The Battle of Muster Green actually saved Lewes from The King’s men.
Thomas Cromwell, I am sure, never thought for one moment that his great, great nephew Oliver would become to all intents and purposes King of England.
Oliver of course wasn’t Royalty in the true sense of the word but set himself up as a Lord Protector between 1653 and 1658 and assumed absolute control of the countries of England, Scotland and Ireland.
The Cromwells were obviously a very tough family. Thomas was a favourite of Henry VIII and at the dissolution of the monasteries in 1536, was sent to Lewes to knock down the massive and very powerful St Pancras Priory. He did a half decent job, if you’re into that sort of thing, and the Priory lay in ruins after Cromwell tore down most of its walls and sent the monks and their Prior packing.
There were no flies on our Tom, however and across the road from the Priory was a well built and attractive Tudor mansion, which he discovered and lusted after.
But alas, being a King’s favourite, especially to a temperamental , capricious and sometimes vicious monarch, doesn’t always bring long term benefits.
Thomas, having ruined the Priory, swash buckled his way into the King’s favour and was given the job of finding a new spouse for Henry. The King had just lost Jane Seymour who died giving birth to Henry’s child.
But Henry was appalled at Cromwell’s choice of Anne of Cleves, a German princess, who he couldn’t even get into bed with, she was that plain faced and unappealing.
He divorced her and as part of the settlement gave the manor, which Thomas Cromwell had lusted after, to Anne.
Losing the King’s favour, Thomas’s enemies soon gathered into a gang determined to ‘do’ him, and he was beheaded, ostensibly for picking Anne for his royal boss. The executioner, probably full of rum or brandy, needed three goes to lop Thomas’s head off, his victim writhing in agony as the poorly aimed axe rained down on his neck.
Once Cromwell had finished his nefarious work at the monastery, the good burghers of Lewes rushed to the Priory to filch the marble and slate cladding of the main buildings for their own use, leaving the skeleton of the inner walls to stand, stark against the sky, a warning to other churchmen not to step out of line and a reminder of the grandeur that was once a splendid and magnificent abbey.
One of the leading vandals, who carried much of the coveted stone away, was a local worthy named William Newton.
He built a manor house, by far the grandest Lewes dwelling of its time, in the Southover area and established a residency there that lasted in the family for more than 300 years.
Newton shouldn’t take all the blame. Bits of the Priory are scattered all over Lewes, including the White Hart Hotel.
During a refurbishment of the hotel, builders uncovered a classic window arch which had been lifted from the Priory and built into the walls of the coaching inn.
Owner Cliff Aries once showed it to me with justifiable pride, despite it being hidden for centuries from human eye.
Even though the Newton’s were leading citizens of the time, it is strange that the other important family in Lewes, the Pelham’s had many more places and buildings named after them. The Pelham Arms pub for instance and their own grand manor, Pelham House, which has variously been a local government office, a conference centre, a hotel and now a wedding organiser’s headquarters.
I don’t know that a Newton pub ever existed, but most certainly doesn’t today!
Like the Newtons, the Pelham’s lived in Lewes for many generations, more than 100 years continuously in Pelham House. And were leading citizens of the time.
Sir Nicholas Pelham was a bit of a character, in fact. Flamboyant and charismatic Nick was once thrown into the Tower of London because he told the King to get stuffed, but was also a local hero, dashing off to Seaford and the south coast to see off French marauders during the 100 years war.
A facsimile of his helmet is displayed in St Michael’s Church, the real one locked in a safe because of its great value.
So Pelham’s name is still bandied about, while the Newton’s has passed into history with only a fig filled biscuit to its name.
Yet the Newton’s were probably the more powerful of the two families and during the English Civil war of 1642-1651 were prominent supporters of Oliver Cromwell.
Cromwell was ten times more vicious than his great uncle. Not only did he have the King beheaded, but was responsible for the massacre of women and children in the Irish towns of Drogheda and Wexford, where he launched a military campaign, sending any survivors to slavery in the West Indies.
In the name of democracy, he sent Anglican priests to prison, and plundered the church, as Henry had done a hundred years earlier, deporting many native English men, along with the Irish as slaves, to the West Indies and slaughtering Roman Catholics with the same gay abandon that Queen Mary had burned Protestants in Lewes in her short but bloody rein.
Cromwell was a forbidding character. Pleasure and leisure were beyond his understanding, and he banned Christmas, the eating of mince pies, makeup and swearing. He also became a favourite with the Lord’s Day Observance Society by insisting everyone should work on the Sabbath! He was a Puritan of the most dedicated sort. His code of conduct was extremely strict, and he enforced it with an iron fist.
Among other things he banned, was bonfire celebrations in Lewes. The early revelry on November the Fifth didn’t have the discipline or organisation of the modern Bonfire Societies. Rather, groups of people would celebrate randomly in the streets. But rockets and rousers (bangers) apparently whizzed around the lanes, church bells were sounded and the locals made merry in celebrating the date.
That is until Oliver put a stop to it.
History is full of anomalies and Lewes’s relationship with Cromwell is one of them.
Perhaps because of the distaste for Queen Mary’s actions in burning the Martyrs, or because generally the South East of England were prosperous non royalists, it is always hard to look back and say why they supported Cromwell.
But Lewes was a stronghold of Puritanism, a religious fervour mostly favoured by the wealthy and when it came to support for the Crown or the Republicans in the English Civil War, Republicanism won out.
The Newtons, strong Puritans were on Cromwell’s team and very much in the Royalist’s sights as enemies.
The Royalists, with their flamboyant clothes, long wavy hair and less than moral behaviour, at least by Cromwell’s standards, commanded support mostly in the West Country and the poorer areas of the North of England.
But they needed to expand their power base and take control of much more of the south than they had held previously.
The Royalists were smarting from the loss of Arundel Castle in 1644. The Royalist stronghold had been captured by the Roundheads in 1642, retaken by Royalists in 1643, then taken again by Cromwell in 1644.
The castle today is well preserved and well cared for. This is partly as a result of the family who actually live in part of it, but also because the final assault by the Roundheads took place without a shot being fired.
The Castle depended on its water supply from a small lake which still sits just below the castle walls.
The Roundhead army used the clever tactic of cutting off the water supply and forcing the Royalists to capitulate.
It is said that when the surrender took place, the amount of food inside the castle would have kept its residents alive for many months, possibly even years. But without water, the food had little purpose, and the Cromwellians took the prize.
Part of the King’s strategy was to cross the border from Hampshire into Sussex, which was similar to the ‘front line’ in today’s military parlance. Knowing that the leading Lewesian William Newton was a strong Puritan, King Charles’s South Western Command set a strategy of attacking Sussex strongholds, and Lewes was a prime target.
There is no actual evidence that the Royalists charged over the border shouting ‘Get the Newton’s’, but they sent a force under the High Sherriff of Sussex, Sir Edward Ford, who set out to conquer the much-prized South East.
At first, they were successful. They attacked Chichester and seized it from its Republican supporters. Then they focused on the other major towns in Sussex.
Remember that Chichester and Lewes had been contestants for the title of most important Sussex town since Saxon times. The assizes, an important institution in determining the status of a community kept switching between the two towns with Lewes, the final victor in eventually establishing a permanent Sussex assize. Lewes also had two Mints, while Chichester only had one. East wins.
The Royalist raiding party camped at Cuckmere before preparing to march on Lewes, which probably saved the County Town from being raided. A Parliamentary force waylaid the Royalists at Muster Green just outside Haywards Heath.
In chatting to a friend about the battle of Haywards Heath, he was amazed that there was any community there at all before George Stephenson invented the Rocket.
But a scattered settlement of manor houses and farms is recorded at Haywards Heath in the mid-1500’s and although the railway was the catalyst that brought wealth and prosperity to the area, it was a location that was documented in 1642, with a 16th-century pub, the Dolphin in its midst.
The battle was fierce. The Parliamentarians were headed up by Sir Harbert Morley, who lived at Glynde Place, outside Lewes. The fighting was bloody, although military historians declare that no artillery was used on either side.
Defeated, the Royalists limped back towards Chichester and Lewes was saved.
But perhaps because he was defending his own back garden, Morley fought like a demon and after an hour’s close combat fighting, the Royalists abandoned the field, having lost some 200 men. The Sealed Knot reconstructed the battle with over 3000 participants in 2012 at Morley’s home in Glynde.
The Newtons, who remained unharmed and untouched during the nine-year long war, played a serious part in English life, from politics to literature.
They didn’t fall foul of Oliver Cromwell during the years of the English Protectorate, not did they come to harm after Charles II returned to the throne in 1660.
The house is now used as a council registry office, a humiliating end to a building that was at the centre of so much violent and bloody history but escaped without a scratch.
The gardens are exquisite, divided by the Winterbourne River, now a channelled stream, but once mighty enough to carry cargo ships to the landing docks of the nearby Priory. It has a Knots Garden, that’s a symmetrically laid out formal garden, small but exquisite. It’s often my summer office, where I can escape even on a windy day to read, write and occasionally film for television.
The staunchly Republican Newtons of the 17th century must turn in their graves at the alliances their descendant got up to.
The Prince Regent, later George IV, used Lewes as his personal playground. He was a gambler and drove a ‘coach and four’ down the very steep and cobbled Keere Street as a bet. On race days at the nearby Lewes Racecourse, which some say goes back to 1702, he drew crowds of thousands who wanted to rubberneck at the playboy prince and the colourful but shady lot who were part of his entourage.
But the Prince also used local hotels to entertain some of the ladies who caught his eye and was a frequent guest of the Newtons. On one occasion he was said to have stayed there with his long-time mistress Maria Fitzherbert who some said he secretly married – so much for puritan morality and Republican sentiments.
The change of heart about royalty doesn’t end there, however.
Princess Elizabeth came to Lewes in 1951, before becoming Queen, and planted trees in the Newton’s garden.
Now ‘what if’ becomes the question that must burble onto everyone’s lips.
What if the Royalists had won the battle of Hayward’s Heath, what would have happened to the Newtons? Could they have escaped censure from King Charles? He was not known as a man with a forgiving nature.
Would Bonfire have never been banned? There’s no evidence that either royalty or the Anglican Church objected to it.
But would the Grange still be there and would ‘Prinny’ ‘have used it as a love nest while gambolling through Lewes?
What’s more, it was The Prince Regent, who bestowed on his son, Prince Augustus Frederick, the title Duke of Sussex.
So if that Battle at Haywards Heath had been won by the Royalists, would we now have The Duke and Duchess of Sussex trotting up and down to Lewes
The mind boggles. But the little-known battle of Muster Green changed the course of history and from grim Protestant Purists of the 1600 turned us into a town which once had 63 pubs and 17 breweries. Oh, Bliss.
The Day the Battle of Haywards Heath saved Lewes