Growing up as a shipwreck scavenger

From the little lad whose schooling ended on his tenth birthday to the boy who grew up to drive the Prime Minister Winston Churchill in Russia, from the schoolboy punished for reading too fast to the youngster who patted the King's dog '“ for someone in Seaford this was an important moment, something they would always remember. To me has fallen the happy task of recording some of those events, while leaving it for later generations to add their own anecdotes!

Fred had only five years schooling and on his tenth birthday in 1877 had his first job for Alfred Burgess at the New Inn (now The Wellington). His task was to clean boots, knives and other things; every afternoon with a wooden yoke across his shoulders with a pail on each side he would go to and from Banks's yard (later the Clock Bakery at the bottom of the High Street) for drinking water from their well, filling a crock with about 20 gallons. When there were floods at the bottom end of the town the well water was tainted and he had to go farther to find fresh water.

One day Mr Burgess called Fred to come and look out across the bay; he saw a warship sailing by, and was told it was bringing home the body of the Prince Imperial, killed in the Zulu War. Mr Burgess was succeeded at the New Inn by Mr Avis, formerly of The Terminus.

Each summer Fred looked forward to the arrival at Corsica Hall of the Honourable Artillery Company for their camp, and all their exciting activities '“ two days gunnery practice (after which the local boys could get four pence each for digging the cannon balls out), a band concert every evening and a fine firework display on farewell night. Before Fred's time you could have seen the remains of the old Seaford battery opposite The Causeway, but it had all been washed away by the tides. He knew there had been three guns, and what became of one of them. It can be seen to this day at the base of our Little Steyne memorial fountain. Fred remembered: 'The fountain was got by public subscription to celebrate the 50th year of Queen Victoria's reign, June 21, 1887. They meant to mark the site of the old King's well (in front of the New Inn) but couldn't find it, so put the fountain in the middle of the road. It soon got in the way there so they moved it to Little Steyne and from there to what will probably be its last resting place (in the Salts Recreation Ground).'

Not so! It has now returned to Little Steyne (re-named Jubilee Gardens) where it was dedicated by Mayor Dr Jill Rosser as Seaford Memorial sundial.

Fred's memories are so full and packed with incident that they make a book in themselves: here I have to confine them to just one other aspect, that of the time-honoured practice of scavenging after shipwrecks. Over and over Fred, his friends and family report on their spoils: from the American Union '“ 'I remember tins of pineapple because I had some'; from the Simla '“ 'I went out under the cliff before breakfast and found a case of ham and I got home with it. Others wanted to carry too much and were stopped by the Coastguards'.

Legitimately, Fred's father, working in a team led by Major Crook, earned 32s 6d salvage money that same morning.

A clear visual memory of another shipwreck was recalled many years later by a chance remark. In 1899 a little girl had stood beside her mother on the seafront, watching the once-proud Peruvian being battered against the sea wall by the fierce waves, making sparks fly. Later in life she lost her sight and forgot about the wreck till mention of the spectacle in a local history talk had her cry out: 'I remember! I remember mother's red shopping bag, and how the sparks flew!'

(To be continued)

PAT BERRY

Warmest thanks for all kind messages, cards and visits during my enforced absence from the Express, with special appreciation of the great work by Kevin Gordon so expertly taking my place, and step-daughter Susan's tremendous support on all fronts (including her fingers to do my typing!)