Hugh Philpott marches to Kipling’s tune

‘Belt upon belt, the wooded, dim, Blue goodness of the Weald.’ Kipling wrote that in his 1902 poem Sussex, describing the views near his home.

1902 was also the year that the Kiplings made the exceedingly good choice to buy a permanent home in Sussex. They had been renting Elm House in Rottingdean for about five years before deciding to purchase their better-known Wealden residence – Bateman’s, near Burwash.

I’m heading there today. If you’ve joined me before on my Sussex playlist outings, you’ll know I prefer public transport or going by foot. I can’t get all the way to Burwash by train, so I first travel to Etchingham via St Leonards-on-Sea, then take the Compass bus – number 231 – towards Heathfield. It’s a circuitous route, but worth it. I alight near the Bear Inn and pause in the beer garden to take in the full breadth of undulating landscape, falling away into soft, wooded folds. Hark at me going all lyrical! The Sussex countryside does that to me, especially on a crisp late autumn day like this. I’m sure there are even better spots, but this one comes with obvious benefits. I want to create a playlist inspired by Kipling and his Wealden life. I think it’s going to be an eclectic mix.

Inspiration isn’t far away. The pub logo shouts ‘Bateman’s to Burbank’ at me. Disney’s 1967 animated film The Jungle Book has remained a firm favourite of mine since I first saw it. The plot and script hardly resemble Kipling’s text, but who cares? It’s iconic in so many ways and deserves celebration. In my opinion, it boasts one of Disney’s most popular scores – and track one today comes from it. Baloo the Bear’s big number is the classic The Bare Necessities, and since you’re a sophisticated bunch of lounge lubbers, I’ve chosen the uber-cool Harry Connick Jr’s pure-90s version.

Harry Connick encourages a casual saunter along the High Street. I still have a bit of a walk before reaching Kipling’s house, and as I turn down Bateman’s Lane, I need something to pick up the pace. I have just the thing. Boots, a poem Kipling first wrote in 1895, became an iconic marching chant in 1915 when it was rendered as an audio recording. It’s eerily epiphoric, with its insistent rhythm and pounding repetition. It goes on like this to the point of unbearable insanity – but it makes compulsive listening. This version by Young Fathers is the most recent, taken from the soundtrack of the film Twenty-Eight Years Later. The trailer and score reuse that 1915 audio, mixed with contemporary electronic music and sound design. Try it!

Reaching my final destination should be a peaceful stroll down a country lane. Instead, Boots has made it something out of Mad Max. National Trust lifers hurtle past in freshly chamoised retirement SUVs. Taking cover under trees and hedgerows, crunchy acorns underfoot, brings me to track three. In the mood for something more sylvan, I turn to Oak, Ash and Thorn by the brilliant Northumberland-based folk band The Unthanks. Their 2019 live album features the Bellamy Suite – Kipling poems set to music by English folk singer and composer Peter Bellamy in the 70s.

Inside the house, it’s dark and a bit chilly. Low lighting and well-seasoned dark oak furniture give it an oppressive, mildly melancholic feel. As with many museum-kept homes, the rather stiff and old-fashioned curation makes it hard to feel the Kipling narrative I seek. Perhaps it needs more showing and less telling. It could be lighter, with more colour. None of this diminishes my own interest, which focuses on facsimile letters and scattered references to Kipling’s work.

Now in the study – which looks like it should be the main bedroom – I stray too close to Rudyard’s desk.

“Sir! Please stay this side of the rope!”

Guilty.

“Sorry, I wanted to get a better feel for his creative space.”

The excellent volunteer smiles at me, almost apologetically.

“He only let Rider Haggard in there with him. Haggard would often come and visit.”

Fascinating! Sadly, phone coverage is non-existent in this part of the Weald, so I can’t ask my virtual friend for help with this new information. I’ll have to wait for the Mulberry Tea Rooms’ Wi-Fi. I bank this intriguing connection for another day’s exploration.

Apparently, Rider Haggard lived part-time at North Lodge in St Leonards-on-Sea – the entrance to the Decimus Burton estate. I grew up loving the derring-do of Allan Quartermain and all the other characters in Haggard’s adventures across Africa and elsewhere. He offers an interlude from the pagan mysticism and anthropomorphic humour Kipling has afforded so far. Let’s hear something from Max Steiner’s sweeping score for the 1935 film version of Haggard’s novel She. Here is The Flame of Life, recorded by the Moscow Symphony Orchestra in 1990. It’s lush, late-Romantic, full of choral grandeur and thrilling exotic orchestration.

To match Haggard’s epic work, it’s only fair to mention Kim and The Man Who Would Be King. Both received the Hollywood blockbuster treatment. They weren’t the best, in my opinion, nor were the original scores. The composers – Korngold and Jarre respectively – were excellent choices, but sadly, like the adaptations, neither produced their finest work here. With that in mind, I insert the first movement of Korngold’s Violin Concerto in D Major. It’s a broad, cinematic opening marked moderato nobile. Korngold clearly drew on his film work – it’s packed with musical quotations from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Moving on, I explore the static exhibition, which offers a good mix of reference materials and odd memorabilia. It’s packed with musical quotations from the Golden Age of Hollywood.

Moving on, I explore the static exhibition, which offers a good mix of reference materials and odd memorabilia. It’s a shame it isn’t spread throughout the house to avoid the inevitable logjam when everyone peers over glass cases at once. There are one or two nods to the various ways The Jungle Book has been used as source or inspiration. A fine cinema poster for the 1967 Disney version hangs nearby, along with a small image of Banksy’s 2001 piece Save or Delete Jungle Book. Commissioned by Greenpeace for a campaign against global deforestation and illegal logging, it depicts Disney’s Jungle Book characters blindfolded and awaiting execution against a clear-felled forest backdrop. Strong stuff. Disney hated it and threatened legal action. I don’t know whether the Kipling estate reacted. I like to think Rud – Carrie’s nickname for him – would have approved.

At this point, I have to bring in King Louis, the human-obsessed orangutan. His big number in the Disney version is I Wanna Be Like You, but Kipling’s own writing suggests something different. His message is clear throughout: mankind must understand the law of the jungle, where every creature – including man – survives only by respecting the balance that binds the jungle together. I include the cover of that song by the great Kenny Ball and his Jazzmen, icons of 60s British jazz and frequent visitors to Sussex theatres and concert halls. A staple of childhood and Family Favourites on the BBC Light Programme.

As I make my way home, retracing my winding cross-country route, I listen to the music of Percy Grainger. The mood is completely different. Grainger – probably best known for Country Gardens – composed the Kipling Jungle Book Cycle. I feel it’s the closest to Kipling’s vision. Grainger was one of the few, perhaps the only, composers to work with Kipling’s explicit agreement. In my view, it remains one of the most original musical representations of Kipling’s world. It’s like a kind of folk-modernist experiment. I pick out Mowgli’s Song Against People as my final track, but encourage you to embrace the whole suite.

Listen to the ROSA Magazine ‘Bateman’s to Burbank’ playlist on Spotify.