Once a bustling seaside village, this spot on the Sussex coast is now barely recognisable, having been reduced to mere rubble and ruins after its residents were compelled to abandon it.

Today, all that remains of Tide Mills are crumbled bricks and mortar. It’s easy to overlook the fact that this serene marshland was once home to a thriving community and industry less than a hundred years ago. As suggested by its name, the close-knit community was centred around a tidal mill that began work in 1761. Initially, it was a modest operation with local men loading barges with corn and wheat while women mended the flour sacks.

They resided in a few cottages constructed around the mill. However, in 1795, Tide Mills was plunged into chaos when starving English soldiers involved in the Napoleonic Wars pilfered 200 sacks of flour from the town, an act which led to their immediate capture and execution.

Do you have a travel story to share? Email webtravel@reachplc.com

The town underwent significant expansion a decade later when William Catt acquired the mill. The industrialist, who had a keen interest in exotic fruits, erected a large greenhouse where he cultivated figs and pineapples, as reported by the Tide Mills Project. But life in Tide Mills wasn’t all about leisure and delectable fruits. Catt ruled the village with an iron hand, erecting walls around it and enforcing a strict curfew at 10.10 pm, after which the gates were locked. On one occasion, when some villagers returned from the pub ten minutes late, Catt retaliated by cancelling their beer tokens and prohibiting them from leaving the village for a month. 

Two significant events marked the start of Tide Mills’ decline. In 1864, the railway line was extended to Seaford, making it more economical and convenient for farmers to transport their grain to London for milling. Just over a decade later, a severe storm wreaked havoc on the mill, including depositing large quantities of beach stones into its pond. It never regained full operational capacity.

“The way people lived changed a lot over the life of Tide Mills, especially when the Mill stopped working for good in 1883. The Mill, which provided work for so many men, had stopped and the beating heart of the village fell silent. The Mill buildings were converted and used as warehouses where some of the men continued to work,” the Tide Mills Project writes.

Gradually, vital community facilities such as the school, blacksmith, and carpenters vanished from the village. Yet the residents remained, doing their best to survive. During the early part of the 20th century, Tide Mills experienced something of a revival. A large radio mast was erected to assist maritime navigation, whilst a seaplane station base opened in 1917, bringing military personnel, activity, and two substantial hangars for the aircraft on the beach.

Nevertheless, the settlement’s demise drew ever nearer. In 1930, Parliament introduced a Housing Act which enabled local authorities to declare housing as unsuitable for human habitation. Tide Mills fell into a state of disrepair due to neglect and lack of investment. In 1936, a petition was launched to evict the villagers from Tide Mills amid concerns that the dwellings were no longer habitable.

The Daily Mail in 1937 ran a headline ‘The Hamlet of Horror’, painting a grim picture of the living conditions, highlighting the absence of running water, sewage facilities and electricity. Water was drawn from a single standpipe used by all six houses, rubbish was disposed of in the sea, and each house had an outdoor earth closet, the contents of which had to be manually emptied and taken to the sea.

Later that year, Seaford council declared Tide Mills unfit for habitation and issued an eviction order, giving residents nine months to vacate. Everyone, including Chailey Marine Hospital, was evicted from Tide Mills. Those who resisted were forcibly removed in 1940.

Today, it’s hard to discern the remains of the buildings amidst the ruins that still stand. The only recognisable structure is Station House, located at the northern end of the village near the railway line. In 1940, war veteran Stan Tubb was allowed to stay for an additional two months due to his specialised knowledge that was beneficial to the troops stationed there during WWII.

All structures in the village and hospital were razed as they would have impeded the sightlines of defending soldiers and obstructed their capacity to target invaders. Presently, the remnants are accessible for exploration and Tide Mills is a favoured route for walkers and cyclists.