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#HE LITERALLY BROUGHT UP MARRIAGE TO THE MC DURING THE BATHING SCENE COME ON!!!
apricotronin · 10 months
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fadingtigerkid · 5 years
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Fake News and Celebrity Culture
*
The Double life of Romney Bay House
  Fake news, celebrities, and spaceships are no longer a particularly newsworth phenomenon, they have all been around for a very long time.  But Marshians? Well that’s an entirely different matter!
  Romney Bay House c1950
Science fiction sells, but bad news sells even better, thus it has earned its keep over the decades from the time that ‘News‘ itself was first coined as a product, by merchants of the C15th.  In times of doubt and hesitation ‘new’ and ‘worthy’ information from the north, east, west and south brought in that extra bit of revenue, through facts that were in circulating aiding their affairs.  Since then bad news has become more of a weapon to contend with, a mischief that affects more than just economics, politics, and the fear of things invading us from out of space.  In recent years “faux facts” have gathered pace, and the internet offers an ever more powerful platform upon which this type of fictional reporting can be circulated, in this regard celebrity culture lends a very powerful hand.
On this basis, and a number of decades ago now, it came to the attention of the older generation of my family that an infuriating little bugbear of a “faux fact” was being circulated in a pamphlet, by a hotel on the east coast in Kent.  That hotel had formerly been the holiday home of my great-grandmother Margaret Ethel Bray (nee Barwick 1873 – 1950), one which she had built for herself and her family during the 1920’s.  This special seaside family home, once tagged as the ‘Mustard Pot’ owing to its Sandstone yellow colour, is an icon to that era, and it earned its acclaim through the ‘real’ fact that it had been designed by the celebrated British architect; Sir Bertram Clough Williams–Ellis, CBE, MC (28 May 1883 – 9 April 1978), the man who famously built the Italiante style village of Portmeirion in Wales in the very same decade.
The C1920’s was a period of design when Sir Edwin Lutyens (1869 – 1944) and Frank Lloyd-Wright (1867 – 1959) were the leaders in their field, the granddaddies if you like, of C20th architecture. Lutyens had embraced the Arts & Crafts movement in England, whilst Lloyd-Wright became the creator of ‘The Prairie School Movement’ in north America, a celebrated modernist who liked clean lines and organic form. Williams-Ellis was the younger of these men by two decades, but nevertheless he followed their mantra, sharing their beliefs about structures; that these should be created in harmony with humanity, as well as with the environment. The scene of that day would be set with the evolution of the Art Deco movement, it had begun in Paris in 1925, first referred to as the ‘Style Modern’, and it would greatly impact on the period within which Romney Bay House was conceived.  Elements of this new style would influence Williams-Ellis, in his more classical design, which would therefore incorporate aspects of modernism, along with that which was termed Vernacular; based in other words on local needs.  Today the house is considerably altered from the time of its first construction, but it is still a gem, and will shortly reach its centenary, described by some as a fading beauty, and as a Grande Dame of its day.  But it is not my great grandmother who has been credited with its creation, instead a celebrity has been put in her place; the infamous Hollywood gossip columnist Hedda Hopper (1885 – 1966).
    In considering the misdeed of this particular “faux fact”, attributing architectural heritage of some relevance from the intermediate years between two wars, to an intruder from Beverley Hills, one can claim to feel much like a jilted lover; suddenly finding that one is party to a bigamist marriage! And although my great-grandmother would not become a celebrated figure like Hedda Hopper, her story is an interesting one, in addition she survived life through two wars as the wife of an army officer, who would then leave her and her children afterwards, but despite this she achieved something with regard to her dignity, and as a single woman, by building a landmark, at a time when money was short and employment was wanting. This show of independence amongst women of that day should be one that earns a certain admiration, a far cry from a poisonous pen!  The injustice she is therefore dealt discredits her, to say the least; it is also a libel of fact! But instead of indulging these feelings of rebuke, perhaps one should consider an alternative perspective; take a look at the bright side, and consider the soul of that house instead, viewing things from a different angle. Here we can indulge in its evolution, together with that myth of celebrity for what it is worth, and consider it as further determining the story, for the “Mustard Pot” is uniquely situated within a small corner of England, and one that for some has come to be known as The Fifth Continent.  It is in an area of land with its own particular coastline, one which became notorious at the turn of the C19th, both as an ideal spot for bathing and for landing a spacecraft; an unusual kind of sphere, having returned after taking the first men to the moon, and yes, in this you would be correct in assuming there is a great deal more fiction than fact.
As far as Hopper is concerned she herself is not a fictitious character.  She was indeed an author of sorts (all be it one with a ghost writer – who was renowned for being unable to spell) ‘infamous’ for being a wrecker of more than one Hollywood career and marriage, through the engrossing power of her unscrupulous pen; a weapon that spoke not of legends in the true sense of the word, but of clandestine affairs’ amongst C20th screen idols, goddesses and celebrities.  The lovers Ingrid Bergman and Roberto Rossellini were her most notable conquests.  The actor Bob Hope once described Hopper’s column as “the first thing we looked at every morning in order to see what was going on,” but Joseph Cotton on the other hand, who famously featured in Orson Wells film ‘Citizen Kane’ was known to be far more resentful.  At a star studded dinner in a Beverley Hills Hotel, Cotton walked up to Hopper as she was about to sit down, and pulled the chair right out from underneath her, his words were: “I’ll kick your ass, if you ever write anything about me again!”  The ‘Femme Fatale’ Joan Bennett was also known for having feelings of wrath towards Hopper, she famously sent her a skunk on Valentines Day. Hopper was a ‘bitch’ with style! But despite all this it would seem however that she did have a fan in Kent, and such was the case that with many years passing from the time of that first pamphlet being circulated, the myth about her building a holiday home in Kent had eventually morphed into hard fact.  It was as if Hedda Hopper had mysteriously arisen from the grave, and with all her “pen” venom and allure, had once again spread gossip that would be the cause of offence; a PR stunt perhaps, designed with motives of promotion, in a period where negative publicity has become the new positive.
***
The Fifth Continent wherein The Mustard Pot exists for real is a land in which dreams and fairy tales are made, and indeed they were made up by an eccentric C19th Reverend from Kent. He was perhaps more literary genius than the imaginary builder of Romney Bay House, even though his stories had also been serialised like hers in the column of a magazine. Here was a man called Richard Harris Barham (1788 – 1845), an English humourist and member of the clergy, who had evidently found that he had far too much time on his hands, so rather than dealing with tittle-tattle like Hopper, Barham used his considerable talent at storytelling instead.  In this respect he was better known by his pen name of ‘Thomas Ingoldsby of Tappington Manor’, and so armed with his Nom-de-plum he set about writing a series of grotesque ‘metrical’ tales that became known as the Ingoldsby Legends; a popular collection of myths and ghost stories that included poetry, and which the most famous of all was ‘The Leech of Folkestone’.  In this tale we discover that “The World, according to the best geographers, is divided into Europe, Asia, Africa, America, and Romney Marsh.”  Hence the reason that Romney Bay House is known to be situated in a unique corner of England, within a continent all of its own, and of course one in which the people who live there must obviously be known as Marsh-ions.
“The World, according to the best geographers, is divided into Europe, Asia, Africa, America, and Romney Marsh. In this, and fifth, quarter of the globe, a Witch may still be occasionally discovered in favourable, i. e. stormy, seasons, weathering Dungeness Point in an eggshell, or careering on her broomstick over Dymchurch wall. A cow may yet be sometimes seen galloping like mad, with tail erect, and an old pair of breeches on her horns, an unerring guide to the door of the crone whose magic arts have drained her udder. I do not, however, remember to have heard that any Conjurer has of late been detected in the district………”
extract from Mrs. Botherby’s Story – The Leech of Folkestone.
Up until Ingoldsby had upgraded Romney Marsh into something of an agrandized and legendary land, one wherein a witch might occasionally be found, that marshland had been one of no particular interest to anyone, other than of course the wild things that grew there and the sheep that grazed upon it. Strangely, and maybe by no coincidence, those sheep were not ordinary beings, and as such they became one of the most successful and important breeds in the world, yes I mean literally in the whole wide world!  Mostly this was because of their ability to feed in wet marshy situations, and survive the inevitable foot rot that would ordinarily be the detriment of other breeds, as well as the internal parasites too. As a consequence of this curious immunity, in the C19th the land would become dominated by a sheep stock greater in density than anywhere else on the planet, or within any continent either. These miraculous sheep would therefore be selectively hand-picked and then shipped overseas wordwide, to other destinations of wet and marshy land, in order to strengthen the native breeds.
Conflict……
  Exposed as it was that recondite land of dreams and reverie was also one that was vulnerable, owing mostly to it position on a limb that juts out awkwardly at the ankle of England. It was at one time a bit too close to the ‘Holy Roman Empire’ for comfort, and more importantly to that bit called the ‘French First Republic’!  Several Martello towers would be erected for its protection during the Napoleonic era, a time when the British government lead by a young William Pitt would consider opening the Romney Marsh sluice gates, to deliberately flood the land; a means of “defence strategy”, the intention being to discouraging troops from landing there, and using it as a bridgehead. In substitute one of Kent’s most fascinating landmarks would be established instead; the Royal Military Canal that would run between Folkestone and Rye, a hand dug device driven by the fear that Napolean would eventually succeed in his desire to plant the Imperial Eagle on the Tower of London.  Curiously that two headed Eagle had managed to sneak its way upon a Coat of Arms belonging to the family of Margaret Bray’s husband, perhaps an uncomfortable truth lurked there?  But of course Napolean never did come near to conquering Britain, and when the canal was eventually finished in 1809 it ended up as a costly embarassment, meanwhile the marshland continued unabated as if everything was perfectly normal; nature had cloaked it with powers of its own.
In 1804 it had been John Rennie (1761 – 1821) that renowned engineer of bridges, docks and canals that would be appointed as consultant to the military canal project, he would be abruptly dismissed a year later, after only a six miles section of the main channel had been dug.  It was the hard winter with frost, flooding and shortage of labour that would be blamed. So when the canal was eventually finished five years later, the threat of invastion had already passed, as Napolean had needed to set his sights elsewhere in Europe, he would never come to rule Britain or her waves, or even come near to Romney Marsh, its spirit was inconspicuous but discreet in averting.  During the First World War the same idea of flooding that marshland would once again be considered, this time in defence against the Germans, but it never took place, then again in the Second World War too when that coastline would become useful in 1944 for launching the D-Day landings.  But the marshland would continue as undaunted as always, cloaked in her protective veil, and her wildlife would escape the turmoil as if all was just a big to-do!  At that time a portable temporary construction, known as a Mulberry Harbour would be launched from the other side of the channel, a military device designed by the British to sink or float, for quickly off-loading cargo during action.  A section of it is still visible on a good day at low tide from Romney Bay, a relic of the past. But before either of these later military conflicts would add their affray to its history, that area of coastline which offers miles of unadulterated sandy beach at low tide, had come to be the ideal spot for the author H. G. Wells to land a spacecraft in his novel The First Men in the Moon (1901).  As second in line to Gothic novelist Mary Shelley (who invented Frankenstein), Wells is the celebrated grandaddy of the Science Fiction literary genre; the pioneer of extraterrestial life, and although his spacecraft is now a very real and plausible vehicle, back in those days long past, the Wright Brother were only just testing their first bi-plane prototypes.
So after this feast of beguiling but bygone years with its triumphs and tribulations of war, let us fast forward to the present day.  Let us now turn our attention to the C21st, and to Hedda Hopper’s association with Kent.  Curiosity surrounds that ‘fantasy fact’ that she had built and then lived at Romney Bay House, to the extent that this had now escalated into print (The Rough Guide to Kent, Sussex and Surrey by Samantha Cook and Claire Saunders – “presiding alone over the lonesome shingle like a fading Grande Dame”), in fact it has been variously written up, as well as being included in local guide-books and the like, even a photography courses offers the opportunity to ‘photograph’ where the star once lived. The association of the house with the celebrity gossip columnist had even become a ‘factual’ source on Wikipedia too, as well as heaven forbid within the RIBA image library itself, where her name had come to grace data on the house at the heartbeat of British architecture!  So let us now consider the truth of this ‘Hopper’ in greater depth, exactly who was this celebrity ‘Hollywood Gal’, and why should she be chosen to doppelgang my formidable and trendsetting Great Grandmother?
***
Hedda versus Margaret….
  Mystery Train (1931)
  Hedda Hopper first rose to fame as an American screen goddess in the early decades of the C20th.  She was born and raised in the town of Hollydaysburg in Pennsylvania, baptized as Elda Furry, and of parents who had been strict members of the German Baptist Brethren. The Furry family were certainly in the right place as far as non-conformism and Pennsylvania was concerned, this was a protestant dissenter state founded by William Penn, one of England’s foremost and earliest Quaker’s, a renegade of the Orthodox Church of England.  Penn had wanted to create a safe haven for his fellow worshippers; refugees that needed to escape from persecution in his home town of Bristol at the end of the C17th.  It was a period after the Commonwealth had collapsed, when the Monarchy of England had just been restored, money was short and Charles II owed a large debt to the Penn family; a bargaining tool therefore to put things in place.  But lets not get too carried away with all this, as the Furry family had originally been of Dutch-German descent.
Young Elda’s acting career began after she had become tired of being tucked away in a north American backwater, in the puritanical home of her religious parents, in which there were eight other children to think of.  She had studied singing during her high school years, and had developed dreams of pursuing a career in musical theater, but her parents were firmly against it, thus she made plans to abscond, running away to the bright lights and the big city of New York.  On arrival she found work on Broadway in the chorus of an opera company.  Once she had establishing a job within theater, and being ambitious as she was, she was then able to up her game.  In 1908 she managed to get a part in a musical comedy called “The Pied Piper,” where she joined the company of an actor called William D’Wolf Hopper, and they would performed together again in “A Matinee Idol” in 1911.  Hedda had met the man she would later marry.
William Hopper (1858 – 1935) was a well established American actor, singer, comedian, and theatrical producer, referred to as Willie at the start of his career.  He then became known as Will, and then finally as Wolfie!  But on a professional level he always preferred to be known by his more scarey name of DeWolf.  So Elda would marry her husband Wolfie in 1913, thereby taking on the Hopper surname, but all was not yet complete. Wolfie had already been through four previous wives by the time she had met him, all with similar Christian names to Elda; Ella, Ida, Edna and Nella, and this meant that with slightest slip of the tongue Wolfie would have her mistaken for one of her predecessors. So, it would be on this stumbling block that a plan would be hatched to change her name even further, so after employing a numerologist ‘Hedda’ would be conceived, as a means to avoid further insult and injury.  From that time forward the actress Hedda Hopper came into being for real, and the Quaker born Elda Furry would vanish for ever.
***
And so to Margaret…
  Portrait of Margaret Ethel Bray (nee Barwick) in her debutant attire at the time of her ‘Presentation to the Queen’ in 1894
  Margaret Barwick as a child (left), with her sister Edith (centre) and brother John on the Durham heritage coast
  Margaret was born in the month of June 1873 in the city of Sunderland, Durham as Margaret Ethel Barwick, and she was by contrast to Hedda Hopper her almost exact opposite, in everything other than their apparent love of extravagant and ornate hats!
Having been raised in the Tyne & Wear of northern England on the opposite side of the Atlantic, Margaret would not only come from a different country, but by being some twelve year’s older than her American counterpart, she would also belong to an entirely different generation.  So these two women not only came from lands poles apart, but alternative walks of life, and vintages too.  As far as Margaret was concerned C19th women from her background were subjects of an elitest society, one driven by empire, and then by war in Europe.  It was an age of paternalism and patronage, with the expectation that a woman’s roll was to be that of a wife and mother, devoted to family duty and housekeeping; to be seen as the angel in the home, and only a few women would escape this ordeal. Prior to the Victorian era women had enjoyed a little more by way of rights, but with the passing of the Reform Act in 1832 specifyied that ‘male persons’ only would be able to vote, ‘outrage’ would become their goal to pursue. Men controlled the land, even that belonging to their wives, and all of finance too, very few women would therefore be able to make it into the intelluctual world, and those few would have a pretty rough ride.  The Suffrage Movement would begin in 1848 as a consequence, and so by the time Margaret herself had reached her coming of age, almost half a century later in 1894, things would still be relatively unchanged; only a Local Government Act had been passed allowing single woman rate payers to vote in local elections.  This system of society and governance would continue on for many years to come.
Margaret’s parents were not staunch Christians like the Furries, and they were by no means high-church followers either, they certainly weren’t Quakers or for that matter any other form of dissenter, they were just ‘gentiley’ religious in what was considered apropriate in England for that day. As for running away with a desire to make a living in theatre, there would be no need for Margaret to do that, although she did have a sense about her rights.  In truth her parents would be able afford for her to have most things that she wanted, and that would include a position in high society, and in her day this would help to alleviating to some extent the injustice toward her sex.  Had she wished to work then most likely she would have been prevented, and without womens rights in the workplace who would want to anyway.  However, Margaret and her siblings did by all accounts enjoy playing at theatre, dressing up in fancy dress costume, and participating in various roll playing accordingly.
  Margaret Barwick in theatre costume c1885
Margaret (centre) playing cards with her siblings at Ashbrooke Grange
  By contrasting Hedda Hopper’s chorus line debut on Broadway, Margaret’s would be a more sober affair, that of being a “debutant” at her coming of age. She would then have had the pleasure of being ‘presented’ to an elderly Queen Victoria, and this would be a premier performance of sorts. It would set the stage for her upon entering into society as a young lady, but more importantly it would be a means of courting the marriage market. Margaret’s father was an ambitious man, and both her parents would have been keen to make a good alliance for her, one with similar folk of an industrious nature, benefitting their daughter as well as the family overall.  I dare say that the novelty of Hedda’s adventures might well have seemed exciting to the young Sunderland heiress in her earlier years, had she been the younger of the two and not from an earlier decade, inspired by day dreams of all that might entice her on the other side of the world. However, the reality for Margaret would be a fate somewhat different to that of her so called imposter, especially by the time she would come to build and own a seaside home for holidaying in Kent. That would be many years after her coming of age, but it would be just two years before that the Conservative goverment in Britain would make a start at unfastening the female straight jacked. In 1928 when Margaret had reach 55 years the Representation Of The People Act would be passed, and this would mean that the vote had at last been given to all women over the age of twenty-one, and on equal terms with men, but it had taken two lengthy wars in which many lay dead, including her two step-sons.  Nevertheless the age of female recognition had arrived at last, and alongside the inauguration of her Romney Bay seaside house.
***
Durham in the C19th…..
The Kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed planted in a field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but it becomes the largest of garden plants; it grows into a tree, and birds come and make nests in its branches.
Despite the chilling politics of the day, and the damp cold north-eastern climate of England, the Barwick family home where Margaret grew up would at least have been one that was warm, although it would have been a far cry from the hot hummid summers on the east coast of America, with its lush golden autumn colours, and deep swathes of white winter snowfall. At that period of British history freshly mined coal would have been more than abundant in Sunderland, ready for filling the hearths and fireplaces of the large family home at Ashbrooke Grange in the city, as well as their country estate of Thimbleton Hall, set high on the North Yorkshire moors. Margaret’s father had been a man of shrewd and considerable talent; Sir John Storey Barwick (1840 – 1915) was not just a skilled entrepreneur of industry in the C19th, he was widely regarded in his day as one of the commercial magnates of the north.
Sir John Storey Barwick
  Great things come from humble beginnings, and the sewing of a mustard seed can thus be seen to be the subject of both an allegory and synonym, because it is one of the tiniest seeds, from which can grow an immense tree. As such it has been symbolic within mythical tales and philosophy; the Egyptian King Tut had these seeds thrown into his sarcophagus after his death; whilst German brides have traditionally had them sewn into their wedding dresses. Where this story is concerned, the mustard seed can be seen to be the kernel from which Margaret’s house ‘The Mustard Pot’ would sprout, as that seed would be sewn through her father John’s determination then prosperity, both of which he would pass on to her.
John spent much of his early life in Sunderland, he grew up in the area of Bishopswearmouth and was educated in the city.  He was the son of a local farmer and landowner, so he came from an agrarian lifestyle, a more humbler beginning to that of his off-spring.  Then through hard work and ingenuity he made his way up the ladder of industry, eventually to becoming the owner of his own coal-mine and quarry, at a time when the value of that commodity meant it was considered to be more a form of raw diamond than black rock! The various coal mines he had a hand in would supply industry at a point in time when Britain was an imperialist power; an Empire that ruled the world, and that empire had ships that sailed into every port of the globe using coal as their driving force.  At the turn of the century Britain was still on the rise toward its pinnacle, an economic climate wherein transportation would be seen as the crucial element and Barwick had a finger in every pie, including an interest in shipping, it would mean that he would be eligible for the hand in marriage to the daughter of a Tyne & Wear shipbuilder, a man called George Short (1815 – 1863), founder of a company that built liners for cargo such as coal, and later for passengers.
    For the climb to the top John Storey Barwick began as a fitter within the Ryhope Coal Company.  Having then established his worth, he would work his way up further, through the various layers of management, demonstrating a keen business acumen and style.  This would allow him to go on and become a director within the North Eastern Banking Co.; The Northumberland Steam Shipping Company; The Weardale Steel, Coal and Coke Company; The Cargo Fleet Iron works; The Wingate Coal Company and even more futuristically within the European Petroleum Company.  Eventually he would become one of the largest shareholder in the British transport Company of Furness Withy & Company, founded in 1891 with eighteen ships operating between New York and Newcastle.  The question that begs asking is, how on earth did he find time to squeeze all of this into an already busy work schedule?  But that would not be all!  It was as a result of his keen sense of business and ingenuity that he would then be invited to become a member on the board of the North East Railway Company, a useful position to be in for the transportation of coal.  And so on this basis and in 1899 John Barwick together with his business partner Christopher Furness, 1st Baron Furness, would jointly found the Easington Coal Company; a private enterprise at the onset, that would go on to develop a virgin coalfield on the east coast between Hartlepool and Seaham.  In more recent times that mine has become famed under the pseudonym of “Everington” screened as a musical and theatrical productions of Billy Elliot (2000). Hedda would surely have approved!  The North East Railway would play a critical roll in that mine, and when the first pits of Easington were sunk in 1899, thousands of workers would come to live in the area. They came from all parts of Britain, bringing new life and a new community with them that would endure for a century to come. Shops would spring up, along with pubs, clubs and cinemas, amongst row after row of terraced housing.  All of this had been motivated with Furness and Barwick acting at the helm.
The heyday for the Durham Collieries would be in 1913, a ten years gap after the first sods of the Easington Colliery had been cut for the quarry.  By the time of its peak there would be 304 pits in the overall area, as well as 166,000 miners all with jobs, and producing 41,400,000 tons of coal. The first of Easington’s black combustible diamond like rock would not be drawn until the year 1910, when coal of a high grade would finally be able to be excavated.  Then in 1912 the first coal would be shipped from Seaham, and the railway station would open its doors to passengers for business. It was a point at which new shareholders would become necessary to further increase the companies overall capital; perfect timing by Barwick and Furness in terms of the Easington timetable.  It was this ripe judgement that would encourage those with the means to invest to get involved by parting with their cash, and putting it into a sound investment. Of course the mine would become nationalised much later on after the second world war in 1947, its founders long dead underground. Then in 1951 disaster would strike, and 83 miners would lose their lives.  Much later on in 1984 the miners strike would hit the colliery, lasting for all of a year, and then finally the last coal would be drawn in 1993.  A century had past, a hundred years of enterprise, of engineering and of hard labour.  Coal had had its day, and oil would take its place.
Pit Cage Monument of Easington Colliery; a relic of days gone by
Long before Easington had been conceived, the north eastern alliance between the Barwick and Short families would bring into being a new generation of children.  Their brood would consist of four girls and two boys, of whom Margaret would be the eldest, and they would be fortunate enough in their early lives to be raised mostly in the lap of luxury, wanting for nothing….. except perhaps their freedom!  And so from this platform, and as her adult years hailed into view, a parallel can now be drawn between the lives of Margaret Barwick and Elda Furry.  By the year 1895 and having reaching the age of twenty-two, Margaret had begun to tire of living at her family home, and so she looked around for a form of escape.  Home life had developed a climate that was perhaps a little too dedicated to her two younger brothers, and those two young lives dominated the family scene, as they would eventually inherit the show.  But thrown into this were also the needs of three younger sisters, and their mother was by then beginning to slowly deteriorate through a heart condition.  Like other young women of her age, Margaret was keen to begin her own adventure, and the idea of taking flight began to take precedence over all her other thoughts; surely there must be a another world out there beyond family territory?  In the event she was ‘saved,’ or at least so she thought, by the arrival into her life of a dashing army officer, and one who was commissioned in the Royal Berkshire Regiment that were stationed near to her home in Sunderland.
Reginald Edward Traherne Bray
Margaret was spellbound!  Was it the military pomp, or perhaps just a man in uniform, and one who had come from a staunch military family, well-known for their valour. Reginald Edward Traherne Bray was undeniably handsome, fair haired with fine features, and he was the son of a Major-General who had been in command of the same regiment. Reginald was like Margaret the eldest of a large family of three sister, and four brothers who were all in military service too, but he was some thirteen years older than his would be bride, and had already lost one wife, who had recently passed away in childbirth, leaving him alone as a widower with two young infants under the age of three.  But as far as Margaret was concerned life with Reginald presented a welcome challenge, an adventure with travel, and an altogether new beginning away from sibling rivalry.  Little did she know what the future would bring hold, and so she now entered into this new world, as the angel in the home.  As such she not only became a wife but a step-mother too and within the confines of army life, where conditions would have been somewhat different to those she had grown used to. Two years later in 1897 her first child Peggy would be born, and then with the arrival of two further children; Winifred and John, three and six years younger, by the time of 1903 Margaret had completed her family.
……A few thousand miles away on the other side of the North Atlantic Elda Furry would be making plans of her own, also to abscond to freedom!  Her mission was to seek out the opposite end of the spectrum to that of a military lifestyle; establishing her independence in her first theatrical roll in the city of New York.
  Margaret Bray with her first child Peggy in 1897
  Oh for the love of fun, but perhaps not the trouble that it gets one into!  Clearly Reginald loved soldiering, and perhaps more than he did his wife, as well as everything else to do with the military.  Coupled with a perhaps somewhat shy disposition, he was not geared up for the kind of serious socialising that Margaret would probably have liked to participate in.  Disagreements would begin to take shape between these two opposite characters quite early on in their marriage, and of course he most probably missed the love of his first wife. Was he a cad and a bounder? Or perhaps just someone who fell into a tub of butter, and then couldn’t bear to get out.  Either way Margaret was of course quite the lady; stalwart and headstrong, determined like her father and a force to contend with. She had a good intellect with a mind of her own, and was not about to give up the fight!  So life continued a pace with military precision, and a posting to Fort William in South Africa took the couple overseas after the birth of their first daughter, where upholding of the British Empire mattered more than just marriage. But gradually the strict rigours of regimental life, and her husband disposition would begin to take its toll, within a society geared toward male power. With war on the horizon the couple would finally separate, arguments had surrounded the use of Margaret’s money, and Reginald’s sons who would leave England for a new life in Canada, would return shortly after in order to enlist.  It would be Reginald who would end up paying the heaviest price.
And So to War….
  Aubrey (left) and George Bray  Soldiers who died in the Great War abt. 1915
  The First World War began in Europe in 1914, and it would be that which would take centre stage in the hearts and minds of an anxious British public, with America taking a neutral position until the year 1917. As far as England was concerned a generation of young men would be annihilated, and so for this country there would be hell to pay. Amongst all this would be Margaret’s two step-sons; George and Aubrey Bray, both on the cusp of their adult lives and aged just 21 and 22, the latter losing his life first in 1916 at the Dorjan front of Greece. George Bray had been a Lieutenant in the same Royal Berkshire regiment as his father, where British troops were part of a multi-national Allied force fighting in the Balkans. At the beginning of August 1916 three French and one British division launched an offensive against the Bulgarian position, attacking on the 9th August with heavy artillery fire, the battle would continue with a series of attacks until the 18th August, when they were eventually forced to retreat with heavy casulaties. George would be one, who would die from his wounds.  He is buried at the war cemetry in Kasouli.
………Over on the other side of the Atlantic Hedda Hopper would be busy elevating her professional life, she had moved into silent movies, joining Samuel Goldwyn’s film company in Fort Lee, New Jersey.  Her first roll was performing in The Battle of Hearts in 1916, a very different kind of battle from the one George had died in. This would be followed by four more titles the following year. Hedda may have found a degree of success, but she had not yet fallen into that vat of butter, and conditions within the dressing rooms and offices of Goldwyn were said to be poor, being within an abandoned barn with no ceiling, and on top of this the work was said to be long hours and sometimes very trying. But Hedda, like Margaret, was a very determined lady.
Back in Europe George’s younger brother Aubrey would follow him into the grave, dying of his wounds in the Battle of the Somme in 1918.  Aubrey would receive the ‘Military Cross’ for his bravery post-humorously, a hero from a different kind of ‘theater’ to that of Broadway.  Things would never be the same again in Britain, or for Margaret and her inconsolable husband Reginald, whose own war had finished early due to illness.  He now sought solace in the arms of a young and devoted housekeeper, one with lower aspirations to that of his wealthy wife.  Reginald’s three other children would barely ever set eyes on their father again, and he would retreat into the Devon countryside, while their mother would make a home in London, eventually setting her sights on Kent.
When war in Europe came to a close in 1918, the population of Europe had been considerably lessened, particularly as far as the male sex was concerned.  The chance for a woman to obtain a husband had been somewhat reduced. Many would remain spinsters for the rest of their lives.  But the positive was that the elitest society that had been so partial toward paternalism would now begin to lose out in terms of its corporeality, and things would have to change.  This would mean that women would be allowed to have more by way of rights. Reginald’s young housekeeper would surely have been one of those female casualties, seeking out the opportunity to snap up some male support in the face of all the carnage, and by all accounts Reginald’s lover would also be younger still than his already much younger wife.
…….By the time the 1920’s arrived Hedda would once again be elevating her prospects, by moving to Hollywood with husband Wolfie, and commanding a much more handsome salary; she was becoming known as ‘Queen of the Quickies’ featuring in support roles as a vamp. By 1922 she had performed in more than a dozen movies, but like her British counterpart, Hedda’s marriage was also arriving at a full stop!  She now wanted a divorced from Wolfie, which was granted her in 1923, a couple of years before the plans for Romney Bay House would be draughted out.
In war ravaged Britain there would be no divorce on the cards for Margaret, with a rumour passing down through the family that the British law courts would not grant her such, unless she could prove desertion.  This was something her husband was unwilling to oblige her with.  So without her freedom Margaret would be unable to remarry, and she would have to go it alone for the remainder of her life, which was something she did with style, grace and decorum. Instead she would become resolute in establishing the adult lives of her children, all of whom would become successful citizens, marrying and raising families of their own.  As a consequence of that dedication, in 1923, and at the time of Hedda’s divorce, Margaret’s son John would graduate from Cambridge University, with a BA Honours.  He would then go on to study medicine at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, qualifying as a medic 1929, and becoming a bacteriologist. During the Second World War Dr. John Storey Barwick Bray (1903 – 1985) would be responsible for isolating the ecoli bacteria for Gastroenteritus in children, which then had a high mortality rate.  It was a landmark victory both in its diagnosis and control,’thus all who care for infants owe John Bray a special debt of gratitude for this discovery’.
Margaret Bray with her three children abt. 1910
…..Meanwhile on the other side of the Atlantic Hedda would be upping her game further by becoming a player for Mayer Pictures, later known as Metro Goldwyn Mayer (or MGM as we know it today). By 1924 she had managed to obtain custody of her only son with Wolfie (he woulld become the television investigator known as Perry Mason), and so for the remainder of the 1920’s she would be a pretty busy lady keeping things together, and keeping her show on the road. Whether or not she ever set foot at Romney Bay in Kent during this period would seem somewhat unlikely; and history doesn’t relate.  Up until the 1930’s she had appeared in more than 50 movies, a time when her career as a screen goddess would finally begin to wane. This was the point at which she would look around for another source of income. Maybe a little time over in the Fifth Continent would have been just the very thing? Whatever the case, it would be in 1935 that Hedda would agree to write for the Washington Herald as their gossip columnist, later she would move over to the Los Angeles Times.  So from that time onward her notoriety as the ‘Queen of gossip’ would take precedence as far as her image would be concerned, and she would thrive in her new roll as that bitch from Beverley Hills.  Hedda did continue to act and she played in dozens of other films right up until the year of her death in 1966, but it would be in her roll as gossip columnist with 35 million readers that she is best remembered, particularly as regards her alleged house in Kent.
***
Appearances can be deceptive….
By the time I the writer became caught up in this saga of a celebrity fairy tale attached to my great-grandmother’s Romney Bay House, my mother and uncle had already been hard on the case!  They were eager to put things to right.  This was not just for the sake of family heritage, but also in virtue of their grandmother with whom they had shared memories, but it would be to no avail.  On becoming a hotel planning permission had been granted to alter the facade of the house, and in addition its history had evidently been altered too.  Photographs of “The Mustard Pot” that had been taken over the years littered our family photograph albums, but in this respect its soul had been hijacked for PR purposes, or so it would seem. The original Classic/Deco-esque facade is now barely recognizable, with its original windows removed and replaced with alternatives, and it has lost something of that distinguished seaside holiday appearance, styled with such care by Clough Williams Ellis. Today extensions adorn either side of the building, somehow belittling it and cheapening its image, the front porch and balcony behind its columns have been filled in with glass, likening it to an office block. Instead of that traditional sunny sandstone colour, which gave the house its nickname The Mustard Pot, stark bright white stares out blindingly from in front of the marshland.  But despite all these alteration, when a picture appeared alongside a written review by the journalist and writer A. A. Gill in his column in the The Sunday Times, I could not be duped. This was a relic of our family heritage, and not an American outpost.
  Adrian A. Gill (1954 – 2016) was once a well-known critic and restaurant reviewer, who for a time was married to the MP The Right Hon. Amber Rudd, until Amber came home one day and found him with another woman, and in bed!  Some celebrity tittle-tattle Hedda would no doubt have loved to have revealed in her newspaper column. Gill had won numerous awards for his writing talent, factual or not, and his very first piece having been published in Tatler magazine, another celebrity area that Hopper would have been delighted to peruse, had she lived within these shores. Notorious and erudite as Gill always was, there was nevertheless an abundance of complaints leveled against this critic to the Press Complaints Commission, and my letter of indignation regarding the truth would have no doubt been small fry by comparison; I anyway never heard back, it was just too unimportant. That was many of years ago now in 1998, and Gill has since sadly passed away, but the myth has continued to garner in strength. Although as I recall he did give rather a good write-up for the then owners of that Hotel business, trading of course on Hopper’s name; a ‘Chinese whisper’ that I doubt Hedda would have sanctioned, as she was at least credited for writing the truth! And when the truth was out, she knew she had made the ultimate score.  So arriving finally at the point we reach the mark of honour endowed upon the house, which comes through its real creator, that being the architect Clough William Ellis. What would he have made of the alterations to his design, the artwork and intended style that he would want attached to his name.
  and so to the creator…..
  Sir Clough Williams Ellis – NPG collection
  Clough Williams Ellis had no personal known links to Kent.  He had been born in Northamptonshire, but like the American architect Frank Lloyd Wright, he considered himself a Welshman, inside and out.  Wales had been the land of his forefathers, and his own family had returned to live there when he was still just a small child. After leaving school Ellis had briefly attended Cambridge University, although he would never complete his degree, instead he decided to attend Architectural school, and this would begin the career that would make him into one of Britain’s more notable architects of the C20th.
By the year 1925 Williams Ellis had reached the mature, but still relatively young age of 42!  He was just completing his Portmeirion project in Wales, designed to encourage tourism in Wales, and described recently in the Telegraph newpaper as “the oddest holiday village on Earth; a dreamlike place, which in spite of its small size, is somehow capable of displacing reality.”  It seems Williams Ellis was unquestionable the right man for the job in terms of building within the Fifth Continent!  At the time he had already come to be regarded as one of the ‘Uncles’ of architecture, a way of observing that he had perhaps not quite yet reached the status of the Grandaddies: Lutyens and Lloyd-Wright, but he had earned respect, and was influential enough to bring about a forward thinking rebellion amongst young and aspiring structural draughtsmen of that day; encouraging them to broaden their influence in terms of style. His view was that these new kids on the block should ‘cherish the past, adorn the present, and construct for the future’, something he would aim to embrace, whilst remaining true to the neoclassical ideal.  On this basis and in 1926 Romney Bay House would be completed, with its final coat of render being applied to the exterior in preparation for that yellow sandstone paint. At the time Britain was in an economic depression, it was a time of deflation when money was short and unemployment high.
    Margaret’s three children:  John (left) Peggy (centre) and Winifred abt. 1924
The Roaring Twenties – Winifred’s husband Alistair MacLeod in his Talbot car
A sense of emotional numbness still lingered around coming to terms with war; one that had finished less than a decade earlier. This was a juncture when many of Britain’s stately mansions would become abandoned, either falling apart through lack of funds, their owners crippled by death duties, or with their heirs wiped out altogether; casualties of the trenches that would never return to claim back their prize. But all of this would have little impact on evolving architecture.  Instead the lack of finance would bring into effect the use of steel frames, and concrete blocks, replacing traditional methods of building, with new materials. Trends were changing, and in 1925 in Paris the International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts would set a new standard introducing the Style Moderne, which would spread to America and England as the Art Deco movement, also bringing in its wake what would become called the ‘International Modern Movement’, defined later but from that same era. This influence would be taken up by Williams Ellis, and aspects of the style would influence the classical lines that Romney Bay House would be built along, giving it square pillars instead of round, and an altogether more minimalist interior, the embracing of simplicity, reflecting the landscape that at first appearance gave a sense of bleakness.
During those inter war years; within the eye of the storm, the tabloid press would be tagging a group of young upper-class rebels, they would famously kick start into action the modern cult of celebrity, which of course this story has its links to.  These attention seeking and flamboyant youths were mostly the off-spring of aristocrats who had been too young to fight, and they would famously become known as “The Bright Young Things”, chased after by the paparzzi for their outrageous behavior.  Partying and treasure hunting around the countryside in fast cars would be their thing, and amongst these would be the later Poet Laureate (from 1972) a man called John Betjamin (1906 – 1984).  He would become a close associate of Clough Williams Ellis, once he had found his role as assistant editor of Architectural Review between the years 1930 – 1935.  It was a time when Hedda Hopper was just beginning to make her mark through her gossip colum on the other side of the Atlantic.  Betjeman and Williams-Ellis would both become keen supporters of the Style Moderne, with views that it might bring a breath of fresh air into the post war depressed architectural scene, a counterblast to the impact of war and conventional taste.  But neither of these men would be prepared for the bad taste that would follow, in terms of “urban sprawl” which was just beginning to creep parasitically across England from the mid ’20’s.  As a consequence of this, Williams-Ellis would become the leader of a resistance movement, and he would become dedicated to this, with Betjamin as his closest ally.  Much later they would be supported by the British architectural critic Ian Nairn (1930 – 1983), who would become the country’s first popular ‘architectural journalist’ in the ’50’s, following his special issue of Architectural Review dedicated to “Outrage” (1955), through which the term ‘Subtopia’ would become coined.  It was all of this that had been the real impact that the numbness of war had brought about, an inability to observe sensitively, coupled with the ugliness of how a nation felt.  Whatever the case Betjamin would later write hiss well known poem “Come Friendly bombs and fall on Slough, it isn’t fit for humans now”, an epic for every child during the ’60’s and ’70’s.  Ian Nairn’s “Outrage” and Betjaman’s poem would however be written some years after Clough Williams Ellis had completed Romney Bay House, as back in those days when the render to its walls was being applied, Betjamin was still studying at Magdalen College, Oxford, being tagged as a rebel!  Like Williams-Ellis he too would leave without his degree.
  First architectural plan for the house and garage.
  In its concept Romney Bay House would come into being through a simple idea that had been dreamed up a year or so before its plans were put on paper. Margaret’s youngest child John had just entered medical school, having been one ‘bright young thing’ that did complete his university degree.  Her two daughters Peggy, and Winifred, had both essentially left home.  Peggy had become married with a small son, and Winifred would be too before long.  A weekend and holiday retreat in a sociable location was thought to be just the thing for her to escape the hum drum of city life, and it would offer a means whereby of entertaining her grandchildren later on, as well as allowing her to enjoy the hot summer months by the seaside with her family, breathing fresher sea air than that of the city.  On this basis Margaret’s only stipulation to William Ellis would be that she wished for it to be in relatively easy reach from her London home, and of course it must be near to a beach.
The aquaintanceship of Margaret with Williams-Ellis began through their close network of friends, then upon initiating him with her plan, he in turn would point her towards Kent.  This would have seemed to be the obvious choice at that period, after all his project in Wales had been geared toward tourism and holidaying too, only in this particular case he had turned toward the east instead of the west.  Evidence indicated that Littlestone-on-sea was fast becoming a fashionable destination, encouraging tourists to visit the east coast, a place where those Bright Young Things might easily get to in their flashy cars, including it perhaps it in those treasure hunts! Williams-Ellis had already earned a reputation for his slightly wacky and eccentric style, one which would have appealed to Margaret’s sense of directive, as she herself had become a follower of the esoteric, inspired by that topical Russian philosopher; Madame Blavatsky (1831 – 1891), the founder of The Theosolphical Society (1875), an unsectarian body of seekers of the truth. Margaret’s mind was open to new ideas and thought provoking influences, and so on this basis both architect and patron would be able to begin thinking forward together, in a new dawn of structural awakening. Their goal would be to cherish the classical, incorporating that altogether new modern style, and thus the “Grande Dame beauty of the 1920’s (as The Rough Guide would have it) would begin to take shape, in defiance of tradition and that wind swept piece of coastline.
Littlestone-on-Sea…….
With the arrival of the 1920’s Littlestone-on-sea underwent its second transformation from being a small gentrified holiday resort, into becoming something of a larger more fashionable place to be seen amongst the rich and famous, or so we are led to believe. The attraction was that it provided safe sea bathing with its long sandy beaches at low tide, that stretched from Greatstone-on-sea in the south well past Romney Bay House.  It was deemed to be not that unlike the Hamptons on the other side of the Atlantic, where perhaps Hopper really did build a holiday home for real.
Littlestone had first become fashionable in the 1880’s when it was first developed, the project had been started by the industrialist Sir Robert Perks (1849 – 1934), an MP for the liberal party, and the name of the village was taken from the headland, which marked the northern entrance to Romney Bay.  The southern end was marked by the Greatstone. Perks had been in partnership with another entrepreneur called Henry Thomas Tubbs, (abt. 1832 -1917), a property tycoon who had made his wealth in the textile manufacturing business, but Tubbs ambition for Littlestone was far bigger than that of Perks, as in addition he was rather keen on golf, and saw the potential of establishing a links on the marshland.  So the village came into being with a small row of smart terraced houses, and a necessary lifeboat station built by Perks, next came a manor house for Tubbs, and that would be built in front of what would become the golf course on the edge of the marshland, with further intention to build a marine parade, and a new stand alone “Grand Hotel” that would have excellent views of the sea, whilst his own house had been strategically placed in order for him to have a prime vista of the golf links. Both these men were firmly Wesleyan Methodists, and so a Methodist Chapel would also be included in their plans, and as a consequence of their religious convictions no alcohol would be allowed at the Golf Club, discouraging the Bright Young Things from becoming members!  Of course the village would have to have its symbol of eccentricity, and this would arrive in the form of a large 120ft high red brick water tower, intended for the supply of water for the expanding population.  But the tower would never become useful for its designated purpose, as it turned out that the water in the vicinity was tainted with salt, instead it became handy as a watch tower during the second world war, then later a folly to make the place, today it has found a use as a house.
Once the initial phase of development was established, Littlestone would find that it had suddenly become the focus of attention through an unusual sort of narrative; as the landing spot for a spacecship returning from the moon, in the science fiction novel The First Men on the Moon (1900), written by the novelist H. G. Wells. who had already established a reputation through a number of other science fiction stories, his ‘War of the Worlds’ (1898) had been such a sensation, that it would become adapted in the ’30’s as a radio drama in America, produced by Orson Wells, and which caused a huge panic amongst a listening audience who thought they had tuned into the real event!  Like the Ingoldsby Legends, The First Men on the Moon would be serialised first in a journal called The Strand Magazine, its storyline centering around its narrator; a protagonist called Mr. Bedford, who has come down from London to get some peace and quiet in the Kent countryside at Lympne, a short way up the coast from Littlestone. His peace gets disturbed by an eccentric and rather weird physicist called Mr. Cavor, who as it turns out has invented a miraculous new material called ‘Cavorite’, which makes the air above it become weightless. Thus a spacecraft is brought into being, and Mr. Bedford joins Mr. Cavor on an adventure to the moon.  He returns alone a little while later to land at the beach of Littlestone in one of the final chapters, having left his companion behind. Relieved to be on earth again, and feeling mighty peckish, he enters into a hotel and eats a monsterous breakfast, only to discover that a local schoolboy has hijacked his sphere….
Of course it could be plausible with this type of ‘fake news’ reporting that the sphere actually did land right outside where Romney Bay House would later be built, and that perhaps the hotel Mr. Bedford entered was none other than Romney Bay House Hotel, in the future, as Wells also invented the Time Machine! Anything is possible in this fifth and final continent.  However, when Strand Magazine published their serialised story in 1900, Romney Bay was nothing more than an area of flat unadulterated sandy beach, behind which was marshland, some sheep and a very fine golf course that had not long been instated. Since that time the area has become a whirlpool of imaginings, and fantastic happenings, amongst which is included this real and very factural story of Margaret Bray, whose father made possible the Easington Colliery and thus the British dance drama of Billy Elliot, as well of course the fairy tale about the gossip columnist Hedda Hopper building her holiday home.
 ***
And so the render dried to the exterior of that fashionable new 1920’s Clough Williams-Ellis styled beach house, followed by its coat of distinctive sandstone yellow paint, giving the idea that the ‘Mustard Pot’ should be its nickname, and that ‘Grande Dame’ of a holiday home would then dazzle those around her poised to take a place in the myth of the Ingoldsby Legends.  The following winter after all was complete a huge storm would pass through Romney Bay, taking away all the newly laid turf alongside the drive at the front of the house, a moment perhaps when the witch from the Fifth Continent swept through with her broomstick! Whatever the case Margaret was not impressed. Her liking for Williams-Ellis was momentarily shaded, for introducing her to such a wild and tempestuous land. But these feelings did not last for very long, they would be swept away much like the turf with the arrival of summer and the holidaying season.  Shortly afterwards that the problem would anyway be solved with the building of the sea wall, keeping out the waves and Margaret safely within her beautiful home.  And so from the moment of her first summer there, she would begin to enjoy a life that could be shared with her children and grandchildren, despite the blustery breeze and occasional storm. My uncle vividly recalls as a child his fascination with the sound of the voice of a famous opera singer who had lived not far away, in one of the two houses further down the beach “as she measured her fine voice warbling against the wind” practising her arias. Both he and my mother who were born in the ’30’s and would learn to take their first swimming strokes in the bay as water babies in the safety of that haven, looking toward their bright futures, and real space ships landing later on the moon.  Little did they know that toward the end of the decade another war would follow, and with that the fashionability of Littlestone resort would once again fade into obscurity.  But it mattered not in the least to them, as this was the land where dreams can be made, and the house has remained true in providing them and a haven of happiness for all who live or stay there, surrounded by its veil of protection.
    Margaret finally passed away in 1950 at the age of 76 and her Romney Bay House would be passed on to her three children, who would keep it as a holiday home for a number of years, as long as it was practical to do so.  Eventually the time came to let go…….  and so it would then pass out of family hands, in order to begin a new relationship with another participant in its story.  This would bring about the start a whole new history, with an entirely different facade!  It had begun in the Roaring Twenties, but its new occupaints would hail in the start of the Swinging ‘60’s, the point at which it would take take on a whole new soul.
  N.B  This history of Romney Bay House has been written in dedication to Margaret Bray’s memory, by one of her eleven great-grandchildren.  Today Margaret has achieved a generation of nineteen great-great grandchildren, and in addition her first great-great-great grandchild will shortly be born, bring to a close the first centenary of her seaside home.  How that mustard seed had grown! 
        Richard Harris Barham, https://www.bartleby.com/library/prose/579.html
https://www.historic-uk.com/CultureUK/Bright-Young-Things/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bright_young_things
https://adc.bmj.com/content/archdischild/48/12/923.full.pdf, ArchivesofDiseaseinChildhood,1973,48,923., Bray’s discovery of pathogenic Esch.coliasa cause of infantile gastroenteritis
  https://www.architectural-review.com/today/part-two-british-architecture-after-the-great-war/8674259.article
https://www.walesonline.co.uk/lifestyle/nostalgia/welsh-history-month-sir-clough-10228462
The Growth and Dissolution of a Large-Scale Business Enterprise: The Furness Interest, 1892–1919 By Gordon Boyce. P. 173 P.279, P.286
The Rough Guide to Kent, Sussex and Surrey, By Samantha Cook, Claire Saunders
      The Double life of Romney Bay House Fake News and Celebrity Culture * The Double life of Romney Bay House Fake news, celebrities, and spaceships are no longer a particularly newsworth phenomenon, they have all been around for a very long time.  
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