An excerpt from a little brochure written in 1951, sadly, author unknown, but published “in aid of Thursley Festival Funds” at price 6d (old pennies for those who don’t remember!).
Thursley 1951
A Brief History of the Parish and Village.
“When writing a brief history of Thursley, it is difficult to distinguish between fact and fiction: between actual events and romantic yarns, which everyone has heard from their ancestors. The generations of Thursley’s inhabitants appear to include honest hard-working labourers, hard-working smugglers and hard-working highwaymen amongst those who have created its history. A variety to please all!
Many years ago, the parish boundaries of Thursley extended as far as Haslemere, but now they are greatly curtailed. They run round Thursley Common, including Warren Mere and cut across to Bowlhead Green, almost to Brook, then back past Boundless Farm to the Devil’s Punch Bowl. They then continue round the bowl to Pitch Place, down to Truxford and back on to the common again.
Naturally the Portsmouth Road has always had its influence upon Thursley’s life and villains often frequented it as it was a great source of revenue to the highwaymen. There is believed to be a secret underground passage running from the back of Foldsdown to the sandy bank at the foot of the hill below Millhanger (remember this was 1951, before the A3 extension - ed), through which they made good their escape after holding up the coaches, as they toiled up the hill. It has even been hinted that the local clergy had held up coaches themselves in order to improve depleted church funds.
The church is largely Saxon, although it has been enlarged and restored. There is an old Saxon oven which was used for baking the Communion wafers and for heating charcoal for incense. The font is almost certainly Saxon and the massive oak timbers supporting the steeple make a structure which is probably unique. Inside, there is an interesting 16th century oak chest, fitted with three locks. Each warden was provided with a key for one lock and by this method, their honesty was never allowed to be in doubt.
Not much is known about the very early history of Thursley; a few Neolithic implements have been found, mainly axe heads and arrow heads. However, during the 15th and 16th centuries, the woollen cloth industries flourished at Godalming, and although it was illegal to weave cloth outside the cloth towns, two Surrey families, the Hooke’s and the Chitty’s carried on the industry at Thursley.
In the 17th century, Thursley became a centre of the iron smelting industry. The iron mills were built near a brook on Thursley Common, which was widened in places to make the ponds, known as the Hammer Ponds. These were used for cooling the iron as it was smelted. Gradually, the iron industry with its attendant occupation of charcoal burning, died out, and by the end of the 18th century, very little iron was worked. It is generally accepted that the first four cottages in The Lane (now Back Lane) were used as workshops, connected with the industry, while the cottages above them were the dwelling houses of the workmen.
Silk weaving, at the beginning of the 19th century took the place of iron smelting, and the mills were also built near the Hammer Ponds. Much raw silk was reputedly smuggled from France to the mills at Warren Mere, then onto Dye House, where it was dyed before disposal. The smuggling activities were no doubt very profitably managed, and at a later date even whiskey was supposed to have been hidden away in cellars under Upper Highfield Farm and its outbuildings. It is said that the horses used to transport the whiskey, were taken to The Forge where the shoes were turned back to front in order to fool the customs officers.
After the decline of the silk weaving industry, the common was left to sheep; quite large flocks being raised on the excellent grass, which at that time, covered Thursley heath.
Thursley has now almost healed the scars of the last war and is peaceful once more. How will the future compare with the past? The facts show us Thursley is as lovely and industrious as ever, its countryside unrestricted to us in almost every direction, but no doubt the imagination can still visualise a smuggler behind every door”.