On the eastern edge of Seaford, a “B” road branches left off the A259, dips, then climbs steadily up the flank of the chalk ridge that ends in Seaford’s precipitous South Cliff. At the top of the ridge, at High and Over, suddenly, unexpectedly, the land falls away. In front is a cleft in the South Downs, six hundred feet deep, a mile wide and four miles long. This is the gap through which the River Cuckmere meanders to the sea. Beyond it the hills rise and fold away eastward, almost voluptuous in their curves.

The road drops and twists down the steep slope. At the bottom with a final sharp turn to the left, it enters a High Street lined by ancient buildings, behind which, to the right, lies a pleasant village green – called a Type in this part of East Sussex, and a church, surprisingly large and dignified for a small village. This is Alfriston, now a dormitory for towns such as Brighton and Eastbourne, and a tourist trap, two centuries ago a village where people lived alongside their work. Here Richard Lower was born on September 19^th, 1782.

Lowers had lived in Alfriston at least since 1547 when one, Thomas Lowre (sic) married Joan Witcar in the parish church on November 27^th. At some time before that their ancestors had almost certainly migrated eastwards from Cornwall; but this cannot be proved from the historical records at present available and perhaps never will be, despite tantalizing clues that point inconclusively in various directions. “Lower” is not now even a very common surname in Sussex, where it is more common that anywhere else, and the early Lowers were almost certainly his kinsfolk, but his direct ancestry cannot be traced back with certainty any further back than November 18^th, 1703.

The was the Night of the Great Storm, an event long remembered through Southern England: when the Eddystone lighthouse was washed away; when in Wells, Bishop Kidder and his wife were killed in their bed by crashing chimneys; when houses were untiled at Midhurst, chimneys brought down at Cowdray, the church steeple at Osborn toppled by the wind and the market-house at New Shoreham flattened. That night Brightelmstone (Brighton) lost a dozen men and ships and itself suffered much damage. Next morning hedgerow twigs as far inland as Ticehurst tasted of salt and on the Downs around Lewes the sheep would not eat the salt-covered grass for a week, until driven to it by hunger. During that terrible storm the wind drove the flood tide so far up the Cuckmere Valley that at Berwick, up-river from Alfriston, the miller and his mate were driven back by sheets of water when they tried to secure their mill against damage. As they strove, a mile or so away Richard’s great-grandmother gave birth to his grandfather, Henry Lower.