Although he wasn’t initially keen on the idea of taking on this case, he had to admit that reading about the America Ground had piqued his interest.
The next documents, carefully sealed in plastic wrappings, were postcards featuring sketches of the America Ground from different perspectives. They showed a collection of ordinary-looking houses and buildings nestled between two large rocky hills. Morton took out his mobile phone and photographed the images before setting them to one side and moving on to the stack of paper that formed the remainder of the file.
He next came to what he thought was a run-of-the-mill account explaining the demise of the America Ground. An inquest into the legal ownership of the land had occurred in 1827, following someone’s attempt to sell their property there; the verdict swiftly handed full ownership to the Crown. However, what he read caused him to stop and carefully run his eyes back over the previous paragraph to check that he hadn’t made a mistake in what he had read. It stated that in 1827 a handful of seven-year leases had been issued to occupants who had wished to remain on the America Ground, before the whole site was cleared entirely in 1835. There was definitely no mention of any freehold entitlements being issued. Morton gazed out of the window, momentarily distracted by a scraggy pigeon balancing on a smashed windowpane. How had Eliza Lovekin procured a freehold parcel of land when the other deeds issued were short-term leases? Morton wondered.
The pigeon disappeared into the gloom of the adjacent building and Morton snapped back into the present, feeling the unexpected but welcome pull of intrigue that Eliza Lovekin and the America Ground looked set to offer.
Carefully placing the paperwork and postcards back inside the first wallet, he pulled open the second folder. At the top of the pile was a laminated map entitled Plan of the Derelict Lands of Hastings, on which was plotted all the homes and businesses of the America Ground prior to clearance. Morton studied it with interest, wondering which of the small pink-coloured parcels of land had been occupied by Eliza Lovekin. Below this plan was a map showing the area once occupied by the America Ground after it had been levelled and then redeveloped in the 1850s with fine Victorian houses and shops. With a wry smile on his face, Morton realised that the very building in which he was currently sitting was located right in the middle of the former America Ground and that the roads that he had taken to get here almost exactly followed the routes they had done when walked by Eliza in the 1820s.
The next document made Morton sit up with interest: it was the official report made by the Commissioners of Woods, Forests and Land Revenues into the America Ground, following the inquest. Morton read the preamble, which explained how the Crown had come to receive the land. The lands adjoin to the town of Hastings, under the Western Cliff, and occupy a space of nearly a quarter of a mile in length and 500 yards in width, which from its situation and appearance was, without doubt, formerly part of the sea shore…the land was found to have been in former times covered with sea, and to be wasteland not within the bounds of any manor or manors, and unoccupied until within 60 years, within which period many buildings have been erected thereon without any licence, lease or grant of any description from the Crown, and that therefore the inquest had caused the same to be seized into the hands of His Majesty…
Turning the page, Morton was pleased to see a list of occupants and their occupations. He scanned down the list. There was only one person with the surname Lovekin:
Eliza Lovekin, publican, one timber cottage with yard and brick built public house, annual value of the property £27.
Morton copied the entry onto his notepad then sat back in his chair and looked around the room, his mind wandering as he did so; his absorption in his task had been such that he had not noticed that all sections of the Reference Library were now quietly bustling with people undertaking their own research.
His attention returned to the remaining stack of papers in front of him. There were further accounts, much along the same lines as the others, which explained the advent and ending of the America Ground. A photocopy of a torn page from the local newspaper, dated 8 July 2011, showed Independence Day celebrations occurring on the former site of the America Ground. Pictures showed keen locals dressed in stars and stripes and the town’s mayor raising what the newspaper had dubbed ‘the America Ground flag’. Morton smiled as he photographed the report, finding it a strange gesture to celebrate this curious occurrence in the town’s history.
Morton looked at the final document in the pile: another photocopy from the local paper. He read the report, dated 11 March 1988, with interest. It stated that the entire four acres had been sold from the Crown Estates to Riccards-Maloney, a London property development company for over £4.8 million. The new owners, taking control of houses, hotels, flats, guesthouses and thirty-five shops, promised their numerous tenants and leaseholders that this run-down area of the town would now see regeneration and improvement. He photographed the page and noted down the
