Forts And Foreshores: The Confluence

Van Soest, Attack On The River Medway

Much time and effort have I expended recently, exploring the triangle of Forts, the 'Palmerston Follies', that protect the kink in the Thames at Coalhouse Point. I have been buffeted by gusts at the lonely outpost of Cliffe, clambered over shattered stonework at Shornemead, and watched owls sweep across mudflats at Coalhouse. And yet, despite the time and effort that went into the construction of these Victorian military relics, none of them got to serve the purposes for which they were built. The French never sailed up the Thames, never attacked London, never exchanged fire with Palmerston's casemented guardians.

And yet, only a few miles along the shore, lies the confluence of the River Thames with Kent's mighty Medway... and here, two hundred years before the Palmerston Forts sought to ease our fears about Johnny Frenchie, took place the greatest humiliation in English naval history. However, it was not the French who were behind the 1667 raid on the Medway.

It was the Dutch.

The Medway Estuary

The raid took place in the context of the Second Anglo-Dutch War, one of four conflicts regarding mastery of the seas. A conference at Breda commenced in March 1667 but Charles II hesitated to sign a peace treaty, hoping for support from Louis XIV of France. However, the Dutch wearied of his prevarications and decided, in modern parlance, to light a fire under his backside.

On 6 June, a fog bank lifted in the Thames Estuary and revealed the approach of the Dutch fleet. They chased a fleet of merchantmen as far as Gravesend before turning their attention to the mouth of the Medway, for - only a couple of miles along the river at Chatham - the cream of the English Navy was lying up in a state of dormancy...

Slough Fort can be found at Allhallows-On-Sea...

...not at Slough, which is in Berkshire.

On the day I decided to follow the course of the Dutch Navy, I first visited the resort village of Allhallows-On-Sea, a short distance west of the confluence... my motive being that Allhallows has a small but tactically important Palmerston Fort, currently - and amusingly - being used as stables for an equestrian concern.

The small, D-shaped Slough Fort was constructed in 1867 and was designed to protect the only viable landing-place for an invasion fleet between the Coalhouse fortifications and the defensive structues at the Thames/Medway confluence. It was named after a neighbouring farmstead which has since disappeared.

Slough Fort

To reach the Fort, one has to stroll into Allhallows' unmissable caravan resort and swing a left at the site supermarket, passing under a rather obvious gateway. Stables have been built in the structure's forecourt, and most are occupied by horses and ponies, along with helpful signage pointing out which ones bite. The interior of the Fort is not open to the public, and many of its rooms are used as storage for riding equipment.

Forecourt at Slough, stable block on the right

A series of gun emplacements stretch out on both sides of the main building, large enough to house the type of artillery you might expect to find at, say, Navarone.

Emplacement at Slough for a very big gun. Above, a holidaymaker enjoys a barbecue.

The wing batteries were added to the Fort around 1890 and could accomodate two 9.2-inch and two 6-inch breech loaders, weapons capable of taking on a battleship at considerable distances. Sadly, none of these colossal weapons remain at the site today.

Slough Fort in 1870, before the wing batteries were added

The guns were never fired in anger. The Fort was used as a Battery Command Post during the First World War, monitoring shipping in the Thames. It was decommisioned in 1920 and sold off nine years later, although brought back into use for anti-aircraft purposes during the Second World War. Eventually, the local council acquired the site and the riding stables appeared during the '60's.

Layout of Slough

Slough Fort was listed as a Grade II* Scheduled Monument in 2009, and Bourne Leisure (owners of the adjacent caravan park) have funded a partial restoration, clearing tons of debris from the wing batteries and laying out a trail with information boards.

Eastern wing battery shows signs of recent clearance

Following this productive visit to a holiday resort, I head east to the village of Grain, which stands right on the confluence of the two mighty rivers. The approach to this village is via the long and winding A288 and it passes through an industrial landscape that would look at home in a Blade Runner movie.

The Forts of the Confluence, in spatial relationship to each other

The road ends at a free car park, and from there it is but a short, brisk stroll to the sea wall, where you can stand at the junction of the two estuaries and make two immediate observations, i.e. it is extremely windy here, and there are fortifications as far as the eye can see. Out in the distant mouth of the Thames can be spotted a series of Maunsell Forts, named after their designer and erected during WW2. They form two groups, the Redsands and the Shivering Sands.

Maunsell Forts in the Thames Estuary

In the mouth of the Medway stands the Grain Sea Fort, built in 1855 (thus predating Palmerston's efforts) to protect local dockyards. It was added to during the Second World War, and holds the amusing address of 'No.1, Thames'. It recently came up for sale at £500, 000, although it requires a million's worth of renovations and can only be accesses by boat or a low-tide causeway. One can only imagine what kind of nut would want to live there. A rich nut, presumably.

Grain Sea Fort

Beyond the Sea Fort, on the corner of the Isle of Sheppey, can be spotted the Sheerness Docks and, in the midst of all that modern maritime bustle, another military relic from the days of Palmerston: the Garrison Point Fort, currently inaccessible to Joe Public and being used as a radar tower.

Garrison Point Fort

Behind you at this point is a raised area of long grass and scrubland, and this is the site of the demolished Grain Fort, twin to Garrison Point, razed following its 1956 decommissioning. Its colossal defensive ditch is mostly overgrown, its worn gun emplacements now picnic spots. Plenty survives below ground, but is only accessible through a small hole located in a cleared area of the ditch. Lacking a torch and the inclination to squeeze into a subterranean gap barely larger than the entrance to a badger sett, I decided to leave it to proper Urban Explorers.

The site of Grain Fort...

...and its few upstanding remains.

A little to the south stands the Grain Dummy Battery, built in 1865 to supplement the Fort. It was decommissioned at the same time, but its remains are still impressive.

Grain Dummy Battery from the front, chimney of Grain Power Station on left

Grain Dummy Battery from the rear

It is easy to imagine, at this windswept spot, the might of the Dutch Navy bearing down from the Thames back in June 1667. The first defensive obstacle they encountered was an earlier, incomplete fort at Sheerness, the precursor to Garrison Point. Its heavily outnumbered garrison fled, and the guns of the Dutch ships hammered the fort into rubble. The raiders now moved into the Medway, navigating the bends and turns toward Gillingham Reach and, beyond, the unprepared English fleet laid up at Chatham.

The Battle Of Chatham, Willem Van Der Stoop

I do not have to navigate the meanderings of the Medway, as I have a car and can follow the river's southerly course from the A288. At a point just below the disused Kingsnorth Power Station, it is possible to gaze out over the river and notice two more Palmerston Follies, Fort Hoo and Fort Darnet, strandedon islets and acessible only by water craft.

Fort Darnet ©David Anstiss

Fort Hoo

I park by the Marina at Hoo St Werburgh. From here, at low tide, it is possible to walk along the foreshore to the next site on my list. However, as Blondie might have observed, the tide is high. And I have little intention of swimming, so my only option is to struggle through the rather dense Cookham Wood, which hugs the banks of the river between here and Upnor. Plentiful signage tells me that the woods are privately owned, which is another way of telling me to be discreet.

Struggling through the bramble and ivy of the unwelcoming undergrowth, I notice the evidence of past human activity: bumps, hollows, drainage culverts. I have come to find the scanty remains of a brick fort that long predates the Palmerston Follies, a fort built in 1669 in the wake of the Dutch attack. Its twin, Gillingham Fort, stood on the other side of the river, but nothing remains of it. I find myself sliding into a hollow and finding the remnants of a small brick building, the first sign that I have located the Cookham Wood Fort.

Landward remnants of Cookham Wood Fort

I struggle gamely through to the wooded waterfront but, alas, that tide is not going to let me get close without risking an unwelcome dip in the Medway, so for today I have to satisfy myself with a partial view.

Remnant of Cookham Wood Fort at high tide

Cookham Wood at low tide ©beno.org

The river at this point is meandering south from the stretch known as Gillingham Reach. Here, the English had set up a 'boom', a long and thick chain set across the Medway to forestall just such a raid. It failed miserably. The Dutch crashed through the boom and fell upon two ships they found in the Reach, capturing both and taking them as spoils of war. One was the HMS Unity. The other, to the everlasting humiliation of the English Navy, was their flagship, the Royal Charles.

I retrace my steps to the Marina and recover the car. Only one more site to visit for the day, and its the only one owned by English Heritage of which, happily, I am a member.

Upnor, a beautiful cobblestoned maritime village

I park outside Upnor village, a place I have visited many times, and stroll down the quaint, historic village street toward the Medway waterfront. There, I find familiarity in a site of which I am very fond: Upnor Castle.

Approaching Upnor Castle

It was constructed during the reign of the first Elizabeth, between 1559 and 1667, to a design by Sir Richard Lee. The only action it saw came in June 1667, when the raid on the Medway culminated with a thunderous confrontation on the river right below the castle walls.

Upnor Castle from the Medway © Loco Steve

The Dutch fleet swept into Upnor Reach and finally met stiff resistance. The great guns of the castle roared out, batteries from the Chatham shore kept up constant artillery fire, but despite heavy human losses, the Dutch managed to attack and destroy three of the most majestic ships in the English Navy: Loyal London, Royal James and Royal Oak, burned by fireships here in the river at Upnor.

The gatehouse at Upnor Castle

The formidable General Monck, Duke of Albemarle and veteran of the Civil War, arrived to take charge, and ordered  a line of ships to be deliberately sunk across the Reach. This had the effect of blocking further passage along the river. Chatham was saved and, still under heavy fire, the Dutch warships swung around and headed back the way they had come, a feat of seamanship that even the English admired. They took with them their captured prizes, the Unity and the flagship Royal Charles. She was auctioned for scrap in 1673, but her sternpiece survives in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam.

Sternpiece of the HMS Royal Charles

The Dutch had finally been repelled, but the raid could not be portrayed as anything but a disaster for the English. Samuel Pepys, Secretary of the Navy, wrote: "All our hearts now do ake; for the newes is true, that the Dutch have broke the chaine and burned our ships, and particularly The Royal Charles, other particulars I know not, but most sad to be sure. And, the truth is, I do fear so much that the whole kingdom is undone..."

Upnor Castle, overlooking the Medway

The kingdom survived. The Royal Oak, Royal James and Loyal London were refloated and salvaged. Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon and Lord Chancellor, was made the scapegoat and exiled from Court. In 1670, a ship rebuilding programme saw the Navy being restored to its former strength.

Upnor Castle continued in service, being used to store ordnance after its defensive role was rendered obsolete by the new fortifications built around the estuaries in the wake of the Dutch raid. It was decommissioned at the end of the Second World War and opened as a museum. Today, although still owned by the Crown, it is run by English Heritage.

I leave the Castle and stroll down to the foreshore. The tide is at last at an ebb, and I gaze at the emerging mudflats and remember an earlier occasion, years ago, when my children and I prowled along those same mudflats, picking fresh samphire. My exploration of the Forts and Foreshores is at an end. Doubtless, I will return to some of them in the future (perhaps Cookham Wood when the tide is out), but those initial journeys of discovery have been completed.

I turn, mount a flight of steps back to Upnor and stroll up its cobbled street. The village has two pubs, the Tudor Rose and the King's Arms, and the scents of Sunday dinner waft through the cool Spring air. Behind, the river rolls on, winding its sinuous way to the confluence, passing centuries of defence works, cutting Kent in two as it has always done.

I walk, up the cobbled gradient, away from the Medway, towards new quests...

Kindled At The Muse's Flame

Stoke Poges

'The curfew tolls the knell of passing day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.'

Another day, another odyssey.

To be fair, I don't usually need much of an excuse to go on a trip - just recently I visited the South Downs in order to gain a specific view of the Seven Sisters, simply because I was familiar with that view from postcards, a screensaver and the film Atonement.

The Seven Sisters from Cuckmere Haven

This particular trip, however, feels more personal, as it combines my love of travel and exploration with my more scholarly pursuits of history and literature. My favourite poet is G K Chesterton, my favourite poem Thomas Gray's Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard, and as luck would have it, both can be found in a small corner of Buckinghamshire.

This is not a shire with which I am overly familiar, although its neighbours are old friends. Most of my visits to Bucks have involved West Wycombe, and the stomping ground of the Hellfire Club. No journeys into Georgian depravity await me this time, unfortunately, as my destination is a village north of Slough, a village that goes by the name of Stoke Poges.

'Stoke' means a stockade, and in the thirteenth century the heiress of the Manor, Amicia of Stoke, married a knight called Sir Robert Pogeys, whose name completed the title of the village we know today. The area is best known today for Stoke Park, a highly-rated Country Club and Golf Course based around a mansion designed in 1788 by the architect James Wyatt.

Stoke Park, from the rear of the Churchyard

Stoke Park has a special place in the hearts of 007 fans, as scenes from Goldfinger and Tomorrow Never Dies were filmed here. It also played an important part in the film Layer Cake, being the site of the final altercation between Daniel Craig (the future Bond) and Ben Whishaw (the future Q).

Across a lake from the Mansion stands the original Manor House, across the centuries home to such illustrious families as the Hattons, the Earls of Huntingdon and the Penns. The poet Thomas Gray, a resident of Cambridge, started spending time in the village during the 1740's when his widowed mother moved to Stoke Court, then known as West End House, from the family's previous domicile in London (today, a blue plaque marks the spot of the poet's birth in Cornhill). Here he wrote his Ode On Spring and On A Distant Prospect Of Eton College (of which he was a former pupil). The Manor House itself, he immortalised in The Long Story:

'In Britain's isle, no matter where,
An ancient pile of building stands:
The Huntingdons and Hattons there,
Employ'd the pow'r of fairy hands.

To raise the ceiling's fretted height,
Each panel in achievement's clothing
Rich windows that exclude the light,
And passage, that lead to nothing.

The Manor House

Directly adjacent to the grounds of the Manor House stands St Giles', the parish church of Stoke Poges, and the Lords Of The Manor had their own ornate entrance:

Manor House Entrance to the church

My own entrance was somewhat less grand, although no less evocative. St Giles' is first approached through a gate to the churchyard extension.

The outer entrance to St Giles' Churchyard

A walk along the path takes the visitor to the entrance to the original Country Churchyard made famous by Gray's Elegy:

The rntrance to Gray's Country Churchyard

As I approach the building, I spot a mouse diving between gravestones, a sight which simply adds to the rustic feel of this spot. The most striking feature of the building itself is the large brick-built chapel occupying its south-eastern corner, a chapel constructed in 1588 by the Huntingdons for the repose of their bodies and souls. The second eye-catcher is the table tomb that stands below it.

The tomb of Thomas Gray

'The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike th' inevitable hour,
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.'

Gray buried his aunt and his mother here, in 1749 and 1753 respectively, and wrote the epitaph that still adorns it:

In the Vault below are deposited, in hope of joyful Resurrection, the remains of MARY ANTROBUS She died unmarried, November 5, 1749 Aged 66. In the same pious confidence, beside her friend and sister, here sleep the remains of DOROTHY GRAY Widow, the careful, tender Mother of many children, one of whom alone had the misfortune to survive her. She died March 11, 1753. Aged 67.

Visitors have left their own marks

Gray died on July 30th 1771, and in accordance with his wishes was brought from Cambridge and buried in the tomb. Unfortunately, his literary effusions had left no room for his own epitaph, so a tablet affixed to the nearby wall of the Hastings Chapel records his burial. Directly outside the church's porch is a yew bower under which, according to tradition, the Elegy was written. In the churchyard hereabouts can be found local gentry, servants from the Manor House, and four local schoolboys who were swept into the sea by a freak wave at Land's End in 1985   a tragedy I can personally recall from the news media at the time.

The yew bower

'Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid

Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;

Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed,

Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre:

Some village-Hampden, that, with dauntless breast

The little tyrant of his fields withstood,

Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,

Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.'

The victims of the 1985 tragedy at Land's End

'Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,

Their sober wishes never learned to stray;

Along the cool sequester'd vale of life

They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.'

The interior of the church is dark in the nave, brighter in the chancel. Mural monuments abound, including examples by the renowned sculptors Chantrey and Flaxman. A monument records members of the Penn family in a vault near the font, and a tomb in the chancel, in the style of an Easter Sepulchre, marks the resting place of Sir John de Molyns, Marshal of the King's Falcons, and Supervisor of the King's Castles. The oldest monument, a tombstone now in the Hastings Chapel, was originally in the graveyard and its twelfth/thirteenth century Norman French inscription translates as: 

All those who pass by here

Pray for the soul of this one;

William of Wytermerse he had for name;

God to him grant true pardon.

So be it.

The Gray Monument

Adjoining the churchyard is 'Gray's Field', now owned by the National Trust, and in it stands a large and sturdy Monument to the poet, designed by the Stoke Park architect Wyatt and erected in 1799. In the form of a stone sarcophagus surmounying a large pedestal, it is surrounded by a ha-ha to deter cattle and its four faces display lines from the Elegy. Its size certainly makes up for the lack of an epitaph on the nearby tomb of the poet himself!

Beaconsfield

My next stop, only a few miles away, is the small and charming town of Beaconsfield, an attractive collection of timbered and Georgian architecture. I have stopped here briefly in the past during a journey to Wales, and am familiar with the Motorway Services of the same name on the M40. I was struck, on my previous visit, on how the town maintains an air of gentility despite some often busy traffic. Its church, a large, flint-faced edifice, contains a gilded Bishop's Chair apparently donated by Benjamin Disraeli when he became Earl Beaconsfield, and a mural monument to the great eighteenth-century statesman, orator and writer Edmund Burke ('Those who don't know history are destined to repeat it'  'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for god men to do nothing'). He rests in a family vault below a pew.

Beaconsfield Church

In the churchyard is a striking monument, a tapering obelisk that marks the tomb of the seventeenth-century poet and politician Edmund Waller, whose kinship with various Parliamentarians and Regicides saw him getting into hot water more than once in his life. Waller, however, is not the poet I have come here to find (mainly because I found him on that previous visit!).

Waller Monument

A few minutes' stroll from the church, along a narrow roadway called Shepherd's Lane, can be found a small and beautifully maintained Roman Catholic cemetery... and here I finally locate my favourite poet, G K Chesterton, whose works gave me the titles of two of my previous blog posts, And The White Horse Looked On and  Fine Things To Be Seen.

Gilbert Keith Chesterton

A small bunch of flowers on the grave has toppled, and I carefully stand it upright before moving away with a silent thanks. My odyssey for the day is over, save a brief, curiosity-satisfying stop at a historic Quaker House in the nearby village of Jordans, to see the humble resting place of William Penn, the most illustrious of that historic family, who founded and named the State of Pennsylvania.

With charateristic Quaker understatement, the founder of Pennsylvania rests humbly in the Buckinghamshire countryside. Grave on the left.

Away now, away from Bucks, heading through Herts on my way back to Essex. I leave the three poets behind, silent in their repose, adorning the county with their dust. Silent they may have fallen, but their words burn on, and works like Chesterton's Rolling English Road and Gray's Elegy continue to epitomise the evocative sense of an Old England that has yet to entirely disappear...

They burn on, with 'incense kindled at the Muse's flame'.
(Thomas Gray, Elegy)

Cantiaci Hillfigures

Hillfigures, a mostly English phenomenon, are indelibly associated with Wessex, thanks to the plethora of White Horses that gallop their way across the hills of Wiltshire. However, the counties of the South-East have their fair share of these historic landmarks, mostly scattered across the chalky swathes of the North and South Downs.

indeed, Kent can proudly display the youngest addition to the list with the construction of a millennial horse at Folkestone. The area cannot boast of anything as old and mysterious as the Uffington Horse, but it can be proud of its Long Man, its hillfigure war memorials and its unique Wye Crown. there are also 'lost' figures, which will receive an honourable mention.

As well as historic journeys, visits to what I term the 'Cantiaci Hillfigures' are visits to some of the loveliest areas of SE England. For the adventurous, I have included directions...

Folkestone Horse

en.m.wikipedia.org

To start with the youngest. Kent, despite having an ivory horse as its county symbol, never had its own equine hillfigure until recently. This strange omission has now been rectified, thanks to an idea first mooted in 1998 as a Millennium project. Designed by the artist Charles Newington, the Horse galloped into trouble from the start.

The hillside upon which it stands is a Site of Special Scientific Interest, so English Nature immediately objected to the idea. Even the EU vetoed its construction. However, the Government firmly stated that no laws were being broken and so, after a few years of legal wrangling, construction finally began in 2003.

The Horse was built by Ghurkas stationed in the area. Trenches were dug, and slabs of chalk and limestone pinned into the trenches to create a durable outline. Building work took about two weeks. The figure is a hundred yards long, and can best be seen from the Tesco car park off the M20 Junction 12.

Lenham Cross

geograph.co.uk

The Cross can be seen from the A20, about nine miles ENE of Maidstone. It was designed as a memorial to forty-two men of Lenham who died during the Great War, and was proposed by Mr C Groom, headmaster of the village school. Completed in 1922, it stands one hundred and eighty-nine feet tall.

The memorial stone placed near the Cross was used for Remembrance Day services until 1960, when several incidents of inclement weather forced the parish to move the stone - and the services - to the comfort of the local church.

Wye Crown

Wyeweb.org

Best seen from the country road heading east from the village of Wye, or - farther back - from the Ashford to Canterbury road. The figure is unique, for there exist no other chalky Crowns in the country. Associated with, and maintained by, the students of Wye College, it was created in 1902 to commemorate the coronation of Edward VII.

Its design was ingeniously simple. The outline of an 1887 florin was traced onto a piece of paper, which was then attached to the lens of a theodolite. The theodolite was aimed at the hill, and workers with flags marked the outline as seen through the lens.

On the night of August 9th 1902, the day of Edward's coronation, the Crown was illuminated by fifteen hundred fairy lights. This has become a tradition, repeated at every subsequent coronation.

Shoreham Cross

bbc.co.uk

'When I went down to Shoreham
some time another year,
I found a cross for sorrow
and pain for men to bear,
for lads I knew aforetime
were sleeping otherwhere.'
- A Kentish Lad, George A Vallins

Like its companion at Lenham, the Shoreham Cross was erected as a war memorial. The land upon which it stands, towering over the village, was donated to the parish on a 999-year lease by the Right Honourable FB Mildmay MP in 1920. It was created by volunteers during the same year, and unveiled on Empire Day. The Cross stands a hundred feet high and overlooks an attractive stretch of the Darent Valley, only a few miles from the historically-important villages of Eynsford and Lullingstone.

Long Man Of Wilmington

sussexpast.co.uk

Other chalky figures exist in Kent, although the status of 'hillfigure' is dubious where they are concerned. A large white propellor decorates a field to commemorate the Battle of Britain,and the outline of a small aeroplane in the woods behind Dover Castle marks the first cross-Channel flight. However, these are set on flat ground rather than slopes and, while visible from the air, do not make very good landmarks for those on terra firma. A lost figure, the Buffs Badge at Canterbury, was carved into the bullet bank at the end of a firing range in 1922. A fifty-five feet high dragon, it was unfortunately allowed to grass over when the Regiment merged with another in 1958.

So we follow the broad, verdant sweep of the South Downs into Sussex, where we find a hillfigure that is not only the undisputed lord of all the Cantiaci figures, but is also one of the most celebrated in England.

The Long Man can best be viewed from the Priory car park at Wilmington. It stands on the north face of Windover Hill, and is surrounded by remnants of the past: a quarry, directly to its right; ancient flint mines pocking the crest above; prehistoric barrows, crowning the peak of the Hill. He stands seventy metres high and his staves are slightly taller.

His age and origins are a mystery, which has doubtless added to his popularity. The first documented mention is in a manuscript of 1779 which shows him with facial features, and carrying farming implements. Various theories have been put forward regarding who he represents, some of them bizarre. They include King Harold, Mercury, Baldur, Thor, Wotan, Beowulf, the Hindu god Varuna (this suggestion came, surprisingly, from the famous archaeologist Flinders Petrie ), Mohammed, St Paul, and Apollo. One particularly attractive theory has him carved by the monks of Wilmington Priory, a chalk pilgrim advertising room and board for the night to weary travellers on the Pilgrims' Way across the South Downs.

No less a respected archaeologist than Barry Cunliffe inspected examples taken from the Man and suggested that Roman materials had been used in his construction. Resistivity tests have proved that, at various points in his history, he did indeed carry rakes, scythes, and even a plumed cap. A figure much resembling him was found on a Saxon coin discovered elsewhere in the Weald.

A legend of warring giants has sprung from his position on the Hill. Apparently, two giants once lived in the area - one on Windover Hill, the other at Firle Beacon. They had a set-to and started throwing rocks at each other. The Windover Giant was struck and now lies on the side of the Hill where he fell...

From the breezy peak of this aptly-named Windover Hill, it is possible - on a clear day - to look south and discern a pale smudge on the Downs a few miles away...

Litlington Horse

geograph.co.uk

A relatively small addition to the canon of equine hillfigures, the Horse is slightly less than twenty-five metres long. He can be viewed from several points along the road heading south from Wilmington, although the best views are available on foot from the South Downs Way.

It is the second Horse on the site. The first stood slightly NW of the present figure. Cut in 1838 to commemorate Victoria's coronation (local legend claiming that it was constructed in a single day), it had overgrown and vanished completely by 1920.

Another legend claims that the figure is a memorial to a girl killed when the horse she was riding threw her after bolting down the hill. The present Horse was cut in 1024 by a Mr John Ade, whose grandfather had helped with the cutting of the original Horse. He was assisted by two friends and, for obscure reasons, cut it by moonlight.

West Clandon Dragon

strangedays.doomby.com

The Dragon, visible from the A246 east of Guildford, was created in 1977 to celebrate the Silver Jubilee of Elizabeth II.  Although it grassed over by 1990, it was recently restored. It is the only hillfigure in Surrey, the county better known for stockbroker belts and theme parks. A White Horse once existed in Surrey, at Hindhead, but it disappeared early in the 20th century.

The Dragon reflects a local legend, recorded as early as 1776. The village of West Clandon was terrorised by a dragon, and the villagers told a passing army deserter that, if he disposed of the beast, they would grant him a pardon. The dragon was subsequently attacked by the soldier's dog, who wore it down so that the triumphant soldier could strike a fatal blow.

Whitehawk Hawk

google.co.uk/maps

And finally...

Located in the Sheepcote Valley on the eastern fringes of Brighton, the Hawk was created in the Summer of 2001 by a group of local artists called SameSky. Its inauguration ceremony saw it lit up like a beacon. Plans to hold annual festivities on the Hawk on the anniversary of its creation include maintenance work to prevent its weathering.

Jack In The Night

His shimmering tendrils creep across the dawn-drenched field,
Ivory fingers probing at the stiffening clay.
He smears the windows with his foliate kisses,
Softens to dew under the warmth of day.
Jack in the night, sheets of shivering silver,
Moonlight glow, show iridescent earth.
Jack in the night, gives me rhyme from rime,
With cutting-edge breeze and crackling turf.
Your touch, Mister Frost, causes petals to crinkle,
Makes mist of breath, makes goosebumps rise.
Your arctic caress means the water will tighten,
As the stars crawl across and the screech owl cries.
Jack in the night, chilling Candlemas guest,
Diaphanous narrator of a Winter's tale.
Jack in the night, fade with mellow sun rising,
Leaving streak-like tears, and a morning so pale.

Forts And Foreshores: The Other Side

My recent explorations of the Hoo Peninsula have led me to visit, among other sites, two abandoned Forts dating from the 1860's. The derelict hulks of Cliffe and Shornemead brood on the Kentish foreshore, stranded on a desolate marshland between pockets of heavy estuarine industry, staring out over a kilometre-wide section of the River Thames.

These Forts were built by the Palmerston government during a period of unsettled relations with the French. Cliffe occupied a virgin site, and Shornemead occupied the site of an earlier polygonal battery. However, in order to provide a triangulation of artillery fire across this 'hook' in the Thames, where river traffic would be obliged to slow down, it was also necessary to build another Palmerston Fort on the opposite shore - at Coalhouse Point in Essex, where previous defences had existed since at least Tudor times.

The earliest known defence at Coalhouse was a Blockhouse built by Henry VIII, who was concerned (quite rightly) about the possibility of an invasion by our escargot-munching friends across the Channel. It was one of several blockhouses in the area, and fell out of use before the end of the century. It was recorded in 1735 as being in a ruinous state, and now it is unsure whether the remains have completely disappeared or sunk into the mud of the foreshore. A ruined jetty, a mass of decayed wooden uprights and cracked concrete slabs, now occupy the site.

The site of the Tudor blockhouse

A battery was constructed at Coalhouse in 1799 at the height of the Napoleonic Wars, corresponding with the same across the river at Shornemead. It was strengthened to become a Fort between 1847-55, but this only saw a few years of service before its replacement by the Palmerston Fort which stands on the site today.

Coalhouse Fort ©CFMBC

Like Cliffe and Shornemead, it was designed by Captain Siborne of the Royal Engineers. Like Cliffe and Shornemead, it suffered serious problems with subsidence during its construction. However, unlike Cliffe and Shornemead, it was situated on the outskirts of a village, East Tilbury, rather than being stranded on an inhospitable saltmarsh. Coalhouse Fort, its last construction stages being supervised by General Gordon who would later become the martyr-hero of the Siege of Khartoum, was finally completed at a cost of £130,000. Unfortunately, due to the speed of the arms race at the time, its original purpose became obsolete rather quickly and it was necessary to support the Fort with the construction of a battery half a mile away, in the village itself.
Of which more later.

Barrack Block

Coalhouse Fort is considerably easier to reach than its Kentish neighbours, and on a showery Monday afternoon I pulled up in its carpark with my Eldest son by my side, ready to explore the historic and natural environment of this noble relic. As the building was closed to the public on this occasion, we satisfied ourselves with a perambulation of its exterior, taking note of various features as we strolled.

Casements. And my thumb.

During the First World War, a minefield was laid in the river. The mines were controlled remotely, which meant that friendly ships could pass safely, but enemy ships were in a whole lot of trouble. A building between the Fort and its moat was the Control Centre for the mining operation.

Mine Control Tower

Between the Fort and the foreshore stands another structure, the Quick Fire Battery. This was created in 1893 - not long after the construction ofbthe Battery in East Tilbury - to counter the threat from a new generation of torpedo boats. The QFB is easily accessible and, naturally, we explored it.

Quick Fire Battery

Coalhouse Fort remained garrisoned until 1946, when it was used by Sea Cadets and other nautical groups until being decommissioned in 1949. After this it went through a variety of uses, such as being used as a store by the nearby Bata shoe factory, a hostel for demobilised soldiers and their families, and even a coal store during a Miners' Strike. It was purchased by Thurrock Council in 1962 but, although they landscaped its environs to create a riverside park, the building itself was left to the mercy of time and vandals. Finally, in 1985, a heritage charity group called the Coalhouse Fort Project took over. They have been renovating the Fort ever since, hold regular Open Days and Events, and carry out routine maintenance. It featured on the BBC programme 'Restoration', which was watched by film director Christopher Nolan, who filmed some of the opening scenes of 'Batman Begins' at the Fort, doubling as a Bhutanese prison. Yes, when you see Christian Bale fighting fellow prisoners, it's not happening in some exotic Asian location, but at East Tilbury. Sorry to spoil the illusion.

The Dark Knight of East Tilbury

Following our exploration of the area immediately around the Fort, we ventured west into the village to look for the East Tilbury Battery. We located it, not far from the High Street, in dense scrub and bramble undergrowth beyond a small playground.

East Tilbury Battery gun emplacement © Essexghosthunters

The earth was soft underfoot and the brambles caught and snagged. Eldest tore his jeans scrambling over a rail but, much of our surroundings concealed by arboreal foliage, we managed to make some sense of what we were looking at. First port of call seemed to be an amenities block, where we tentatively identified barracks, latrines, and possible Mess Hall and kitchen.

Possible Mess Hall, with invasive vulpines

Next, we explored two of the Battery's three magazines, dark forbidding tunnels leading to winch machinery and ammunition store rooms. Our single torch being just about adequate, we lacked the light to take photographs, but others beat us to it - see the Links at the end of this article.

Overgrown magazine

The tunnels were dark, capacious and atmospheric. Stencilled directions to various stores could still be discerned upon the walls, even the shadows of coat hooks in what was presumably a cloakroom.

Entrance to a magazine. Be not of faint heart, should you wish to enter without adequate illumination.

After grappling with the East Tilbury Battery, we return to the village street and dodge a rain shower by popping into 'The Ship' for light refreshment, the establishment describing itself as 'the first, the last, and the cheapest pub in the village'. Following this, we amble back down toward the Fort.

Before reaching it, we pass the village church and I notice something odd about the old building. It has a squat western tower which seemed to have been built of the same material as the barrack block of the Fort. Closer inspection revealed a plaque:

A tower built as a war memorial

The plaque reveals that the Tower, begun in 1917 by the garrison of Coalhouse Fort, was to commemorate comrades lost in the Great War, as well as commemorating General Gordon, by then long dead in the Sudan.

We continue, bypassing thw Fort and heading for the foreshore. Along a track which was once the bed of an abandoned railway, Eldest is delighted to notice a tiny bird bouncing around in the hedgerow.

Female Firecrest ©gryllosblog

We reach the foreshore, which is dominated by a structure adjacent to the site of the Tudor blockhouse. It is a Radar Tower, in use from 1941-43, disguised as a Water Tower to fool passing Luftwaffe aircraft. Although its lower level, where a power plant, accomodation and radar screen used to be is accessible, it would take a brave soul to use the metal steps to the upper level. They look as though they are about to fall off at any minute.

Radar Tower on the foreshore

We set off on the coastal path for a quick stroll along the foreshore. Flocks of waders speckle the mudflats, predominant among them this specimen:

A black-tailed godwit

Soon, we encounter another foreshore feature. It appears to be the remnants of an old jetty.

Later investigation revealed that a series of jetties have occupied this spot since Tudor times, the original servicing the Henrician Blockhouse. The most recent incarnation was used to unload materials and artillery brought down the river by barge from Woolwich Arsenal. It would be unloaded here then taken to the Fort by a now vanished railway line.

A rainbow smears itself across the leaden, broken sky as we turn back to return to the Fort. Although only mid-afternoon, the gloom has created a crepuscular atmosphere, which might explain the unexpected aerial display we encountered on our return stroll. The bird, originally spotted hovering above the foreshore, swooped and swung around us as its large yellow eyes scoured the ground for prey. We stood watching it, entranced, for several minutes, until it shrank into the distance with the Power Station as its backdrop.

Short Eared Owl

The treat was yet to end; in the area between the Fort and the Quick Fire Battery, we were treated to a flying display by a second short eared owl, slightly smaller, which even allowed us to get quite close for a better admiring view as it perched in a gnarled tree.

An unexpected delight, and a wonderful finalé to my explorations of the Forts and Foreshores of the Thames Estuary. One thing I know, however. Now that I'm aware of their existence, their atmosphere and their stark beauty, I don't intend to be a stranger. Come the warmer months, when I fancy a spot of exploration, I'll be back among the lumps and bumps of the Hoo Peninsula like a wraith in the primeval landscape...



Links: Inside the East Tilbury Battery
Forts And Foreshores
Forts And Foreshores: The Return