The ruined house shown in this photograph was in Grand Avenue, Lancing, Sussex and had been the home until a few days before being bombed, of my mother, Emily Lindfield, my brother Peter and myself. We were evacuated at the outbreak of war to my mother’s parents (the Braben’s) house as my father anticipated London being attacked by aerial bombing. He moved us back to London, all being quiet, the Blitz had not yet commenced. Continue reading
Back in June 1998 I moved to Northern Ireland with my wife and son to undertake a two-year posting. When we first told friends and family that we would be moving to Northern Ireland for two years, by far the most common response was ‘Why on earth do you want to go there?’ and ‘Who have you upset?’ For minds conditioned by media reports of the Troubles over the last thirty years, the concept of spending any time living in Northern Ireland was probably as appealing as trampolining in a neck harness. Continue reading
One of the questions often asked of family historians is whether their family has a coat of arms. Until recently, I had to say that we had found no evidence of any grant of arms to anyone bearing one of the name variants we are researching. Until that is, I had a surprise visit from Ernest William Lindfield of Shearwater, Tasmania, who was in England on holiday. Ernest left with me a photograph of the coat of arms, or more strictly, the Armorial Bearings, which had recently been granted to him in recognition of his public service.
Our printing process cannot really do justice to the colour photograph, but I have copied out the wording of the Warrant, which readers may find of interest. There are plenty of good books around on heraldry which will provide a translation of the rather arcane terminology!
ARMORIAL BEARINGS GRANTED TO ERNEST WILLIAM LINDFIELD
His Grace’s Warrant (Earl Marshal and Hereditary Marshal of England) and by virtue of the Letters Patent of My Office granted to Me by the Queen’s Most Excellent Majesty do by these Presents grant and assign unto the said ERNEST WILLIAM LINDFIELD the Arms following that is to say:- Quarterly Azure and Or in the first and fourth quarters a Martlet wings displayed and addorsed in the second and third a Mullet all counterchanged on a Pale Ermine a Caduceus Gold And for the Crest upon a Helm with a Wreath Argent Or and Azure A Tasmanian Tiger rampant holding in the sinister paw a pair of Scales Or and in the dexter a Cutlass proper Mantled Azure doubled Party Or and Argent And I further grant and assign the following Device or Badge that is to say: Upon a Aboriginal Spear and a Didgeridoo in saltire proper an Eagle displayed Or all within a wreath of Greater Bird of Paradise Tail Feathers proper as the same are in the margin hereof more plainly depicted to be borne and used forever hereafter by the said ERNEST WILLIAM LINDFIELD and by his descendants with their due and proper differences and according to the Laws of Arms.
Our congratulations to Ernest on achieving this honour, and on being, as far as we know, the first Lindfield to be entitled to a coat of arms.
The August 1996 journal of the Group contained an article under the heading Full Circle that mentioned the author’s father’s and uncle’s service in the Royal Navy.
Both served on minesweepers and would have been attached to the Royal Naval Patrol Service, a new division of the R.N. with their central depot in Lowestoft in a place calle dthe Sparrow’s Nest. This had the official title of HMS Europa andoperated from the beginning of the war until 1946 when it was closed down.
Lieutenant F R Linfield is named on the memorial at Lowestoft to commemorate sailors of the RNPS lost at sea.. This memorial which is 50 feet high, surmounted by a bronze galleon, rises from a 40 foot diameter base fitted with 17 bronze panels bearing the names of 2,385 sailors lost at sea.
My own service commenced in 1944 as a Royal Naval rating attached to Chatham depot, but within a month I was transferred to Lowestoft and became a Royal Naval Patrol Service sailor. My first draft in this division was to a small minesweeper out of Grimsby, deployed in keeping open charted shipping lanes in the North Sea. At the end of the war in Europe, I was posted abroad and served for two years in the Pacific and Indian fleets before being demobbed in 1947.
I joined the Royal Naval Patrol Service Association last year and have taken part in the last two annual parades, service and wreath laying at Lowestoft. The parade of about 1000 ex-RNPS personnel is through Lowestoft, terminating at the memorial for the service and then to the old parade ground for the final service – a very proud and moving occasion.
It was at the service that I noticed Lieut F R Linfield’s name, and the secretary of the association answered my enquiry with the following details:
LINFIELD, FREDERICK ROY, Lieut. R.N.R. Son of Frederick William and Mary. Husband of Alice Cameron Minter Linfield of Durban, Natal, South Africa. Lost on HMS Sotra, 29th January, 1942, aged 31. The Sotra was a whaler, 313 tons, built 1925, hired as a minesweeper in September 1939. It was sunk by a German submarine U431 off Bardia (Bariyah), North Africa.
In my four years service in the RN the only Lin(d)field I met was my cousin Jack Lindfield who served on the carrier Ark Royal and then on the Royal Fleet auxiliaries throughout the war after his pre-war training at King Alfred, Hove. It would be interesting to hear from any other Lin(d)fields who were associated with the Royal Navy.
Have you ever lain awake at night and, looking back over your life, wondered what it would have been like if just that little thing had not been allowed to have turned your feet into another course? Rather like a great express train is directed – just by flicking over a set of points which causes the great monster to go into a quite different direction. So it has been with our lives, little trifles so very small – hardly noticeable – have been used in God Almighty’s hand to direct our steps into quite a different path than we expected or that might have been. I believe in God, and believe that He had an over ruling hand in what happened in my life.
It so happens that in my family I can look back over 220 years and yet only then come to the birth of my great grandparents! My father was 49 when I was born, that was 80 years ago. My grandfather was 49 when my father was born. Then, strange to say, my great grandparents were both 44 when my grandfather was born, which brings it back to 1777 covering only 4 generations!
In another article I have told you how I listened to bits of conversation as I sat on the claw of the table under the chenille tablecloth. There i got the impression that my great grandmother Sarah had been a woman of some character. She was the daughter of a certain JOHN BURTON 1747-1835. John had come from a well connected family who had lived in Rottingdean for some 200 years. He had married a young lady in Newtimber, but sadly she had died only 6 months later. Then he met another lady who had just become a widow – ANN HYDER, and who had been left with 2 children and a large market garden. No doubt a mutual sympathy and an ability to help her brought them together. They married and had two daughters, one of whom was my great grandmother Sarah.
I get the impression that when Sarah met my great grandfather Allen who was the son of a very small farmer in Chailey, that it was felt that she had married beneath her! When later, John Burton made his will, he completely bypassed his son-in-law and made his grandson his heir. He made the necessary provision for his daughter Sarah during her lifetime. John owned the farm on which they were living and the adjoining farm on which he himself was then living, besides property in Brighton and the market garden and land in Hurstpierpoint, which had been his wife’s. This latter property he gave to his second daughter Barbara before his actual death. That Sarah was his favourite daughter was pretty obvious, as each of her children received a portion in his will. Her sister is stated in a codicil as having had her portion during his lifetime, and her children are not mentioned.
Sarah and Allen had 9 children. Ann, the eldest, married at the age of 20, a certain CHARLES TULLEY, and went to live at the mill farm at Scotches Farm at New Close, about two and a half miles from Fowls Farm, her old home. Here, on 23rd of March 1821, she gave birth to her little son Charles. After his birth she suffered much from postnatal depression. This caused her husband much anxiety, and one day while at work in the fields, Charles had such an impression that all was not well. At first he ignored it but it became so insistent that he dropped his tools and hurried home – only to find his fears well grounded – Ann was floating in the mill pond – dead!
Now, what to do with baby Charles? He was rushed up to Fowls Farm to grandma Sarah. She herself had been delivered of her youngest son John William on February 23rd. So, baby Charles was to be suckled by his grand mother. In after years John William would tell the story of this and laughingly say “ Yes, Charles had all the cream while I had only the skim milk!” It so happened that Charles was a tall finely built man while John William was short.
So, Charles and John William grew up together like twins, – uncle and nephew, – while Sarah ruled. So much so that when the boys became 13 they felt that enough was enough and they ran away! Charles went to Brighton and became a butcher’s boy. Speaking of this time he used to tell us of how, tired and footsore, he would have to walk through the streets carrying a wooden tray of meat on his shoulder. One day in particular he would recall how he sat down on a certain door step and burst into tears. But many years later he was able to buy the very house where he had sat!
He learned the trade of butchery and opened eventually his own shop and slaughter house. This was at St John’s Common, which at that time was fast becoming an important residential area owing to the nearby Pottery and Brick Works. After this he had his own farm at Pangdean and became a very noted breeder of Southdown sheep. So wealthy did he become that as his family married, he gave each a house, and built himself a house at Hassocks to which he and his wife and his one unmarried daughter retired. He lived to the ripe old age of 103 years and 11 months.
In his book, A Sussex Farmer, Mr William Wood writes: “At one of those fairs at Lindfield, a very dry year, .. ewes and lambs were in very poor condition and I came across a very large consignment.. . quite up to the standard of other seasons. The owner, Mr Charles Tulley of Pangdean Farm, sat on the wattles, and I congratulated him upon the fact that his sheep were as good as they always had been in spite of the drought. “Yes” he said, “nine years out of ten my flock keeps me, and when we get a year like this – I keep my flock.”
My grand father, John William ran in a different direction. He went to Chailey to his Uncle CHARLES AVERY of Longridge Farm, and became his carter boy. He was allowed to sleep in the attic, and he worked hard, one of his tasks being to take cattle to the market. He very soon became a very good judge of what was good or bad in cattle. This gift became very noticeable to other farmers. It got to the stage where they found it worth their while to get him to buy for them. In this way John began to get substantial tips and to store them away in his little room under the eaves.
Now on the opposite side of the road from Longridge is another farm originally known as “Huggetts”. But later it is known as “New House Farm”. A long row of Poplar trees had been planted along the road hedge at one time and while they were there the house was frequently known as the Poplars. About 1815 this farm was let to a WILLIAM LINDFIELD (Ref:#108 in database). He had been born at Keymer in 1788 as the son of Thomas and Sarah (n� Scrase). He had married first LYDIA STUBBS, but after the birth of their only child Frances, Lydia had died and William had married ELIZABETH WALKER in 1816. To her there were born 8 children and the lovely old house became a happy home to these youngsters. The great old farm house on the south side of the road had not been so blessed. Charles Avery was not married until much later in life. He did eventually marry the lady who had been his housekeeper so faithfully for so long. You can imagine my grandfather as a lad felt lonely at times, for “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” the saying goes! One little dark haired girl especially became a favourite with John William. He was five years older than she. It was not long before thoughts of the future began to form in his mind and being of necessity practical minded boy, he says “ I used to sit in my little attic window and look across to New House, count up my savings and try to work out how long it would be before I could marry Martha” (Ref: #224 in database).
Perhaps this was a good incentive to perseverance for we find that on March 26th 1841 at Chailey Parish Church John William married his heart’s desire- little Martha Lindfield though she was only 15! Yes, only just! After the service was over the Clergyman who married them said “If I had known you were so young I would not have done it! The marriage was witnessed by her father and mother so they must have had some confidence in him. For the first few months they lived at home with her parents but when their first child was born they are living at Ditchling. So I guess with intention to better himself John William is with Martha’s relatives at Ditchling learning how to be a butcher? Before the next child arrived they are settled at Stream Cottage, Wivelsfield Green, where they have a part of the house turned into a butcher’s shop with a small slaughter house at the rear. Here at Stream cottage were born nine children. By this time John their eldest son intends to get married so – again John William stops to think.
Martha Lindfield 1826-1874
Martha’s parents have died and the eldest son has decided to vacate New House. What could be better than for John William and Martha and their nine children to move back to New House and leave son John and his new wife in Stream Cottage. So, in 1864 they moved back to Martha’s old home and here was born the last of their 14 children, my own father being the 13th.
But sadly, in 1874 Martha died, not in childbirth but with appendicitis for which in those days there was no known cure. She was only 48 and my father lost a loving mother when he was only 6. But Grandfather was not to be daunted. The following year he married again and they had 3 more children, but my father said how kind his stepmother was to him.
But to return to great grandmother Sarah. During her life time the preaching of that great Evangelist George Whitfield and his great confederates had changed the lives of many families throughout England. At Great Ote hall in Wivelsfield, Salina Countess of Huntingdon had opened her house for preaching. The great William Romaine and others were guest speakers at her home. At last she built for the people of Wivelsfield a chapel now known as Ote Hall Chapel. The Burton Family were staunch Church of England attendants but somewhere along the line great grandmother Sarah and her family became Chapel attendants. The story went that Sarah who had been a keen card player, saw them image of Satan on the back of her cards and she put them down never to play again. Members of her family became much attached to Ote Hall Chapel and then there was a breakaway there, and Bethel Chapel was built. Children were often taken to chapels miles away to be named instead of being christened and because of the distance they were done in batches! In the case of William Lindfield’s family I eventually found them at Jireh Chapel Lewes where 4 of them were named in May I824. after Bethel Chapel opened batches of children were named there. When researching one needs to know a little about their lives and the signs of the times.
I wonder what future generations will remember about us.
How shall I write of Sussex, who have known
No other home? Who grew to love her sandy shores
Pebble-guarded, and rock-pool studded – where the turned rock
Yielded the slippery elver – sliding through hands, knees, feet,
Eluding capture – yet thrilling still.
Who climbed upon the rolling bare-backed Downs
Sheep-grazed, and so flower-studded; Tiny orchids,
The Sussex rampion, harebells, scabious, and the fragrant thyme.
The wooded Weald to the north, and south the moving sea, misty or sparkling,
Blending salt air and downland breeze.
The hayfields, full of flowers, were served by men;
And massive, patient horses, swishing their tails against the flies.
There were wet places still, where one caught newts
With tiny human hands; tadpoles and minute toads;
Where moorhens clucked and circled like clockwork toys.
There were kingcups then, hugely golden; iris and water-lilies,
Tall rushes at the edge of the deeper pool, where cattle drank.
We’d drive out to the woods, parking the car and picnicking
To hear the nightingales singing their hearts out
In the growing dusk, oblivious of their human audience.
How little now remains of all this largesse –
Only what can be caught in memory’s net –
To be passed on to those who come after
Who doubtless feel
Their elders probably exaggerate the joys of their lost youth.
It’s true that as the century draws near its end
Those who remember its early years can see
Each generation has less treasures left to hoard –
Unless, maybe, as this old century dies, the trend
Can be reversed, and the next return some of the riches
That have gone – a rebirth of the treasures of the past
Valued, at last, by a new century.
At our recent A.G.M. our President was trying to encourage us to write more for “Longshot” and he suggested we might write what he called a “living obituary”. I have to go back a very long way as I have been interested in my family history for about 70 years.
As a very little girl first staring school, I was soon to find that other children and their home lives were very different from me and mine. What this difference was seemed something of a mystery to me and I began to notice things. Young children and especially girls, can be very unkind and I resented it when one catty little girl sneered “Your father is old enough to be your grandfather!” – I adored my father and to have him slighted put my back up. Continue reading
When I was a boy, my father showed me an old letter to my great grandfather, Frederick Caesar Linfield. I was intrigued as the envelope was addressed to Hon. F C Linfield. My father explained that his grandfather had been a Member of Parliament and presumably the writer of the letter thought that was how he should be addressed. Continue reading