Highways and Byways in Sussex — Themes and Context

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Authors: Lucas, E. V. (Edward Verrall), 1868-1938, Griggs, Frederick Landseer Maur, 1876-1938 [Illustrator] Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2007 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Sussex (England) -- Description and travel Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 131,481

Reading time 572 min

Text sections 20

For Highways and Byways in Sussex — Themes and Context, the stored edition analysis reports 131,481 words, 9 hr 32 min estimated reading time, and 20 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 24.2 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Sussex (England) -- Description and travel,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #20696

E. V. Lucas's 1904 travelogue weaves personal appreciation, local history, and literary allusion into a zigzag tour of Sussex, emphasizing the Downs and the byways over practical guidebook facts.

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Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
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Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
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File: pg20696

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en was taken to a goodlie fish-pond (now a meadow) where was an angler. After some words from him a band of fishermen approached, drawing their nets after them; whereupon the angler, turning to her Majesty, remarked that her virtue made envy blush and stand amazed. Having thus spoken, the net was drawn and found to be full of fish, which were laid at Elizabeth's feet. The entry for this day ends with the sentence, "That evening she hunted." On Thursday the lords and ladies dined at a table forty-eight yards long, and there was a country dance with tabor and pipe, which drew from her Majesty "gentle applause." On Friday, the Queen knighted six gentlemen and passed on to Chichester.

[Sidenote: A DESPERADO POET]

A year later the first Lord Montagu died. He was succeeded by another Anthony, the author of the "Book of Orders and Rules" for the use of the family at Cowdray, and the dedicatee of Anthony Copley's _Fig for Fortune_, 1596. Copley has a certain Sussex interest of his own, having astonished not a little the good people of Horsham. A contemporary letter describes him as "the most desperate youth that liveth. He did shoot at a gentleman last summer, and did kill an ox with a musket, and in Horsham church he threw his dagger at the parish clerk, and it stuck in a seat of the church. There liveth not his like in England for sudden attempts." Subsequently the conspirator-poet must have calmed down, for he states in the dedication to my lord that he is "now winnowed by the fan of grace and Zionry." To-day he would say "saved." Copley, after narrowly escaping capital punishment for his share in a Jesuit plot, disappeared.

The instructions given in Lord Montagu's "Booke of Orders and Rules" illustrate very vividly the generous amplitude of the old Cowdray establishment. Thus:--

MY CARVER AND HIS OFFICE.

I will that my carver, when he cometh to the ewerye boorde, doe there washe together with the Sewer, and that done be armed (videlt.) with an armeinge towell cast about his necke, and putt under his girdle on both sides, and one napkyn on his lefte shoulder, and an other on the same arme; and thence beinge broughte by my Gentleman Usher to my table, with two curteseyes thereto, the one about the middest of the chamber, the other when he cometh to ytt, that he doe stande seemely and decently with due reverence and sylence, untill my dyett and fare be brought uppe, and then doe his office; and when any meate is to be broken uppe that he doe carrye itt to a syde table, which shalbe prepared for that purpose and there doe ytt; when he hath taken upp the table, and delivered the voyder to the yeoman Usher, he shall doe reverence and returne to the ewrye boorde there to be unarmed. My will is that for that day he have the precedence and place next to my Gentleman Usher at the wayter's table.

MY GENTLEMEN WAYTERS.

I will that some of my Gentlemen Wayters harken when I or my wiffe att any tyme doe walke abroade, that they may be readye to give their attendance uppon us, some att one tyme and some att another as they shall agree amongst themselves; but when strangeres are in place, then I will that in any sorte they be readye to doe such service for them as the Gentleman Usher shall directe. I will further that they be dayly presente in the greate chamber or other place of my dyett about tenn of the clocke in the forenoone and five in the afternoone without fayle for performance of my service, unles they have license from my Stewarde or Gentleman Usher to the contrarye, which if they exceede, I will that they make knowne the cause thereof to my Stewarde, who shall acquaynte me therewithall. I will that they dyne and suppe att a table appoynted for them, and there take place nexte after the Gentlemen of my Horse and chamber, accordinge to their seniorityes in my service.

[Sidenote: THE HOUSE OF MONTAGU]

The third Viscount Montagu was not remarkable, but his account books are quaint reading. From July, 1657, to July, 1658, his steward spent _£_1,945 10_s._ solely in little personal matters for his master. Among the disbursements were, on September 11th, fourteen pence "for washing Will Stapler"; on November 22nd, 1_s._ 4_d._ to the Lewes carrier "for bringing a box of puddings for my mistress and my master"; on January 17th, _£_4 to "Mr. Fiske the dancing-master for teaching my master to dance, being two months"; and on April 21st, seven shillings "for a Tooth for my Lord."

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E. V. Lucas opens his account of Sussex by declaring his book less a guide than an appreciation, a bouquet gathered from the county rather than a compendium of practical facts. The route he chooses is deliberately indirect: entering at Midhurst in the west, he zigzags north to south and back again, a pattern he admits is not the most efficient for a traveller in a carriage or on a bicycle, but one that allows him to return repeatedly to the Downs, the landscape that clearly holds his deepest affection. The structure of the book thus mirrors the movement of a leisurely walker, not a hurried tourist.

A Zigzag Route and the Pull of the Downs

Lucas explains in his preface that the order of progress through Sussex has been determined largely by the lines of railway, yet he immediately undercuts any sense of systematic coverage. He enters at Midhurst, then moves to Chichester, Arundel, Petworth, Horsham, Brighton, and so on, but the route is less a logical itinerary than a series of tangents. He acknowledges that a reader might prefer to cover the county “strip by strip”—the Forest strip, the Weald strip, the Downs strip—rather than follow his north-south, south-north crossings. But, he adds, “the book is, I think, the gainer by these tangents, and certainly its author is happier, for they bring him again and again back to the Downs.” This repeated return to the chalk hills becomes a structural refrain, a way of anchoring the narrative in a landscape that Lucas clearly finds inexhaustible.

Recurring Images: The Study Fire and the Sussex Hills

A poem quoted early in the text, “The Resolute Titmice,” presents a striking image of the ideal reader: “Happy, who rich in toys like these / Forgets a weary nation’s ills, / Who from his study window sees / The circle of the Sussex hills.” This vision of a quiet, book-lined room overlooking the Downs recurs as a kind of emblem for Lucas’s own approach. He is a collector of anecdotes, literary references, and historical curiosities, and his narrative often feels like a fireside ramble rather than a field guide. The image of the study fire, the first editions, and the view of the hills suggests a mode of travel that is as much intellectual as physical—a journey conducted through books and memories as well as through the landscape itself.

Movement Between Scenes: From Post-Boxes to Playbills

Lucas’s transitions between topics are often abrupt, moving from a natural history anecdote to a theatrical playbill without warning. At Rowfant, he recounts the determined struggle of titmice nesting in a post-box, a story drawn from the Natural History Museum at South Kensington. In the next paragraph, he is in East Grinstead, describing Sackville College and then, with a shift in tone, reproducing an eighteenth-century playbill for Theodosius; or, the Force of Love. The playbill includes a delicate hint that nobility might ornament the altar with flowers, and a note that “the great yard dog that made so much noise on Thursday night during the last act of King Richard the Third, will be sent to a neighbour.” These leaps—from birds to college to theatre—create a mosaic of Sussex life, where the trivial and the historical sit side by side.

The Role of the Illustrator and the Visual Texture

The illustrations by Frederick L. Griggs are an integral part of the book’s structure, providing visual punctuation to Lucas’s prose. The excerpts include references to specific illustrations, such as “The Judge’s Houses, East Grinstead,” which suggests that the images are not merely decorative but closely tied to the places described. Lucas’s text often lingers on architectural details—the “quiet restfulness” of Sackville College’s quadrangle, the “commanding pinnacled church tower” of East Grinstead—and Griggs’s drawings presumably reinforce these observations. The combination of word and image creates a layered experience, inviting the reader to move between description and depiction, much as Lucas moves between towns and landscapes.

Lucas’s Sussex is a county of digressions, where a post-box can become a battlefield and a playbill a window into eighteenth-century theatrical life. Readers who approach this book expecting a systematic guide will be disappointed; those who treat it as a companion for idle hours, a collection of curiosities and appreciations, will find themselves repeatedly surprised. The best way to use it is to let Lucas lead you where he will, following his tangents and his returns to the Downs, and to enjoy the bouquet he has gathered, even if some of the flowers are familiar.

I have often lingered over Lucas’s Sussex, preferring the zigzag to the straight road, much as I linger over his Oregon cousin. Both books share that unhurried pace, that willingness to let a landscape speak through its small, particular details. They sit near each other on my shelf, quiet companions in wandering. Two Years in Oregon — Context and Discussion holds the same patient fondness for place, and I find myself returning to both.