The ruinous, medieval fortifications clambered out from the marshland ahead of me, heralding the endearing, designated ‘Ancient Town’ to come. Winchelsea is one of the highlights of the 1066 Country Walk, which threads 31 miles along rolling Wealden hills between the coastal towns of Pevensey and Rye, via Battle and its Great Wood.
Relaunched in 2021, the trail commemorates East Sussex‘s association with the Norman conquest. The path is waymarked by 10 sculptures created by local artist Keith Pettit, each inspired by the Bayeux Tapestry.
If split into two days of 15 or so miles, the first day sees the walker set off from Pevensey, where William’s Norman army landed on 27 September 1066, and head to Battle, where the Battle of Hastings took place on 14 October 1066.
Watch NowThe Normans occupied the castle at Pevensey in 1066, which was once a Roman fortress and whose surviving, impressively robust curtain wall is originally Roman. The 1066 Country Walk picks up across the road where a shady corridor opens onto the Pevensey Levels. This Site of Special Scientific Interest is traversed with a steady plod over flat paths intersecting wetland meadows. The path ascends into the woody and gently rolling hills of the High Weald and soon passes directly in view of the 15th century, brick-built Herstmonceux Castle.
A few hours after setting off, I set myself down on a bench atop Tent Hill, a rise in the former medieval deer park of Ashburnham Estate. The Ashburnham family established themselves on this land a few decades after the Norman conquest, and the grounds of the grand Ashburnham Place were designed by Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown in 1767. More tantalising is the suggestion that the English or Norman armies may have pitched up here, with views stretching to the South Downs, on the eve of the Battle of Hastings.
A few more miles took me alongside Senlac Hill, the generally accepted site of the Battle of Hastings. Battle Abbey was built on its summit on the orders of King William to mark the battle and perhaps compensate, spiritually-speaking, for all the killing it involved. Battle offers plenty of rooms in hotels, inns and private apartments if prepared in advance. In warmer months, there are also campsites a taxi journey away.
Battle Great Wood; Farbanks Henge
Image Credit: Kyle Hoekstra
On the other hand, perhaps a more authentic means of bedding down on the route is to pitch surreptitiously beneath the conifers of Battle Great Wood, an old woodland criss-crossed by wide, muddy tracks. The early medieval English made use of the woods for charcoal and the iron industry. As the last light was split by pines, I claimed a well-drained patch between their roots onto which I unfurled a pocket-sized tent, stretched out and lit my stove.
The following morning I wriggled from my sleeping bag to a quiet dawn chorus. Overnight rain had made gummy bog of the morning’s tracks which headed south and east towards Rye. At one moment, I had to remove my bag to crawl beneath a tree that had been wrenched over a walkway. When I was far from woods and marshland, I made coffee and porridge in a field beside a big oak.
A regular sight along the 1066 Country Walk are converted oast houses, elsewhere called hop kilns. These singular, cowled buildings, where hops were dried and stored for brewing, allude to the centuries of rural hop-growing which preceded 20th century industrialisation.
Watch NowThe walk soon broke onto open pasture and delivered me to a sculpture known as Farbanks Henge, a circle of oak monoliths inspired by trees on the Bayeux Tapestry. Here I met Peter, a local of Battle, and walked with him on the subsequent miles of country lanes and meadows through Icklesham to Winchelsea.
As we approached Winchelsea, he pointed out the isolated ruins of a gatehouse. I was already attuned to the town’s intriguing past. Over the past day I’d listened to Alex Prestons’ 2022 novel Winchelsea, which depicts the smuggling operations which ran rife in the area in the 18th century. The town was an important node in cross-Channel trade and became affiliated with the confederation of ‘Cinque Ports’. The present town was assembled on a grid in 1288, after ‘Old’ Winchelsea was abandoned to the sea – its name plausibly deriving from language for the marshland (‘qwent’) and the beach (‘chesil’).
Rye, East Sussex, England
Image Credit: Shutterstock
I watched Peter walk eastwards for Rye, which sits on a ridge above the intervening marshland. Rye is a substantially larger town with impressive historic remains. Its photogenic streets climb from venerable inns towards the Citadel, which contains St Mary’s Church, whose origins are Norman, and Ypres Tower, built to protect Rye and its harbour from later French raiders.
I chose to wait in Winchelsea a little longer. I ate lunch while looking over its striking, half-ruined church and contemplating the extensive wine cellars which run under the town. The sun was still high, and on Winchelsea’s Beacon Hill I dropped my bag by the remains of a mill destroyed by the Great Storm of 1987, which was once also the site of a Saxon church. I looked over the way I had come, at how the Weald comes to kneel at the sea. Then I lay with my back on the old mill stone, my mind alive to the tales I had gathered over the past two days.
