Tuesday 13 June 2023

Ludd's a Dud....

The mythical King Ludd is plagued by a greedy giant. Perhaps there's a metaphor here?

Earlier I wrote a post about Vineyard Farms’ latest batch of fake fizz and its equally fake-sounding marketing campaign for it.

Their marketing blurb for it states that:

…”Silver Reign is a reflection of our regal heritage. We invoke King Ludd's pioneering legacy to bring the unique terroir in the Garden of England to life, producing England's finest sparkling wines…”

“Our regal heritage”…?!  “We invoke King Ludd’s pioneering legacy”…?!

I read this and wondered just what fresh hell Vineyard Farms is now trying to inflict upon us.

Like many others I was inclined to think that in their unilateral renaming of large parts of the parishes of Cuxton, Halling and Luddesdown as the “Silverhand Estate”, Vineyard Farms had simply liked the vibe and gone with it. 

Many of the fields, woodlands and roads around Cuxton and Luddesdown have interesting and unusual names, names that are steeped in local history. Wrangling Lane, Cutter Ridge, Bushy Wood, Hatch Hill, Brimstone Hill, Brazenden Wood, Backenden Hill: all of these names mean something locally and would have made fitting titles for Vineyard Farms’ new estate and their brands. That would mean that Vineyard Farms would need to acknowledge the pre-existence of the local community around their new fiefdom however, something they don't seem to want to do.

After all, I can see why a moniker like “Silver Hand” might appeal to a certain type of management team. It has a remote, cold, impersonal feel to it, invoking both wealth and power. There are no warm or friendly connotations associated with the thought of the cold, metallic grasp from a powerful, wealthy, disconnected hand. It almost seems to have been adopted as a warning first and a brand second. 

In terms of historical precedent or links of the Silverhand name with the areas of Cuxton, Halling or Luddesdown however, there appeared to be none whatsoever – indeed, the most prevalent on-line reference to “Silverhand” was to a computer game character!

Johnny Silverhand "doesn't care much for the people around him as long as they are used to accomplish his goals..."

I like to think I know a little bit about local history, but the mention of a “King Ludd” rather puzzled me. It was certainly one I hadn’t come across before in my various researches in relation to Luddesdown.

Vineyard Farms themselves say that the “Silverhand” name comes from:

“…the history of the area - King Ludd, the founder of Luddesdown and many other points of interest, lost his hand in battle and had it replaced with a Silver Hand.  Hence, we have taken that inspiration and name our vineyard the Silverhand Estate….”

Stories of King Lludd Law Eriant (“Ludd of the Silver Hand”) state that he was King of the Britons from around 79BC to 18BC, and allegedly ordered the rebuilding of London's walls and towers. They go on to tell us that the city, hitherto known as Trin ovantum, thus became the city of Lud, i.e. Kaerlud. This was later corrupted to Kaerfundein, from whence came its present name. Ludd was eventually buried in London, close to Ludgate that still bears his name.

These tales arise from the History of the Kings of Britain as written by Geoffery of Monmonth (1095-1155) - a work which is now pretty much regarded as “a literary forgery containing little reliable history”!

Geoffery of Monmonth, it seems, was much more of a romanticist than a historian, many of his works being associated with mythical figures such as King Arthur. Indeed, it seems that his stories about King Ludd were derived from Welsh folklore.

The reality of local history may not be as glamorous or magical as Vineyard Farms would like it to be, although it is still fascinating nonetheless.

The dates given for the “reign of King Ludd” above coincide with a time just fifty years before the Roman invasion of Britain. The country at the time was divided into many different kingdoms ruled over by their own tribal kings, rather than a single “King of the Britons” as Ludd was claimed to be.

At the time of the Roman invasion in 43AD, Kent itself was under the rule of the four kings whom the Romans called the Cantiaci (whose capital was at Durovernum Cantiacorum, now called Canterbury) and who Julius Caesar named as Segovax, Carvilius, Cingetorix, and Taximagulus. On the news of the Roman landing, the British tribes united to fight the invaders under the command of Togodumnus and his brother Caratacus of the Catuvellauni tribe.

These British tribes were subsequently defeated at the Battle of Medway and fell back to the Thames, a wider river that was harder for the Romans to cross and easier to defend. Londinium was subsequently established as a civilian town by the Romans about four years later. Of a “King Ludd” and his founding of London, genuine histories contain not a trace…

So regarding the Silverhand Estate’s claims to a “regal heritage”, two things are completely apparent.

First and foremost, King Ludd of the Britons probably never existed. He is a figure from Welsh mythology, with links to the legend of King Arthur. He’s a myth. A legend. All that stuff linking him with London or anywhere else is just folklore. Ludd may have once been a minor Welsh tribal chieftain, but he almost certainly wasn't a King of the Britons. There is thus no real “regal heritage” or “pioneering legacy” for Vineyard Farms to trade off of.

Secondly, there is no concrete evidence to link the non-existent King Ludd with Luddesdown anyway, despite the plausibility of the name.

In terms of the origins of Luddesdown, Edward Hasted’s ancient and renowned History and Topographical Survey of the History of Kent Volume 3 tells us that:

”ADJOINING to Meopham, eastward, lies Luddesdon, commonly called Luddesdown. In the Textus Roffensis it is written Hludesdune, and in Domesday, Ledesdune. This place takes it name from the two Saxon words, leod populous, and dune collis, i.e. the peopled hill, alluding to its situation in this hilly country."

Alternatively, the name of Hludesdune, as cited in the 10th century Textus Roffensis (Book of Rochester) translates as “Hludes Hill”: it may be that Hlude was a local chieftain of the area. “Hlude” also translates from the Anglo-Saxon as “loud” (and may be the origin of the term "hullabaloo"): perhaps the hill referred to was a meeting place.

But whichever way you slice it, there were no plagues of dwarves, no red and white dragons, no magical giants and no mythical kings in Luddesdown’s history.

Perhaps Luddesdown’s history was just far too boring, obscure and mundane for Vineyard Farms and so they simply decided to invent a more glamorous one to suit their own ends. Perhaps they just are jealous of their (and far more liked) competitor Chapel Down's genuine historical links to their own area and local community, links that they are proud to advertise. Perhaps VF felt they therefore needed to pay a historian to come up with a plausible-sounding load of mythical old cobblers in order to try and give some substance to their whimsical choice of an estate name.

(They have “form” in that respect. After all, they have just paid a top King’s Counsel to argue a legal case that the green belt/AONB planning restrictions affecting their billionaire’s £30m Xanadu can be waived aside, because it really is just the same as an agricultural tin shed, isn’t it?)

Or perhaps they've just been badly advised. After all, Vineyard Farms Ltd are largely just a bunch of business managers, advertising wonks and accountants, not historians. It would be quite amusing to think that a high-powered, multi-million pound company, and one that was looking forward to basing its entire branding strategy on having a "regal heritage", was misdirected by a preference for fantasies and legends rather than historical fact.

Whatever the reason, we should just laugh at their somewhat feeble attempts to subvert our local history to suit their own corporate marketing purposes - but thanks to things like ChatBot AI, made-up twaddle can soon become main-stream. Repeat nonsense often enough and clever-clever algorithms will pick it up and turn it into “the truth” - or at least what the lazy and credulous regard it as.


Vineyard Farms have bought up huge swathes of our local parishes and are aggressively reshaping and policing them in order to hijack their future for profit and glory.

Now, it seems, Vineyard Farms want to reshape and hi-jack our past as well.

Just my opinion of course, but could they really be any more contemptuous of the local area (and its people) than that?

Money can certainly buy you vast swathes of historic green-belt AONB farmland and enable you to industrialise it for profit. Money might buy you a favourable public inquiry result. It might even buy you a reinvented, glamorous history.

But, as the song goes, it can’t buy you love... 

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