b. 13 March 1834 d. 22 January 1903
(c) Jon S. Page
The grave is situated in the graveyard of the
Parish Church of All Saints, Herstmonceaux in the Diocese of
Chichester about 7 miles north-east of Brighton, UK. All Saints
is a few miles outside the village.
Once in the churchyard, on the north side of
the church, about 10 yards from the outer wall of the north
transept, beneath a small tree you will find a very understated
stone - the legend reads:
AUGUSTUS JOHN CUTHBERT HARE
Born at Rome, March 13, 1834
Died at Holmhurst, January 22,
1903
Rex tremendae majestatis,
qui salvandos salvas gratis,
salva me, fons pietatis.
Quaerens me, sedisti lassus:
redemisti crucem passus:
tantus labor non sit cassus.
Next to Augustus' headstone is
that of the person whom he had regarded as his mother (actually
his aunt by marriage - see 'The Story of My Life, Chapter 2, Childhood), Maria Hare (nee Leycester) and just behind is the
grave of his childhood nanny, Mary Lea Gidman. Also buried nearby
beneath a large yew tree are his two uncles, Julius Charles Hare
(Rector of Herstmonceaux, later Archdeacon of Lewes) and Marcus
Theodore Hare.
The grave has a very pleasant
aspect, looking out, as it does, over the rolling fields of
Pevensey Levels, a fact that pleased Augustus John Cuthbert when
he laid his 'mother' to rest.
(c) Jon S. Page
Inside the small parish church
there are several plaques dedicated to the Hare family. The Hares
were rectors of All Saints, Herstmonceaux from 1772 until 1855.
(c) Joe Lomax (with thanks)
From 'The Story of My Life', Chapter 2, Boyhood
. . . .my mother gave in to a suggestion of Aunt Esther that I should be locked into the vestry of the church between the services. Miserable indeed were the three hours which - provided with a sandwich for dinner - I had weekly to spend there; and though I did not expect to see ghosts, the utter isolation of Hurstmonceaux Church, far away from all haunts of men, gave my imprisonment an unusual eeriness. Sometimes I used to clamber over the tomb of the Lords Dacre, which rises like a screen against one side of the vestry, and be stricken with vague terrors by the two grim white figures lying upon it in the silent desolation, in which the scamper of a rat across the floor seemed to make a noise like a whirlwind. At that time two grinning skulls (of the founder and foundress of the church, it was believed) lay on the ledge of the tomb; but soon after this Uncle Julius and Aunt Esther made a weird excursion to the churchyard with a spade, and buried them in the dusk with their own hands. In the winter holidays, the intense cold of the unwarmed church made me so ill, that it led to my miserable penance being remitted.
Sketch by Augustus Hare
(c) Jon S. Page
A mile up the road from All
Saints is the home that Augustus Hare lived in for 25 years;
Lime, since that time Lime Park has been divided into four
separate dwellings.
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(c) Jon S. Page
