by GEORGE JEPSON

homas Paine Kydd – a late eighteenth-century wig-maker in the charming small English town of Guildford, which was developed along the River Wey where it cut a valley through the North Downs in Surrey – would likely recognize much of his city today.

Although Kydd – who in 1793 is impressed into His Majesty’s Royal Navy in Julian Stockwin’s debut novel ’Kydd‘ is a fictitious character – Guildford is not imaginary, and has a history stretching back to 600 AD.

Stockwin, writing his first naval adventure in a planned series of fifteen or more, chose Guildford as the setting for young Tom Kydd’s wig shop.  The town, not so coincidentally, is where Stockwin and his wife, Kathy, made their home until their move to Devon.

On a chilly spring afternoon in late April, we journeyed by rail from London's Waterloo Station to Guildford to meet with the Stockwins over afternoon tea. After stepping from the train onto the platform of the railway station, the Stockwins greeted us, and we were soon strolling toward the High Street – and back in time to the days of Thomas Paine Kydd. 

Reaching the top of a hill, we looked down the cobbled High Street, where the bustle of pedestrians could easily have been taking place on the afternoon before Tom Kydd was pressed, beginning his ‘long journey...on the high seas.’

Across the street stood Holy Trinity Church and Churchyard, which dates to medieval times, although the present structure was completed in classical style in 1763 thirty years before Tom Kydd was spirited away by the Impressment Service.  Striding past the entrance and into the churchyard, Julian pointed out ancient graves where victims of the plague rest.

‘Is this the burial ground where you selected names from headstones for characters in?’ I asked.  With a smile, he pointed to a weathered and tilting marker with the name Tewsley carved into it. Stockwin’s fictional Mr Tewsley is ‘a lined, middle-aged lieutenant,’ aboard the Duke William.

Once again crossing High Street, we entered a portal leading into Abbot’s Hospital, built in 1619-1622 as an almshouse for aged Guildfordians.  Walking through a passageway, we encountered a courtyard, surrounded on four sides by a two-story dark-brown brick structure.  A beautifully manicured lawn, bisected by a red brick walk, was the focal point of this open-air room, which exuded a sense of reverential quiet.

  Just down the block, Julian stopped in front of a shop, and with a broad grin, gestured toward the door.  ‘Kydd’s shop?’ we queried.  ‘Yes,’ he replied, as our imagination took over, visualizing wigs displayed in the window and the proprietor chatting with a customer, perhaps a senior naval officer.

Turning downhill, our attention was captivated by a magnificent black-faced clock, trimmed in gilt, which projects out from the facade of the Guildhall, high above street level.  The building was refronted in 1683 and contains a sixteenth-century courtroom and a seventeenth-century council chamber.

We walked the short distance to the Angel posting house, just down the hill from the Guildhall and Kydd’s shop.  Stepping through the door, we were again surrounded by history. ‘There, in the last days of the peace,’ wrote Stockwin in Kydd, ‘(Thomas) had seen from his wig shop in High Street grim faces of naval officers staring from coach windows as they clattered over the cobblestones on their way to the Angel posting house.’ The inn was a popular  place of lodging for naval officers en route by coach from London to Portsmouth.  Lord Nelson is said to have spent his last night in England in the Angel, writing a final letter to Emma Hamilton, before embarking aboard HMS Victory for Trafalgar and immortality.

Seated in a comfortable parlor – which is situated under the room in which Nelson slept – tea was laid before us. Refreshed, we were pleasantly surprised to learn there were more visual treasures in Guildford, as we tread uphill to the ruins of a medieval castle. Stone walls and a tower, standing as sentries over Guildford since 1071 are surrounded by flowing gardens featuring sweeping vistas of flowers, shrubs, and trees.  Tom Kydd would surely have scampered among the ruins with his mates as a boy.

Winding our way through the streets, we slipped down the steps of narrow Rosemary Alley and were soon crossing the footbridge to Millmead lock and following the tow path next to the River Wey, with its narrow canal boats and lovely swans.

The setting in Guildford is tranquil – even for the twenty-first century – and a place to be recalled in our memories again and again.

Our visit was brief.  After a delightful dinner, we boarded a train bound for London, feeling a kinship with Thomas Kydd and the town for which he longed, as he sailed away to a new life on board the Royal Billy. No matter where in the world the sea takes him, Kydd will always have Guildford in his mind, and will, according to Stockwin, return in the future, despite the lack of sentiment among hardened shipmates:

“The man chuckled harshly. ‘Forget home, lad. You’re crew of the Royal Billy all the time she’s in commission - you gets to leave her only if she goes to Davy Jones’s locker...”

Reprinted with permission from the on-line magazine Bowsprit