulge its whereabouts. There had been speculation that it could have been either St Andrew’s Church at Edburton, or Buncton Chapel at Wiston. At the time of the articles appearing in the paper the Dowson family were living at Landhurst Wood, a large estate at Hartfield in East Sussex. Marjorie’s national fame resulted in photographers producing postcards of her grave. There are three known examples of these being produced in the 1920s and 1930s. 

The villages around Shermanbury became known as ‘The Roadmender Country,’ and other books were written about the area, including The Roadmender Country by Lorma Leigh, first published in 1922. Henfield Museum has some original letters addressed to the Bowler family written by the author, and Mary Dowson, together with photographs which appear in this article. These were donated to the museum in 2010 by Mrs Doe from Croydon, who had connections with the Bowler family.

So what happened to the people who featured in Margaret Fairless Dowson’s life? Joseph Emerson Dowson died at Hartfield in 1940 aged 95 years. His wife Mary Emily died at Hartfield in 1941 aged 93 years. The couple’s two children never married: Maud Hamilton Dowson died at Tunbridge Wells, Kent in 1957 aged 83 years, and her sister Elinor Mary, also at Tunbridge Wells in 1976 aged 98 years. Margaret’s sister Agnes Marion Haggard died in a nursing home at Torquay, Devon, in 1960 aged 100 years, and her husband Lt. John George Haggard in Malaga, Spain in 1908 aged 58 years whilst in the Consular Service.

Regarding the Bowler family; they fell on hard times, and gave up the brewery at Mockbridge in c. 1916, and moved to 3, Croft Villas, Church Street, Henfield. Frank became a gardener, and son Percy was a rent collector. By 1929 the family had moved to a cottage called Arcleven at the northern end of Henfield High Street. It was here that Charlotte (Frank’s wife) died in 1932 aged 67 years, and Frank in 1944 aged 82 years. Percy was now doing upholstery work, re-caning chairs, and gardening, and Marjorie Annie worked at the Violet Nursery on Henfield Common. There was also a handicapped woman living with them as a lodger. Percy died in 1966 at the age of 70 years, and Marjorie Annie in 1979 aged 78 years. The last few years of her life being spent in Upper Mead Nursing Home, in Upper Station Road, Henfield.

​According to local architectural historian Annabelle Hughes, the cottage itself was probably built around 1550, based upon its original three bay construction, central smoke bay without chimney and sans-purlin coupled rafter roof. The eastern section was added on, likely a generation or so after construction. From 1872, the resident was one Robert 'Bob' Ward and his wife, Eliza (née Boon, of Ringmer). The cottage was then known as 'Leaches', although more delicate locals were sometimes wont to rebrand it as 'Beeches'. Born in Henfield in 1815 to John and Sarah (née Peskett), Robert was one of an even then impressive, fourteen siblings. A skilled carpenter and joiner by trade, he and his family lived at Hacketts Cottage, then divided into three tenements. Working with his older brother William, they had the shortest possible stroll to work at the yard by the cemetery lych-gate.

​Ward's early handiwork can still be admired in the museum, including the glorious novelty of the Change 8 Bell musical set. Completed in 1849 (or once suggested, 1830) - apparently after two years' work in the evenings - it was at one time displayed in the Vicarage Garden and arrived in the collection via the Tobitt family. Also displayed, a folding table now used for museum gifts, and a finely carved treasure box. It may also be wondered if the strikingly designed table in our rather stern (possibly long suffering!) photograph of Eliza is her husband's work. A man of strong religion, he took too an interest in local history, with an idiosyncratic hand drawn and neatly annotated village map of his now residing in the museum collection.

1862, and the other player in our story had entered the stage from what was soon to be a position on high. Moving into the imposing (albeit since enlarged) Martyn Lodge from nearby Shoreham, he was Nathaniel Woodard, freshly minted in 1870 as Canon of Manchester Cathedral by Prime Minister Gladstone. A man of energy, he is best known today for founding various private schools aimed at the middle classes, reflecting the necessity of home education in his own youth. Starting while a Curate at Shoreham, what was to become a grand project of eight schools bloomed locally with Lancing, Ardingly and Hurstpierpoint colleges. He did not though neglect Henfield, soon after arrival inviting both local worthies and those of lesser means (the latter of course ate in the kitchen!) to enjoy a Christmas meal at his expense. However, his main local legacy was his initiation, along with the Borrer family and other locals of means, of the ambitious rebuilding of much of Henfield Church in 1870. This was at high cost and using the same accomplished architects responsible for Lancing College's famous chapel.

​It is quite possible that the old Henfieldian Ward was not impressed by the newcomer's disruptive efforts - or perhaps opposed his High Church Tractarianism. It was said by local Vicar and historian Henry de Candole that three wooden, painted panels depicting the Ten Commandments, the Creed and the Lord’s Prayer were displayed at the head and foot of Ward's bed. These were probably those taken out during the 1870 church reordering - the family being long in the trade, perhaps they had also been made by a Ward forebear. After Ward's death, they were ultimately returned to St. Peter's (where they are held in store as of writing). A former canon law rescinded in the 19th century had required them to be displayed, probably being on either side of the High Altar. Helpfully written on the back of the largest panel - the Commandments - the dates '1777' and '1870' and the text 'In this Church 93 years', presumably added when they were removed.

​At this point the infamous story of the cat and canary arises. Ward kept canaries and Woodard a cat. The two mixed one day to fatal result and Ward seemingly made it his mission in life to use his skills to remind Woodard of his negligence, and his cat's victim. Multiple weatherboards with metal cat and canary figures were erected on the house, with a wire supposedly being connected to a line of scallop shells and bells, which would be rung every time Ward saw Woodard walking past on his way up to St. Peter's from nearby Martyn Lodge. Slightly unbelievably in any other scenario, the story goes that Ward would also blow loudly on a ram's horn from the 'Zulu Hole' at the approach of Woodard (and perhaps also of his cat?). That is, until neighbours stepped in to prevent this excitingly ridiculous new village soundscape. Probably a reference to the contemporary Anglo-Zulu War of 1879, the hole still exists and it wouldn't be beyond the realms of reason to think that someone at the time may have made allusion to that greater conflict in the light of the local feud.

​Although nothing of it remains today, the garden also appears to have ended up fully dedicated to the cause. We're lucky that this striking spectacle does not only have to be imagined. A painting in the museum collection by M. Russell is helpfully signed off on the back by Ward to be 'a true sketch of my house c. 1882'. Our view is from an angle now obscured by the brick house built next door around 1900. What may be the man himself can be seen standing in front in Sussex smock, pointing to the scene. Two suns and several all-seeing eyes looked out in addition to a line of trumpeting cats of Jericho erected along the garden fence, with accompanying boards with references to lines from the Old Testament, including the Book of Joshua: 'Sun stand thou still upon Gibeon'.

​A head of Joshua also hung down with its accompanying lines, whilst an image of a cannon was no doubt starkly symbolic. On the house itself, a long since gone plaque stated, slightly intimidatingly, 'This old house has got eyes before and behind to watch the old liar'. However, another sign in the garden stated 'False charge of damage to hedge and fence', indicating that other disputes perhaps also lay behind what was no doubt an elaborate entertainment for many, but an ongoing trial for Woodard. It may be imagined what Ward's wife Eliza thought of the matter, let alone the Canon himself. Publicly described by his contemporary Bishop George Selwyn as 'one of the most candid and straightforward men I have ever met', the undignified spectacle was all probably somewhat perturbing!

Seemingly first published in print in a half page article in the first volume of the Sussex County Magazine in 1927: 'A Queer Story About a Sussex Cottage', the tale had clearly been doing the local rounds for the half century prior, certainly losing some facts - and perhaps gaining some myths in the process. Indeed, the author 'E.S.' notes that they had also heard of an alternative interpretation whereby the cats were symbolic of Ward's (lack of) regard for Woodard as merely the 'cat's paw' of the people. In Henfield, Elizabeth McDougall most recently revisited the tale in print for BN5 in October 2009, while an excerpt from this article is also currently displayed in Church Lane for curious visitors. Many will also recall the former Cat & Canary pub (previously the Station Hotel and now the Old Railway) taking this story for its unusual name. The Cat House and story in brief has popped up from time to time in county magazines, local merchandise and on social media and can no doubt be relied upon to do so again in years to come.

How much has been embellished or redirected from fiery theological disagreement purely onto the cat and canary incident is open to debate. At the least, both men can be said to have left some fine achievements to posterity - and an even finer story to this Sussex village. Ward died in 1889, while Eliza lived on until 1899, leaving an estate of £140 16s. Their double grave can be found at the south corner of Henfield churchyard. Woodard meanwhile lived on until 1891, even remarrying to a young Yorkshire bride two years before his death!

​Both men also shared an ability to avoid being pictured. The striking image of Woodard (re-used in a 1911 Denstonian College magazine) is the only one your author can locate, excluding his well-known posthumous portrait, and funerary effigy at Lancing College Chapel. For Ward, we have only a single photograph likely to be of the man - the reverse having an unclear name, but stating 'outside his Cat House'. The image was taken from some distance and appears as if obscured by the mists of the intervening years. Luckily, his features still show through. He sits outside his Cat House with prominent nose, upturned hat, cane, broom and perhaps Sussex smock or apron, one sunny day around 140 years ago.

By Robert S. Gordon, Friends of Henfield Museum, 2024.
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This article was first published in the Henfield Parish Magazine in September 2024. Thanks go to Churchwarden Pat Burdock for kindly showing the old church panels and Henfield Museum Curator Alan Barwick for information on the Ward family.

Next time you visit the museum, remember to take a look at some of Bob Ward's handiwork. Or, take a walk past the Cat House towards St. Peter's in Woodard's footsteps and try to imagine Ward's creative cacophony...

Abstract

Two merchant tokens were issued at Henfield in the 17th century. Both merchants were mercers (clothiers) with Elizabeth Trunnell issuing hers in 1657 and Thomas Pilfold in 1668. It is likely that Thomas Pilfold took over the business from Elizabeth Trunnell, a widow who had contined to operate the mercer’s shop after her husband died in 1654. Thomas Pilfold was then succeeded by his son John who took the business well into the 18th century. The Pilfolds also owned a property called Hedgecocks at Henfield.
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In researching the token issuers, the extended family trees of both families were constructed and used with the many surviving wills to gain insights into their lives. Elizabeth Trunnell’s will shows a very comfortable living for the time and Thomas Pilfold’s will contains rare personal feelings and thoughts as he tries to deal with a wayward son.

Both tokens can be seen at the Henfield Museum.

Background
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During most of the 17th century there was a chronic shortage of small coinage in Britain. To address this, James I and Charles I licenced the manufacture of copper farthings to certain members of the aristocracy. Instances of underweight coins and refusal to redeem the farthings for “real” money created distrust amongst the public, and these licences were eventually withdrawn in 1644. The Civil War, which had started in 1642, then delayed the introduction of a proper solution which was to have an official regal copper currency. However, the merchants of England and Wales could not wait, so between 1648-72 they responded by issuing over 20,000 different base-metal farthing, halfpenny, and penny tokens so they could provide change to customers. Some of these would have been tradeable at the issuing merchant only, but others were widely accepted if it was known that the issuing merchant would honour their value. A number of towns even issued tokens for wider usage in order to facilitate trade amongst the poorer people, such as Midhurst in West Sussex (see Fig. 1). It wasn’t until 1672 that the official farthings, halfpennies, and pennies that we know today were finally introduced and the issuing of tokens banned.

These merchant tokens are of great interest because they usually name the issuer, the town/village where they lived, and often identify the type of business they operated. Such tokens have been collected for over 200 years by numismatists, but it is only in our generation that the resources have become available to thoroughly research the token issuers and their families through online access to parish records, wills and archived documents.

We are indebted to numismatists for their work in developing the knowledge about these tokens and for maintaining a market for serious collectors which has helped to preserve many of them. The standard reference work by Williamson was published between 1889 and 1891, itself a revision of William Boyne’s similarly titled original of 1858. Williamson’s numbering system is still used today to identify a particular token. Sussex BW96 (B[oyne]W[illiamson]96) identifies the token issued by Thomas Pilfold of Henfield in 1668, and Sussex BW97 identifies the token issued by Elizabeth Trunnell of Henfield in 1657. The leading reference today for 17th century West Sussex merchant tokens is the 2009 publication by Ron Kerridge and Rob de Ruiter[1], although much work remains to be done to properly research the many token issuers.

Some 230 of these tokens have been identified in Sussex. This includes die varieties, so the number of different issuers is somewhat less than this. The relatively low number reflects the population and economy in Sussex towns and villages compared to places like London where about three thousand were issued. About one third of the Sussex tokens are undated, and among the dated the earliest to be issued was at East Grinstead in 1650 and the last in 1670 at Midhurst, Petworth and Steyning. The most common occupations of the Sussex token issuers were mercers (31 tokens), grocers (23 tokens), chandlers (16 tokens) and innkeepers (16 tokens).

The Henfield Tokens
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There were two tokens issued at Henfield, a farthing token in 1657 by the widow Elizabeth Trunnell and a halfpenny token in 1668 by Thomas Pilfold, both mercers by trade. Mercers issued more tokens in Sussex that any other occupation and were the equivalent of the retail clothing trade we know today. In the big city a mercer would traditionally deal with silk and other imported fabrics and were regarded as the high-end clothing retailer. On the other hand, a draper would deal with general cloth as used by tailors to serve the wider community. But in a village such as Henfield, said to have had 400 adult parishoners in 1676,[2] many of these lines were blurred and the mercer would deal in linen, wool, and silk, incorporating the draper’s role and sometimes the haberdasher. To become a mercer required an apprenticeship and the cost of this could be substantial, so it was generally only available to the more well-to-do families (for example, Giles Watts who became a mercer at Battle was apprenticed to John Hanfield, a woollen draper in Ashford, Kent in 1710 at a cost of £45)[3].

Elizabeth Trunnell was one of a number of widows who issued a token in Sussex. It was she and Alice Charmayne of Arundel who were the earliest to do so, at least in the tokens that were dated (about a third were issued undated). Her husband John Trunnell, a mercer, had died in 1654 leaving everything to Elizabeth[4], and her token shows that she was successful in keeping the business going. At that time, Elizabeth had five surviving children: Ann, John, Richard, Robert and Thomas who were all adults with only Thomas yet to be married. Records show that John became a mercer at Henfield, Richard a mercer at Hurstpierpoint, Robert a shoemaker at Henfield, and Thomas a barber-surgeon at Hurstpierpoint.[5],[6],[7]  

​In 1657, when the token was issued, Elizabeth was probably operating the mercer shop at Henfield with the help of her eldest son John as there are records that show he was a mercer and living at Henfield.[8]  Her second son Richard was working as a mercer at Hurstpierpoint, a village about 5 miles away. There is an undated farthing token that was issued at Hurstpierpoint by the mercer Thomas Donstall [Dunstall] with his initials T.P. The lack of an initial for his wife Elizabeth, who he married on 11 Jan 1659, suggests that it was issued before then. Thomas Dunstall also came from Henfield[9] and these common connections make one wonder if Richard was working for Dunstall and whether his experience at Hurstpierpoint influenced Elizabeth in her decision to issue her token, or vice versa. Sadly, Richard died in 1657, the year Elizabeth’s token was issued, at age 31 years.

Something very interesting comes to light in the will of Thomas Dunstall’s brother, John, who wrote his will at Henfield on 13 May 1659, at the age of 25 years, stating that he is “sick in body but of good & perfect rememberance”. He must have been aware that he was going to die as he was buried just four days later. A witness to the will was none other than John Trunnell, eldest son of the widow Elizabeth, the token issuer. Surprisingly, he also died and was buried 15 days after witnessing the will, at 36 years of age. This was a tragedy for Elizabeth as she had lost Richard and now John, the eldest son, who was clearly positioned to take over the business. One is left to wonder if, in witnessing the will, John Trunnell also contracted the sickness that was afflicting John Dunstall. Smallpox comes to mind, a disease which can cause death, usually within 8 to 16 days of infection. It is a contagious disease, spread easily in a household setting, through the air or on objects like bedding and clothing.
​
The deaths of Richard and John meant that there was no successor for the business, as her other two sons had not been trained as mercers. With Elizabeth an elderly woman, the opportunity was there for Thomas Pilfold to take over the business. His token was issued in 1668 indicating that he was established at Henfield by then.

Elizabeth died in 1673, at about 80 years of age, and was buried at Henfield St Peter. Her youngest son Thomas had died two years earlier at 37 years of age and he had neither wife nor children.[10] She was survived by her son Robert Trunnell, the shoemaker, and her daughter Ann Jenner so it is possible that Elizabeth has descendants alive today who can claim a connection to her and her token.
Elizabeth’s will deals mostly with her personal items, as any land or property belonging to her deceased husband would probably have been passed to her children long ago. In any event, her son Robert is left the residue of the estate so if there was anything not specified in the will, he was to receive it.[11]
​
Elizabeth’s personal items show that she must have had a very comfortable living. Her will mentions three rooms in her house: a hall with a chimney, a separate lodging chamber and a milk house, and there were probably more. She is well endowed with beds, sheets, pillowcoats, blankets and towels; table cloths and napkins; pewter plates, platters, candlesticks and flagons; brass pots and kettles as well as furniture such as cupboards, chests for clothes of linen and wool, a small table at the foot of her bed, a gilt leather chair, stools, and bullrush chairs; an iron spit, pothanger, iron cleaver, tongs and gridiron; wooden bowls and platters; two velvet cushions, a carpet, hats, a gilt hat brush, a spinning wheel and a pewter chamber pot!

The Trunnell Family

While it was Elizabeth who issued the token it seems appropriate to mention her husband John Trunnell, who would have started the business at Henfield. The surname Trunnell is a local name and a variant of Trundle, possibly connected to a hillfort known as The Trundle at Singleton, West Sussex.[12] Unfortunately, the surname disappears from Sussex. There are no Trunnell entries in the Sussex Marriage Index after 1675 and none for Trundle/Trendle after 1739.

The last Trunnell family left in Sussex in the 1500s were reasonably wealthy. In 1561, John Trunnell purchased Nyton farm in Aldingbourne, which still exists today.[13] It is his grandson John who became the mercer at Henfield. His father Robert died when John was about 8 years old, and in his will custody of John is given to Henry Potter, a preacher and brother-in-law: [14]
​
 “… to kepe him att School att some of the universities of this land and do allowe him for his mayntenance xijli [£12] yerely so long as he shalbe charged with my said sonne”.
​
We know that John became a mercer with a business at Henfield, so it must have later been decided that an apprenticeship was the best option for him. He married Elizabeth Healy, the token issuer, on 27 September 1614 at Thursley in Surrey and they first appear at Henfield in 1616 when their daughter Elizabeth is baptised there. Five of their eight children grew to adulthood and all the male children were taught a trade. He died in 1654 at age 63 years, unaware of the sadness and disappointment that Elizabeth would later experience. Only their son Robert, the shoemaker who married and stayed behind at Henfield, was able to take the Trunnell surname into the next generation, but with no male heir his burial in 1710 is the last time we see the Trunnell name in Sussex.

Thomas Pilfold’s origins are harder to trace than the Trunnell’s. He may have been born in 1632 at Billingshurst to Thomas Pilfold, a yeoman, but this is not certain. The earliest evidence of Thomas at Henfield is the baptism of his son Thomas on 14 Mar 1660 which gives the best estimate for when he took over the business.[15] While there is no record of his marriage,[16] he and wife Elizabeth had seven children, all making it through to adulthood.

In 1668 he issued his halfpenny token at Henfield (Fig. 4) which shows the “Mercers’ Maiden” surrounded by the initials for Thomas and Elizabeth Pilfold. The “Mercers’ Maiden” (Fig. 5), taken from the Worshipful Company of Mercers’ coat of arms, was used on many 17th century tokens to identify the mercer’s trade.

Thomas died in 1687 and his will expresses his desire to be buried inside the church at Henfield.[17] The will shows that he was greatly vexed by his eldest son Thomas whose inheritance was subject to:
​
“whensoever it shall please God that he returns to his right mind, becomes dutiful & respectful to his mother & relations, & diligently follows his calling & employment”.

Not wanting to disinherit his son, he gave the following bequests with conditions:
​

• To Thomas Pilfold, eldest son – the dwelling house in Henfield except for the south end which is to be Elizabeth’s for the term of her natural life. Thomas to pay Elizabeth £11 13s 8d per year.
• To Thomas Pilfold, eldest son - all the goods & wares in the shop and in the chamber over the shop and paying £100 each to eldest daughter Elizabeth and third daughter Jane.

Trustees were appointed in the event that Thomas did not:

 “… behave himself dutifully to his mother & diligent in his calling” and if he should continue to “spend & by his negligence waste whatsoever he hath in his own disposing”.  In that case he was to “stand to the Curtesy & Allowance of his mother, Elizabeth Pilfold my wife to whom alone I doe hereby give ye aforesayd house, goods & wares with all the appurtenances thereunto belonging to be solely at her disposing to all intents & purposes”.
​
So, he was given a chance to redeem himself. It is not known what Thomas did during his life, but he died in 1737 at age 77 years and was buried at Henfield. His mother’s will made in 1713 does treat Thomas kindly, with a bequest of £6, some household goods and forgiveness of debts.[18]

It was the second son, John Pilfold, who seems to have been the diligent and responsible person that Thomas had hoped to see in his eldest son. John became a mercer at Henfield, presumably continuing his father’s shop. He received the following bequest in his father’s will in 1687:
​

• To John Pilfold, second son - the new house, outhouses gardens, orchards on one acre of land in Blaxton [Blackston] Street in Woodmancote, after the decease of his mother Elizabeth.

There are records of two apprentices that John took on: [19]
​
1 May 1713: William Fowle, son of Thomas (yeoman) of Albourne, apprenticed to John Pilfold mercer of Henfield.
3 February 1725: Peter Hill, son of Edward Hill of Woodmancote, apprenticed to John Pilfold mercer of Henfield.[20]

John died in 1751 and his will shows him to be quite wealthy.[21] He had no male heir though, being survived by daughters Jane and Mary who both married well. It is not known who took over the mercer shop in Henfield, but it could have been one of the apprentices (the apprentice William Fowle was the son of John’s brother-in-law Thomas Fowle).

John’s will shows that he held the copyhold property called Hedgecocks at Henfield, held of the Manor of Stretham. He passed this to his wife for the term of her natural life and then to his married daughter Mary Dennett, wife of John Dennett Esq. of Woodmancote He also left his house in Henfield to his his wife for the term of her natural life and then to his married daughter Jane Langrish, wife of Robert Langrish, apothecary of Midhurst. There is no mention of the Blackston Street property at Woodmancote that John inherited from his father.

​Conclusion
 
All artefacts help to bring history to life, and the two tokens issued at Henfield are no exception. The issuers were prosperous merchants who nevertheless had to deal with raising a family, educating their children, coping with the mortality of their children and spouses, and even dealing with problem children as adults. They are the same issues that families have today, though thankfully we do not suffer the mortality rates they had in the 17th century. The tokens are a reminder of “Old Henfield” and rightfully deserve their place in the Henfield Museum.

By Geoffrey Barber
7 July 2023
[email protected]

References & Footnotes

Our grateful thanks go to Geoffrey Barber for his submission of this article for publication via Henfield Museum. For a picture of Henfield at the time the tokens were minted, read our 2021 article written on our acquisition of these tokens.

All wills cited have been transcribed and given to the Sussex Family History Group Wills Depository which currently holds over 13,500 transcriptions. Copies are freely available to members.

[1] Kerridge R. and de Ruiter, R “The Tokens, Metallic Tickets, Checks and Passes of West Sussex, 1650-1950”. (2009)
[2] Sussex Archaeological Collections, Vol 45, “A Religious Census of Sussex in 1676”, p.144
[3] Sussex Record Society, Vol 28. (1924) “Sussex Apprentices and Masters 1710-1752”, p.20
[4] Will of John Trunnell the Elder, Mercer of Henfield, Sussex, England, made 10 Jul 1654, proved in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury, 16 May 1655. (TNA: PROB 11/245/247).
[5] Will of Richard Trunnell, Mercer of Hurstpierpoint, Sussex, England, made 3 Aug 1657, proved in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury, 19 Sep 1657. (TNA: PROB 11/267/456).
[6] Deed of Feoffment, 28 Mar 1670. (ESRO: SAS-EG/111) – refers to Robert Trunnell as shoemaker and Richard Trunnell his brother as mercer. Also refers to deceased brother, John Trunnell as mercer.
[7] Will of Thomas Trunnell, Barber Surgeon of Hurstpierpoint, Sussex, England, made 21 Dec 1670, proved in the Archdeaconry Court of Lewes, 14 Jan 1671. (ESRO: PBT 1/1/32/124).
[8] Deed of feoffment, 28 Mar 1670 (WSRO: SAS-EG/111) - shows that John held land at Henfield. He was also buried there on 28 May 1659.
[9] Thomas Dunstall was baptised 18 Dec 1633 at Henfield, son of John and Elizabeth Dunstall. The will of his uncle Thomas Dunstall of Henfield, proved 31 Jul 1660 (TNA: PROB 11/299/784) and brother John Dunstall of Henfield, proved 27 Jun 1659 (TNA: PROB 11/293/515) confirm this. An interesting fact is that Thomas Donstall’s son became the Rev. John Donstall who was rector at Newtimber (1687-1733) and South Stoke (1706-1733).
​[10] Will of Thomas Trunnell, Barber Surgeon of Hurstpierpoint, Sussex, England, made 21 Dec 1670, proved in the Archdeaconry Court of Lewes, 14 Jan 1671. (ESRO: PBT 1/1/32/124).
[11] Will of Elizabeth Trunnell, Widow of Henfield, Sussex, England, made 20 May 1673, proved in the Archdeaconry Court of Lewes, 20 May 1674. (ESRO: PBT 1/1/34/6C).
[12] The Oxford Dictionary of Family Names in Britain and Ireland (2016)
[13] Bargain and Sale (unenrolled), 14 Jun 1561. (WSRO: ADD MSS/13135)
[14] Will of Robert Trunnell of Bosham, Sussex, England, made 12 Oct 1598, proved in the Archdeaconry Court of Chichester, 19 Dec 1610. (WSRO: Ep/I/27/STC II/Folder U-W).
​[15] This baptism incorrectly records the mother’s name as Mary. Subsequent baptisms have the mother’s name as Elizabeth.
[16] There is a marriage of a Thomas Pilfold to an Elizabeth Wheeler on 5 Aug 1657 at Billingshurst. However, it looks like an older Thomas Pilfold as it states “Thomas PILFOLD, yeoman of this parish, Alderman City of Chichester. Elizabeth WHEELER daughter of Thomas WHEELER gent whose former husband was Mr NATT”.
[17] Will of Thomas Pilfold of Henfield, Sussex, England, made 9 May 1687, proved in the Archdeaconry Court of Lewes, 17 Jun 1687. (ESRO: PBT 1/1/38/40).
[18] Will of Elizabeth Pilfold of Henfield, Sussex, England, made 8 Jul 1713, proved in the Archdeaconry Court of Lewes, 3 Jun 1724. (ESRO: PBT 1/1/51/307).
[19] Sussex Record Society, Vol 28. (1924) “Sussex Apprentices and Masters 1710-1752”.
[20] It is interesting to note that Peter Hill is the grandson of Richard Trunnell’s widow from her marriage to Thomas Goffe in 1661.
[21] Will of John Pilfold of Henfield, Sussex, England, made 13 Jan 1749, proved in the Archdeaconry Court of Lewes, 28 Mar 1751. (ESRO: PBT/1/1/58/353).

Tucked away in the storeroom in Henfield Museum is a box containing a brass regimental belt badge with the number 57, a laurel wreath and the name “Albuhera”.  Being interested in regimental cap badges I did a bit of research and uncovered a very interesting story of one of the most brutal battles in the war against Napoleon, and a connection with Henfield!

The badge belonged to a Daniel Caplin who was born in Woodmancote in 1786 and signed up to join the army in 1808.  He was illiterate and his name was misspelt as Kepland or sometimes Keply.  His army pay would have been 6d per day or 3d if sick.  In 1810 he travelled to Jersey in the Channel Islands and then on to Portugal where he spent 2 days in hospital, and then marched to join Wellington’s Peninsular campaign.  35,000 British, Spanish and Portuguese soldiers under Field Marshal Sir William Beresford converged on the Spanish village of Albuhera.  Facing them were 25,000 French soldiers under the renowned Marshal Soult, who was intent on relieving the besieged fortress of Badajos about 15 miles distant.  Fierce and bloody, the pendulum of battle hung in the balance.  The French feigned a frontal attack on the village and held the Allied army there, with their main force moving under cover of the high ground to assault the right flank of the Allied army.  The Spanish fought with bravery, but began to falter under the onslaught of French musketry.

Seeing what was happening an Allied division was sent to help the Spanish.  A sudden torrential downpour rendered all the infantry muskets useless.  Napoleon sent in the French/Polish Lancers who created their trademark chaos in the British lines; the battalions were decimated and the Regimental colours were captured.  The 57th (with Daniel Caplin) moved up to support the faltering right flank.  A lucky break in the weather allowed the redcoats to use their muskets again and they began raking the loose formations of rampaging enemy Lancers.
​
In the panic and confusion some of the British unknowingly started to fire into the backs of the main British and Portuguese battalions, obscured by thick smoke.  Colonel Inglis stood in front of his men commanding them to “order arms”.  This act of courage saved many people’s lives that day.

The 57th advanced to the front line and towards the mass of French infantry moving in their famed column of attack.  Both sides fought to a standstill and the 57th were amongst the hardest hit.  Colonel Inglis was hit in the neck and chest by French canister shot (a canister packed with lead shot that when fired from a canon burst in mid-flight scattering lead shot over a large area); he stayed on the battlefield and was heard to cry “Die hard, the 57th. Die hard!”

Sources:
​
From the Henfield Museum collection:
- 57th Infantry Regiment of Foot cross belt buckle (2008/11)
- Framed water colour painting of Pte. Daniel Caplin of the 57th West Middlx Regiment of Foot, in uniform of c. 1811, painted by Ray Kirkpatrick of Epsom Surrey in 2003 (2008/11/P1)
- Maps (2008/11/P7, 2008/11/P6)
- Brief typed history of Daniel Caplin (unpublished, 2008/11/P2)
- Copy of 1814 discharge papers of Daniel Caplin (2008/11/P5)

- MilitaryHistory.org, The Diehards - Regiment Profile, 2010 (accessed June 2021)
- International Military Antiques, Original British Early 19th Century Cross Belt Plate from the 57th Regiment of Foot (accessed June 2021)
​

James William Vinall was born and lived his entire life in Henfield in the early 20th century. His paternal grandfather was reputed to be of South Asian descent, and he was known for having a distinctly Asian appearance, not something common in Henfield at the time and an early example of diversity in the village. He was very much part of the Henfield community, but his life was tragically cut short in 1945 due to extraordinary and harrowing events that took place while he served with the RAF in World War II.

James’s early life and contribution to the community
​
James (who more commonly went by the name Jim or Jimmy) was born on the 30 June, 1904.  His parents, James Sr. and Fanny Vinall nee Browning, were also from Henfield.  His South Asian ancestry is said to have come via his paternal grandmother, Jane Vinall, also originally from Henfield, who conceived his father while unmarried and working as a seamstress in France.

Jim’s extended family owned the successful Henfield Vinall's Builders business and he and his father worked as builders for the company.  He was very much involved with the Henfield community throughout his life.  He played for the Henfield Cricket club from 1921 to 1939 and was also club secretary before the war.  He played for the Henfield Football club and is seen in the photo below in the 1936/37 season, also being pictured with the Henfield Boy Scouts Troop c. 1914. At the Henfield Museum on the rear wall, you can spot him in the large photograph of the High Street (c. 1911), riding his bike as a child.  He married Laurie Evelyn Vinall (née Lunnon) of Rottingdean.

The ill-fated flight mission

​During World War II he joined the RAF Volunteer Reserve, serving as Flight Engineer - despite being over the age where he would normally have had to serve on active combat missions.  On the 14 March 1945, he and a crew of airmen were part of a specialised B-17 radar jamming squadron supporting a bombing attack on the German oil plant at Lutzkendorf (now part of the town of Braunsbedra). Their plane was hit by German flak and the engine caught fire. It seemed that the plane was going to crash so the pilot ordered his crew to parachute out.  The pilot went to follow them but was caught up in oxygen tubing so was delayed.  By the time he disentangled himself he was too low to safely bail out. However, the fire had extinguished itself and remarkably he was able to fly back to England safely, albeit without the others in the crew, including James, who had already bailed out - likely somewhat of a father figure to the crew at the age of 40, he had been the last to leave after checking that the rest had got out.

Jim and the crew landed safely near the French border but were captured soon after by the Germans. Two members of the crew were separated and moved to a POW camp, but James and the remaining airmen were taken to a prison in Pforzheim, a region that had recently been heavily bombed.  On their way there, they stopped at a village called Huchenfeld where they were to be held for the night in the boiler room of a school.
​
As the region had recently been bombed and suffered heavy casualties and destruction, the population were no doubt very angry.  An SA officer at a nearby village, Dillstein, heard the airmen were close and rallied the Hitler youth of the region to confront them.  Jim and the crew were forced out of the boiler room and confronted by an angry crowd.  Fearing for their lives, some of the crewmen tried to escape, causing a commotion.  In the chaos, James and several others were able to escape, each in different directions.  Sadly, though, four of the men were quickly rounded up and shot in the nearby cemetery.  Jim was captured the next day and was briefly held in a police station in Dillstein, before being taken outside where he was beaten with a heavy stick until he collapsed. At this point a 15-year-old Hitler Youth member who had apparently lost his mother and five siblings in the bombing shot him dead.

The other escaped men were also eventually recaptured but were held as POWs before being released at the end of the war. The case was tried by a war crimes tribunal after the war.  The youths who shot the crewmen were given 15-year or 12-year jail sentences.  But it was determined the Nazi officers and local officials who had instigated the killing and provided weapons were guilty to a more severe degree and three were hanged for their crimes.

Reconciliation
​
47 years later, in 1992, the priest and several congregation members of the church in Huchenfeld, the German village where four of the men were killed, were so stirred by the terrible events that had happened, that they organised for a plaque to be mounted in the village church, memorialising the murdered crewmen.  The widow of one of the crewmen who had been shot was present for a special church service. 

​She had come in reconciliation and wanted to offer her forgiveness.  During the service it is said that an older gentleman, full of sorrow, discreetly confessed to one of the clergy that he had been one of the young men who had shot at the crew.  He then quietly slipped away from the service.
​
The pilot of the ill-fated flight, who had survived by being able to fly back to Britain, was still alive and well at the time.  However, he had not heard about the fate of his crewmen until he came across the story of the memorial.  He was so moved that he commissioned a local artist from where he lived in Wales to create a rocking horse - 'Hoffnung' (Hope) which he gave to the children of the German village’s Kindergarten.  The bond between the airmen’s families and the village community continued to flourish. In 2003, James's grandson was christened in Huchenfeld. In 2008 the pilot’s home village in Wales was twinned with the German village.  It was another moving act of forgiveness, proving that reconciliation and hope are possible, even in the face of such terrible events as those that happened to Jim.

Conclusion

​The events that took place in March of 1945 led to a harrowing and tragic end for a remarkable man who held a central part of the Henfield community in the early 20th century.  Nevertheless, forgiveness and hope did eventually prevail.  When you next visit Henfield Museum, have a look on the mural for the little boy on the bike and you will know his story.

Allison Dinnis, 2022
 
Many thanks to Adrian Vieler for sharing his research with me and to Alan Barwick of the Henfield Museum for bringing James Vinall’s story to my attention and helping me to find further information available at the museum. A version of this article was also simultaneously published in the November 2022 edition of BN5 Magazine.

Key Sources
 
- Peter Walker, ‘Hoffnung’ (Hope) - the rocking horse and the reconciliation between Llanbedr and Huchenfeld - the background story of friendship between former enemies', 214 (FMS) Squadron Association (2003)
- Oliver Clutton-Brock, 'Footprints on the Sands of Time', Grub Street Publishing (2003) 
- Trevor Grove, 'Murdered by the Mob', Daily Mail  (Saturday 21 December 2002)
- The Henfield Museum Collection.
​
For further information on James's story and that of the rest of his crew, see also the 214 Squadron Association website, searching the page for 'Vinall' or '​Flying Fortress Mark III HB779 BU-K' and the aircraft page on the Aircrew Remembered website.

John Cameron Andrieu Bingham Michael Morton, better known as J. B. Morton and, to his friends, as Johnny Morton, was born in Tooting, south London on 7th June 1893. He was an English humorous writer noted for authoring a column called "By the Way" under the pen name 'Beachcomber' in the Daily Express from 1924 to 1975.

His father, Edward Morton, began his career as a journalist in Paris and introduced his son to two of his greatest loves, France and wine. As an only child, at the age of eight, JB went to Park House prep school in Southborough, Tunbridge Wells and in 1907 to Harrow School, where he did not distinguish himself.
Failing to win a scholarship to Oxford he gained entrance to Worcester College, changing schools three times and leaving after one year. His first job was writing revue material in the Charing Cross Road for a minor publication and in 1914 enlisted in the University and Public Schools Battalion of the Royal Fusiliers, as a private, being sent to the trenches in 1915.

In 1916 the battalion was disbanded and JB who had fought at Cambrai and Vermelles was commissioned with the Suffolk Regiment, serving on the Somme, entering hospital in Etaples with shellshock. Pronounced unfit for active service, he spent the rest of the war in the Intelligence Service, branch M.I.(7B).
At the end of the war in 1918, he joined the staff of the Sunday Express, where he wrote mainly about country walks with a selection of jokes, poems and fairy tales. Three years later, he moved to the Daily Express as a feature reporter, taking over the ‘Beachcomber’ column from D.B. Wyndham-Lewis in 1924.
​
By 1922 he had joined the Catholic faith, becoming a friend of Hilaire Belloc and his son Peter, who were living in Shipley near West Grinstead. He bought a cottage in Rodmell near Lewes, whose best-known inhabitant was Virginia Wolff and nearby at Charleston, Firle, the Bloomsbury set. As a keen walker of the South Downs, he walked in several foreign countries including the Pyrenees, Italy, Poland, Ireland and Norway.

By 1926 he was sharing a room with Peter Belloc in Ebury Strett, London and on the 24th September 1927 married Mary Annunciata O’Leary. She was born on 15th March 1897 in Cappoquin, County Waterford and had qualified as a medical doctor.

​Little is recorded of their life at this time, possibly in London, until in 1939, they appear in the Register living at Potwell in Cagefoot Lane, Henfield. During this time, while still employed by the Daily Express, Morton published a number of books:

Acknowledgements
​
The information in this article has been taken from various sources including ‘Beachcomber, The Works of J.B Morton’ by Richard Ingrams. The photographs of John and Mary are taken from the Marjorie Baker Collection at Henfield Museum.

This tale begins with tumultuous days in early 19th century Brighton, but the Hall family played a notable role in Henfield's history for well over half a century. Working with and marrying into the Borrer family, Eardley Nicholas Hall took over Barrow Hill house after botanist William Borrer's death.
 
Eardley was born in 1803, and like his father, was a well-known banker and sometime wine merchant, working at the family bank of Hall, West & Borrer at 6 North Street, Brighton. Known by various partner dependent names, it was often simply known as the Brighton Union Bank. It was one of only two in Brighton to survive the 'Panic of 1825' stock market crash, to which Eardley would no doubt have lost sleep as a young banker.

This 19th century version of the South Sea Bubble of the previous century was in part caused by overly speculative Latin American investment. One particularly extreme example involved the almost unbelievable story of soldier, sometime colleague of Simon Bolivar - and fraudster of massive ambition - Gregor MacGregor, who embarked on multiple society publicity tours to encourage settlement and investment in the country of 'Poyais'. Which to the horror of the settlers arriving off the wild coast of South America, turned out to be entirely mythical (an extraordinary tale well worth a read into).

The crisis brought down sixty banks across the country and required the bank of England to be bailed out with gold from the Bank of France! By 1843 the Union Bank was the last one standing of seven that had opened in Brighton in the past half century and so became the primary bank of the town for the rest of the 19th century. It was eventually bought out in 1894 by what was to become Barclays. The old Lloyds branch in Henfield High Street, (formerly the Barclays site), was originally a branch of the Brighton Union Bank.

On 26th March 1892, the Brighton Herald published a complimentary account by stockbroker William Baines which well captures the spirit of this era, contrasting greatly perhaps with common ideas of bankers in the 21st century!

'The house next to the Duke of Devonshire’s was occupied by Mr Thomas West, the well-known banker of The Union Bank, North Street. The Union Bank at that time was an old-fashioned round fronted building with a flight of steps leading up to it. The proprietors were Messrs Hall, West and Borrer, and with their white-haired managing clerk, old Mr. Pocock, formed a quartet of the most genial looking old gentlemen that the eye could look upon. One and all of them had something lively to say to their customers. In their general style and deportment they used to put the writer in mind of the Brothers Cheeryble*.'

*Brothers Cheeryble, the kind-hearted employers of Nicholas Nickleby in Charles Dickens’s novel.'

Eardley married Henfield botanist William Borrer's daughter Annette (his second cousin) in 1835 and they lived at the Hall family mansion of Portslade Place - an imposing Georgian mansion with extensive grounds built in 1795. In 1836, he was involved at the genesis of the railways, being listed as a subscriber to the Bath and Weymouth Railway Company, having bought 40 shares with a value of £2000 (and 5 more in his role as a partner at the bank). This company was soon to be bought out by the Great Western railway which moved on under Brunel to complete the line we know today.

On William's death in 1862, Eardley purchased Barrow Hill from William's son Dawson - well known for his voyage to Lebanon and his return with Lebanon Cedar seeds planted at Henfield. They afterwards moved in and rented out Portslade Place, which survived until 1936, by then long out of place amongst the envelopment of the modern town. A few years after the Hall family had moved in, Barrow Hill gained its local 'Snake House' nomenclature when a house martin nest taken over by sparrows was knocked from the eaves to disgorge a feasting snake!