Folkestone Magazine - The Lower Sandgate Road

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The Lower Sandgate Road

Written by H Ullyett 1880

Thursday, 18 October 2007

The old sandstone cliffs on the one hand, the eversounding sea on the other;—who that knows Folkestone does not know the Lower Road? Judging by the numbers that frequent it we should say there are few rambles in the neighbourhood to be compared with it; be it summer or winter, it is never deserted. What shall be our musings as we wander along the pebbly beach, or stroll up the romantic path cut on the face of the cliff through the miniature groves of Scotch Fir? Perhaps it will be wiser, certainly more successful, to give our thoughts the rein, and let them carry us whither they will, for at every fresh step we shall gain fresh reminders, and old associations will rush back again on the mind.

These old grey cliffs, what tales they could tell of the days that are gone! What stirring scenes have once and again been witnessed from their summit! Time was, when the road at their foot was a rocky sea shore, over which the waves dashed unceasingly in the days when mankind were no less tumultuous than themselves: possibly, nay some will have it, very probably, the woad-stained Briton, and the hoary Druid watched from thence the proud fleet of the Romans nearing the shore; and since then Saxon and Dane, and Frenchman have in their turn paid hostile visits and left unwelcome tokens behind. On that platform, in the days when it stretched much further seaward than now, was erected the first Religious House in Britain, presided over by no less a person than Eanswythe, daughter of Eadbald, King of Kent, but ages ago it was washed away by the hungry waves; and the original parish church shared the same fate.

Vessels, equipped and manned by our forefathers, started again and again from below in obedience to the summons of the Warden of the Cinque Ports, even up to the time of the Armada, and after; then gradually the warlike tendencies died out, and not a hundred years ago the whole locality was a great smuggling depot. They smuggled English guineas across to France, and they smuggled tobacco, silks, and spirits back to England, and that so daringly that the cargoes were openly displayed on the beach. Clefts and. caves abound in the chalk cliffs which were excavated for hiding places, and the curiously built old houses in the ancient part of the town, the intricate passages, and the trap doors, which rouse the curiosity of the visitors, are thus easily accounted for. But now quieter times are come, the fishing smack and the collier, with an occasional cargo of timber are all that find ingress and egress at the port, and there is leisure for grander things. To the Naturalist, who has learnt to Look on Nature as a volume Ever open to Inspection, this Lower Road must needs be a favourite resort, whatever his tastes, there are treasures here worth the seeking, and mysteries which a lifetime would fail to unravel.

To the Geoloqist it is interesting as the commencement of that escarpment at of Greensand which runs round the great Weald district to meet the sea again at Beachy Head. The strata appear to dip five or six degrees to the east, but the true dip is probably N.E. ; we may follow these lines past the Harbour until they enter the bed of the sea. No profusion of organic remains is to be detected in them; many of the blocks contain coarse grains of quartz and glauconite, showing that the waters of the old sea were far from tranquil, an opinion borne out by the many evidences of false bedding and cross-stratification presented in the face of the cliff, and wherever a quarry is opened. The rocks belong to the subdivision known as the Folkestone Beds; a short distance past the Bathing Establishment the Sandgate Beds crop out—a dark mixture of clay and sand, in which we may occasionally find fossil wood much bored and tunnelled by worms.

A little more interest attaches to a limited deposit of Pleistocene age crowning the cliff at the back of the Pavilion Hotel, just below the Battery. In this, some years ago, were found bones of the extinct mammoth, Rhinoceros, Hippopotamus Irish Elk, Reindeer, &c., bringing before the minds eve another picture of the past, older and stranger than any of the historical pictures already noted. It is a freshwater deposit, as shown by some shells found in it by Mr McKenny Hughes, during a hurried visit.But where is the river that laid it down? Was it the stream which cut out the Folkestone valley, the representative of which now ignobly creeps along under the Viaduct, and then, hastening out of sight through the mill and along the back of Tontine Street, buries itself in the Harbour? Can that be the impoverished descendant of a river on whose banks the lingo Mammoth found food, in whose rushy bed the Hippopotamus bathed? Who knows? And when was it all done?

Rhinoceros

Can We Tell The Ages?

I am constantly asked by those whose curiosity exceeds their taste for geology how many years ago it is since these creatures lived. But the geologist reckons not by years, cannot so reckon, however much lie may wish it. His chronology is relative, not absolute, for he has no certain data on which to base his calculations.

Certainly at that time, whenever it was, the extinct elephant was no scarce beast in the locality; its bones cannot be said to be uncommon, they are now and then turned up out of the clay in the brickfields. Part of a fine shoulder blade, now in the Museum, was disinterred in 1876 near the Cheriton Arch, close by the spot where, a few months before, some teeth and bones of the Rhinoceros were found. I have also a box full of bones belonging to a skeleton of a very small Mammoth found on Park Farm in 1868. A very slight exercise of the imagination suffices to picture out the stores of vegetation which must have covered all this district, as necessary to support these huge mammals. Like their modern representatives in Africa, they would require a luxuriant herbage, and we may fairly compare this district with their present dwelling place. But they themselves are all gone, they are a vanished race. “The old order changeth, giving place to the new.”

They probably disappeared before the advances of the half naked but more sagacious Colt, or even his predecessors, who with their flint-tipped arrows forced on their destruction. Now they are gone too, and we have the nineteenth century with railroads and telegraphs, electric lights and microphones. Tempora mutantur. The times are changing. And now, what of the botany of the Lower Road? It is truly a storehouse of treasures. From the time when the banks are yellow with Furze blossoms in January to the appearance of the orange berries on the Sea Buckthorn the slopes are a blaze of colour. And chiefly it it is golden. The Furze blossoms have not disappeared before the

Kingcups or Buttercups (whichever name you prefer) spread themselves luxuriantly in all directions. Not one or two species only, for Ranunculus acris is there, though sparingly; R.bulbosus as usual, is without limit, and 11. repens rears its head crowned with a corolla an inch and a quarter across, two feet and more above its lowlier neighbours. Then in June, mixing with the dying blossoms of the Ranubculaceae comes the glorious hue of the Bird’s-foot Trefoil (Lotus corniculatus) and a host of its relatives. In no one spot have I ever seen gathered together so many representatives of the Leguminosae and among them such good things. I give at the end of this ramble a list of the species found on this road. The botanist will notice particularly Lathyrus Nissolia, and L. pratensis, Viciabithynica Trifoliun suffocatun, and T.arvense, He will, I know, want to start at once for Lathyrus Aphaca but that, like so many good things, belongs to the days of old; I have never seen it, but Mr. Mackeson, of Hythe tells me he gathered it there many years ago. But Nissolia is still to be seen, though in greatly diminished numbers, for the path has been cut close by, if not through, the very spot where I saw it every year. The same place was also sacred to the Deptford Pink (Dianthus Armeria); I have never seen them elsewhere. I have not been able to find either of them since 1877, though I have been told of a solitary specimen of each gathered in 1879; I would fain believe they are still lingering in some unknown, and therefore safe nook. The patches of V. lith ynica aro rather extensive ; it is a vctch which attracts notice at once by the white wings of the flower, backed by the purple standard. Trifolium and Medicago arc represented by several species, and L. pratensis is here in groves. T. arvense, the Hare'sfoot Trefoil grows only in one small patch near the summit above the turnpike gate.

On the slope below the Old Church the Nottingham Catchfly (Silene nutans) crowds together, and a small patch of the fragrant Butterbur (Petasites fragrans) appears quite naturalized elosehy. The Fennel Faeniculum officinale) betrays its presence by its odour just behind the Bathing Establishment, where it is surrounded by tall straggling heads of Charlock (Sinapis arvensis) and its close relation S. alba. A few years ago I found a grand specimen of the Dame’s Violet (Hesperis matronalis) but it has since disappeared. Beyond the turnpike gate the cliff face in May and June is covered with the pretty pink blossoms of Thrift (Armeria ma ritima ), and the common Stone-crop (Sedum acre) flowers along the border of the upper path; we may also find a few specimens of it on the rocks on the opposite side of the road, in which patch of ground flourishes also the Burdock (Arctium Lappa) Here too by the sidle of a stream containing just enough water to keep its channel marshy, I was shown four or five years ago the bright blossoms and leaves of the Bog Pimpernel (anagallis tenella it was plentiful then, and the specimens I gathered have lost little of their beauty, but the slips and shiiftings of the ground seem now to have caused its disappearance. Here and there along the road we find the Tree Mallow (Laratera arborea), the Woody Nightshade (Solamum dulcamara), and the Teazel (Dipsacus sylvestis its). The Brambles are in prolusion, but (except in fruiting time) I always fight shy of them, having a wholesome fear of Babington and his forty-nine species. There are the Dewberry Rubus casius) and the Blackberry (R. fruticosus), that is all I venture to say about them.

Lotus Corniculatus

One thing, however, the Lower Road lacks, namely trees, they do not seem to get on there at all; the Scotch Fir thrives the best, but even these are sorry specimens, libels on their species to any one who has seen the magnificent trees ill some parts of Scotland. Several hundreds have been lately planted on the slopes, the majority of which bid fair to succeed, so that in a few years there will be a great improvement. And while we are speaking of this Fir, let me tell you that it is worth while tapping the blossoms with your stick in the early summer only to see the enormous clouds of yellow pollen which will fill the air. Concerning which pollen, strange tales were afloat during the summer of 1879. In the neighbourhood of Eton and some other spots, it was noted that the ponds of water after rain were covered with a yellow powder. Forthwith it got noised abroad that there had been a shower of sulphur, and it was not reckoned polite by some persons to guess where it came from; one good wife in describing it, said “it smelt awful strong,” filling the air round about with its odour; many good people guiltless of botanical lore “improved” the occasion, others (true Englishmen) wrote to the papers about it. A certain botanist, however, who possessed a microscope, annihilatedi (or altempted to annihilate) all their speculations by declaring the yellow dust to be merely the pollen of the Scotch Fir. Some one, hailing from the Emerald Isle, declined the annihilation, and in his turn wrote to the papers, saying that whatever the powder might prove to be in England, it was neither more nor less than genuine brimstone in Ireland, and rashly offered to send some to the learned botanist. The offer was accepted, and once again (as I need hardly remind! my readers) Ireland was robbed of her hopes by the Saxon.

I must now add N.B. Caution to Botanists. You will find on some parts of these slopes specimens of bona fide garden flowers, the seeds of which were scattered about by a friend of mine in order (he said) to increase the attractions of the cliff. I know what the opinions of many botanists concerning such practices are; I express none, I only give an explanation which might possibly be needed.

. To the Entomologist I can only give a few directions. Many lepidoptera are common enough here, but there are two or three worth hunting for. Of Tupinostola Bondii you may take as many as you want ; the larvae have been found feeding up in the stems of Fesruea arundinacea a grass winch is very abundant here. On the stunted poplars ‘‘ once upon a time “ Dr. Knaggs found larvae of the Anchorite (Closteia abchoreta) which duly produced imagos, the ancestors of most of the specimens now in English cabinets. I have myself reared C. eurtula and C. reclusa from caterpillars off these trees. Notodonta dictaea and N.ziczac two of the Prominent Moths, are still to be found; the larvae of the Puss Moth (Dicranura vinula) may be taken by scores, and D. bifida has occurred here. The Satin Moth (Liparis salicis) and the Brown Tail (L. chrysorrhaea), the Poplar and Privet Hawks abound, and an occasional Death's Head turns up, feeding either on the potatoes in the cultivated patch or on the Garden Tea-tree which surrounds them. Apropos of this insect let me tell you a tale with a moral. A friend of mine out in a boat one evening caught a fine specimen which had settled on the sail. He brought it home and allowed it to wonder about the room till after tea, when he purposed to kill it. Accordingly we had a chase after it until it settled on my arm as if appealing to me for protection little thinking that I too had a vacant space in my cabinet labelled A. atropos On my attempting to seize it, it uttered its well known ‘ shriek,’’ which sounded so like a piteous appeal for life that my friend’s tender feelings overcame his entomological desires, and he declared at once it should not be put to death. So he put it under a glass shade, where in a few day he found it starved to death. Moral :—Poison your insects at once.

Atropos

At the flowers of Silene nutans you may very probably in June take Dianthecia albimacula an insect worth pounds three or four years ago in the market, but now its value is reckoned in shillings. It unaccountably turned up again in this country when everybody thought it was gone, and not only asserted its right as a Britisher, but came in numbers. Some dozens are caught every year in the Folkestone district. Will some of the other insects now on the list of the dear departed ever come back to our land? Shall we ever see the Large Copper again? More unlikely things have occurred. A few larvae and imagos of the Cream-Spot Tiger (Aretia rillica) are taken every year, but they get scarcer, so by the bye do those of Arctia caja—Woolly Bears, for which it is difficult to account. I have reared fine broods of the Emperor Moth (Saturn carpiani)from caterpillars off these brambles; how is it there have been none the last year or two? But 1879 was a bad year for larvae, at any rate in this locality, else generally the bushes in the hollow past the turnpike gate have been swarming with them.

The only butterflies worth noticing here are the Clouded Yellows (Colias Edusa and C. Hyale with a few Helice which come occasionally in their unaccountably independent fashion. Melitea Cinxia is also said to have formerly fed on these slopes.

In conclusion, if you, gentle reader, should belong to that unhappy section of mankind known as the non-naturalists, I may yet say you will enjoy this ramble. You may wander along and allow your thoughts to rove whither they will, and that is very pheasant occasionally. It is pleasant to throw one's self down in one of the mossy hollows just beyond the Half-way Rocks, and let the benign influences of Nature herself have fall sway. There, as the last rays of the sun tinge the waters, and the distant horizon becomes more and more obscure, a pleasing sadness will come over you, full of longings which you cannot utter; the white sails before you fading away into dimness and uncertainty will carry your thoughts on to the " Land beyond the Sea,” into which you hope to sail when the twilight of Life comes on, and winds and storms shall have become things of the past.

LIST OF THE LEGUMINOSEA FOUND IN THE LOWER Road

Ulex europrnus. Vicia hirsuta.
Ononis arvensis. ,, Cracca.
campestris. ,, bithynica
Medicago sativa. ,, sativa
maculata. Lathyrus Aphaea.
lupulina. " Nissolia.
Trifolium pratense ,, pratensis.
,, arvense. Hippocrepis comosa.
scabrum. Onobrychis sativa.
repens. Lotus corniculatus.
procumbens. Anthyllis vulneraria.

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Last Updated ( Tuesday, 23 October 2007 )

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Death In The Trees

It appears the Telegraph has death on the mind or there is very little interesting news to report from around the world. We do not need too much convincing that we are not only running out of space to build new homes we are also running out of space to bury the dead.
The Victorians recognised this problem and began building crematoriums the most majestic of these I believe to be the North London Crematorium at Golders Green. I say that because the majority of my ancestors from the past one-hundred years are scattered there as are some of the most famous British people. The Victorians’ thought that it would be a little like a library or block of flats with row upon row of shelves and cubby holes were we could store our loved ones ashes. Regrettably, they ran out of space. A similar problem has occurred in churches and the graveyards have run out of space. The Church has now agreed to woodland burials and have, in some areas, consecrated the ground for Christian burial. This was a very urgent matter as many towns in England no longer had space to bury the dead.
There has been some concern that the Church of England, having had difficulty managing and caring for graves near churches will find it even more difficult to care for woodland graves that may be some distance from a church. The Church of England dismiss this though have made it know that there will be no gravestones only biodegradable wooden plaques; they have also suggested that a tree be planted with the body. Tree and body planting would probably be more acceptable to many than heating and lighting the crematorium. Folkestone Magazine would like to take that a little further and suggest the burial be handled by the family and a tree chopped down and hollowed out and used as a coffin. The bark, branches and chippings could be put to one side for Indian Funerals. A woodland funeral could become a regular event for families bringing them back together. The celebrity chefs could show us how to prepare backed potatoes in their jackets, hot roast chestnuts and mulled wine for the winter and light smoked salmon salads using woodland herbs for the warmer days.