Seaward Sussex / The South Downs from End to End

"Lewes is the most romantic situation I ever saw"; thus Defoe, and the capital of Sussex shares with Rye and Arundel the distinction of having a continental picturesqueness more in keeping with old France than with one of the home counties of England. This, however, is only the impression made by the town when viewed as a whole; its individual houses, its churches and castle, and above all, its encircling hills are England, and England at her best and dearest to those who call Sussex home.

The beauty of the surroundings when viewed from almost any of its old world streets and the charm of the streets themselves make the old town an ever fresh and welcome resort for the tired Londoner who appreciates a quiet holiday. As a centre for the exploration of East Sussex Lewes has no equal; days may be spent before the interest of the immediate neighbourhood is exhausted; for those who are vigorous enough for hill rambling the paths over the Downs are dry and passable in all weathers, and the Downs themselves, even apart from the added interest of ancient church or picturesque farm and manor, are ample recompense for the small toil involved in their exploration.

The origin of Lewes goes back to unknown times, the very meaning of the name is lost, its situation in a pass and on the banks of the only navigable river in East Sussex inevitably made it a place of some importance. It is known that Athelstan had two mints here and that the Norman Castle was only a rebuilding by William de Warenne on the site of a far older stronghold. To this de Warenne, the Conqueror, with his usual liberality, presented the town, and it is from the ruins of his castle that we should commence our exploration.

Of de Warenne's building only the inner gateway remains. The outer gate and the keep date from the reign of the first Edward; the site of a second keep is shown in private grounds not far off, a feature very rare in this country if not unique.

The summit of the tower is laid out as an old world garden; and here is also the interesting museum of the Sussex Archaeological Society, but the visitor will be best repaid by the magnificent view of the surrounding country spread out before him. To the north-west rises Mount Harry, and to the right of this stretches the wide expanse of the Weald bounded by the sombre ridges of Ashdown Forest, dominated by Crowborough Beacon slightly east of due north.

The quarries and combe of Cliffe Hill stand up with fine effect immediately east of the town, which sinks from where we stand to the Ouse at the bottom of the valley. More to the south-east is Mount Caburn above the bare and melancholy flats through which the Ouse finds its way to the sea; due south-west the long range of Newmarket Hill stretches away to the outskirts of Brighton, and the Race Course Hill brings us back to our starting point. Beautiful as is the distant prospect the greatest charm of this unique view is in the huddle of picturesque red-tiled roofs and greenery beneath us.

Of the history of the Castle there are but scanty records; its part in the making of East Sussex seems to have been fairly quiescent, and in the great struggle of May 1264 between the forces of the Barons and Henry III, for which Lewes will always be famous, the fortress took no actual part and merely surrendered at discretion.

"The battle was fought on the hill where the races are held. Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, headed the Baronial army. The Royal forces were divided into three bodies; the right entrusted to Prince Edward; the left to Richard, Earl of Cornwall, King of the Romans; and the centre to Henry himself. Prince Edward attacked the Londoners under Nicholas Seagrave with such impetuosity that they immediately fled and were pursued with great slaughter. Montfort taking advantage of this separation, vigorously charged the remaining division of the Royalists, which he put to rout. The King and the Earl of Cornwall hastened to the town, where they took refuge in the Priory. Prince Edward, returning in triumph from the pursuit of the Londoners, learned with amazement the fate of his father and uncle. He resolved to make an effort to set them at liberty, but his followers were too timid to second his ardour, and he was finally compelled to submit to the conditions subscribed by his father, who agreed that the Prince and his cousin Henry, son of the Earl of Cornwall, should remain as hostages in the hands of the Barons till their differences were adjusted by Parliament. In this contest 5,000 men were slain. The King, who had his horse slain under him, performed prodigies of valour. Richard, Earl of Cornwall, was taken prisoner."

By all accounts it was a good fight, and the best men won. A touch of humour is added to one record wherein it is related that Richard, King of the Romans, took refuge in a windmill, wherein he was afterwards captured amid shouts of "Come out, thou bad miller." This mill stood near the old Black Horse Inn, but has long since been burnt down.

Accounts vary exceedingly as to the number of the slain, some authorities giving as many as 20,000, others no more than 2,700.

"Many faire ladie lose hir lord that day,

And many gode bodie slayn at Leans lay.

The nombre none wrote, for tell them might no man.

But He that alle wote, and alle thing ses and can."

(Robert Brune.)

There are certain times, especially in the early hours of a fine autumn day, when the mass of old grey stone is seen rising above its vassal town through golden river mists which veil the modernities of the railway and its appurtenancies, and one feels that the battle might have taken place yesterday. Strange that this town is an important and busy railway junction and yet so little has the old-world appearance of the place suffered in consequence; here are no ugly rows of railwaymen's cottages in stark evidence on the hillsides; in actual fact the coming of the railway has added to the antiquarian and historical interest of the town, as will be seen presently.

A short distance along High Street stands St. Michael's Church, which has one of the three curious round towers for which the valley of the Ouse is famous. The style of the tower is Norman, but the body of the church is of later dates. Here are some fine brasses; one is supposed to commemorate a de Warenne who died about 1380; another is to John Bradford, rector, dated 1457. The monument to Sir Nicholas Pelham (1559) has an oft-quoted punning verse-

"What time the French sought to have sacked Sea-Foord

This Pelham did repel-em back aboord."

St. Anne's Church is nearly a quarter of a mile farther on. The style is Transitional. There are several interesting items, including a very fine and ancient font of a "basket" pattern. Note the uncommon appearance of the capitals on the south side pillars, an ancient tomb in the chancel wall, and, not least, the doorway with Norman moulding. There is in this church a window in memory of Lower, a fitting tribute to the historian of Sussex, but his best memorial will always be that work that is still the basis of most writings on the past of the county.

The road continues to the Battlefield and Mount Harry, but to explore the lower portion of the town a return must be made to High Street. At the corner of Bull Lane, marked by a memorial tablet and with a queer carved demon upon its front is Tom Paine's house. Note the unusual milestone on a house front opposite Keere Street, down which turning is presently passed (on the left) Southover House (1572), a good example of Elizabethan architecture. Keere Street has another remnant of the past in its centre gutter, the usual method of draining the street in medieval times, but now very seldom seen except in the City of London.

At the foot of the street is the (probably dry) bed of the Winterbourne, so called because, like other streams of the chalk country, it flows at intermittent times. A short distance farther, to the right, and just past St. John's Church, will be found the entrance to the space once occupied by the first Priory of the Cluniacs in England.

Founded in 1078 by William de Warenne and his wife Gundrada and dedicated to St. Pancras, the Priory was always closely allied with the parent house on the continent. At the Dissolution more than the usual vandalism seems to have been observed and Cromwell's creatures must have vented some personal spite against the monks in their wholesale demolition of the buildings. A mound to the north-east is supposed to be the site of a calvary, and until quite recently a "colombarium" or dovecote was allowed to stand which contained homes for over three thousand birds.

"The Priory building was probably irregular, varying in its form as the increase of inmates demanded additional room. But though irregular, it was certainly a noble edifice, faced with Caen stone, and richly adorned by the chisel of the sculptor. Its walls embraced an area of 32 acres, 2 rods, 11 perches, and it was not less remarkable for its magnificence than extent. The length of the church was 150 feet, having an altitude of 60 feet. It was supported by thirty-two pillars, eight of which were very lofty, being 42 feet high, 18 feet thick, and 45 feet in circumference; the remaining twenty-four were 10 feet thick, 25 feet in circumference, and 18 feet in height.[1] The belfry was placed over the centre of the church, at an elevation of 105 feet, and was supported by the eight lofty pillars above mentioned. The roof over the high altar was 93 feet high. Its walls were 10 feet thick. On the right side of the high altar was a vault supported by four pillars, and from this recess branched out five chapels that were bounded by a wall 70 yards long. A higher vault supported by four massive pillars, 14 feet in diameter, and 45 feet in circumference, was probably on the left side of the high altar, and corresponded with the one just mentioned, from which branched out other chapels or cells of the monks. How many chapels there were cannot be ascertained; the names of only three are known, the Virgin Mary, St. Thomas the Martyr, and St. Martin. The chapter-house and church were by far the most splendid apartments of this stately pile; the latter was richly adorned by the painter and the sculptor."

The wooden chapel of St. Pancras which existed here in Saxon times probably stood where later the high altar of the great Norman church was reared, and across this site the Eastbourne trains now run. The station itself is supposed to be on the site of the convent kitchens and consequently the present ruins are very scanty. Though the foundations laid bare at the cutting of the railway in 1845 show the great extent of the buildings, the battered walls which now remain give but little indication of the imposing dimensions quoted above, and the visitor will have to depend on sentiment and the imagination rather than on actual sightseeing. The excavators in 1845 had a gruesome experience, for they discovered a charnel pit containing thirteen cart loads of bones of the fallen warriors at the battle of Lewes. Although nearly six centuries had elapsed the stench was dreadful.

That the archaeological interest of Lewes owes much to the making of the railway will now be seen.

The following account appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine, 1845:-

"On the morning of Tuesday, October 28, a most interesting discovery was made by the workmen employed in forming a cutting for the Lewes and Brighton Railway, through the ground formerly occupied by the great Cluniac Priory of St. Pancras, at Lewes. It is well-known that the original founders, in 1078, were William de Warenne, Earl of Surrey, of a great Norman family, and his wife Gundred, the daughter of William the Conqueror and his Queen Matilda; that they pulled down an old wooden church to replace it by a stone one, and that after their deaths in 1085 and 1088, they were buried in the chapter-house of their Priory. So effectual, however, was the destruction of the buildings in 1537 by the Ecclesiastical Commissioners of Henry VIII that the very site of the church has been uncertain, and there has long been nothing visible of the ruins but a confused mass of broken walls and arches half buried under the soil. The bold intrusion of a railway into these hallowed precincts has thrown light upon this obscurity, and in the course of their excavations the workmen have found, covered by some slabs of Caen stone, two leaden chests containing the bones of the founders, and inscribed with their names. They are not coffins, but cists or chests, and are both of similar form and dimensions, ornamented externally by a large net-work of interlaced cords moulded in the lead. The cist of William de Warenne measures 2 feet 11 inches long, by 12? inches broad, and is 8 inches deep, all the angles being squared, and the flat loose cover lapping an inch over. On the upper surface at one end is inscribed in very legible characters 'WillelMus.' The cist of the princess his wife is 2 inches shorter and 1 inch deeper, and the word 'Gvndrada' is very distinctly inscribed on the cover. It is worth remarking that her father, the Conqueror, in his charter, calls for Gundfreda, and her husband, who survived her, calls her Gundreda in his charter.

"It is obvious, from the length of these receptacles, that their bones have been transferred to them from some previous tombs, and it is not difficult to suppose that, the chapter-house not being built at the time of their deaths, the founders were buried elsewhere until its completion, and that the bodies were then found so decayed that their bones only remained for removal to a more distinguished situation, and were, on that occasion, placed in these very leaden chests. A rebuilding of the Priory Church was begun on the anniversary of William the founder's death in 1243, and from the antique form of the letters G and M the inscriptions cannot be fixed at a later period. The characters, indeed, more resemble the form used in the twelfth century. Of the genuine antiquity of these relics there cannot be the slightest doubt. It is locally notorious that the black marble slab which formerly covered the remains of Gundrada, beautifully carved and bordered with nine Latin verses in her honour cut in the rim and down the middle, was discovered in 1775 in Isfield Church, misappropriated as a tombstone over one of the Shirley family, and by the care of Sir William Burrel removed to the church of Southover, immediately adjoining the ruins of the Priory. It is very singular that now, after an interval of eight years, her very bones should be brought to the same church (under the superintendence of the Rev. Mr. Scobell) there to undergo a third burial under Gundrada's marble slab.

"The tombstone of Gundred Countess of Warren was discovered about the year 1775, by Dr. Clarke, rector of Buxted, in the Shirley chancel of Isfield Church, forming the table part of a mural monument of Edward Shirley, Esq., by whose father probably it was preserved at the demolition of the Priory, and conveyed to Isfield, his manorial estate. At the expense of Dr., afterwards Sir William, Burrell, it was removed from its obscure station, and placed upon a suitable shrine, in the vestry-pew of Southover Church, that being the nearest convenient spot to its original station. The stone is of black marble, sculptured in very high relief. The lower end had been broken off before its discovery at Isfield. Around the rim, and along the middle, is the following inscription:

Stirps Gundrada ducum, decus evi, nobile germen,

Intulit ecclesiis Anglorum balsama morum,

Martir (is hanc aedem struxit Pancrati in honorem)

Martha fuit miseris, fuit ex pietate Maria;

Pars obiit Marthe, superest pars magna Marie.

O pie Pancrati, testis pietatis et equi,

Te facit heredem, tu clemens suscipe matrem.

Sexta kalendarum junii lux obvia carnis

Fregit alabastrum (superest pars optima coelo).

(Conjectured words in parenthesis.)

"Another leaden coffin, full of bones, but without any inscription, has also been found, longer than those of the founder's, having a semicircular top, and six large rings of 3? inches diameter attached to the outsides. At a little distance from the two small chests, there was also found the remains of an ecclesiastic, buried without any coffin, but lying upon a bed of coarse gravel within a hollow space formed by large flat stones. His hands were in a position indicating that they had been joined together in the attitude of prayer over his breast, as usual. Not only his bones, but much of his thick woollen gown, his under-garment of linen, and his leather shoes have been preserved. These, too, have been carefully transferred to Southover Church. It has been conjectured with much probability that these remains were those of Peter, the son of John, Earl de Warren, the patron of the monastery, who was appointed prior contrary to the nomination of the Pope in favour of the suggestion that the reinterment of the remains of the founders took place about the beginning of the thirteenth century."

A chapel specially designed to receive the leaden caskets was erected in excellent taste at St. John's, Southover, in 1847. The names are plainly decipherable. The tombstone on the floor is that of Gundrada, brought here from Isfield. The effigy in the wall of the chapel is conjectured to be that of John de Braose, who died in 1232.

The picturesque old house on the north side of the street is called Anne of Cleve's House, but this title appears to be contradicted by the date 1599 on the front of the building; there is a possibility that this date was added when certain alterations took place; it is certain, however, that when Thomas Cromwell's time was past the property was made over to the King, of whom a very startling legend is told locally to the effect that he murdered one of his wives on a stairway in the Priory!

The rebuilt church of St. John-sub-castre has its ugliness redeemed in the antiquary's eye by the round Saxon arch retained in the outside wall and by the "Magnus Memorial" as certain stones, bearing a Latin inscription in Anglo-Saxon characters, are called. Here is also a fourteenth century tomb and an old font. The churchyard forms the site of a Roman camp, the vallum of which may still be seen.

St. Thomas-at-Cliffe has several interesting details including an uncommon and elaborate "squint" with two pillars; a modern painting of St. Thomas of Canterbury, patron saint of the church, and an old Dutch representation of the Ascension.

Among the many famous men of Lewes must be mentioned Tom Paine who came here in 1768, marrying in 1771 a daughter of the town named Elizabeth Ollive and in due time succeeding to her father's business of tobacconist. The house has already been noticed, it bears a memorial tablet and also a very quaint carved demon. It is just off the High Street and near St. Michael's Church. Lewes cannot claim the honour of seeing the birth of The Rights of Man (a rather dubious honour in those days); the book was written while Paine stayed with his biographer, Thomas Rickman the bookseller, in London.

Another famous resident of Lewes was John Evelyn, who spent a great part of his schooldays in the Grammer School at Southover. Here also was educated John Pell, the famous mathematician.

A house at the end of the town on the Newhaven road belonged to the Shelleys, and Dr. Johnson once stayed here on his way to the Thrales in Brighton.

The old "Star" Inn has been converted into municipal offices, but the fine front still remains and most of the old work in the interior. In the tower close by, in the Market-place, is "Great Gabriel," a bell dating, it is said, from the time of Henry III. Lower has the following lines on the bells of Lewes:-

"Oh, happy Lewes, waking or asleep,

With faithful hands your time archangels keep!

St. Michael's voice the fleeting hour records,

And Gabriel loud repeats his brother's words;

While humble Cliffites, ruled by meaner power,

By Tom the Archbishop regulate their hour."

It was hereabouts that a great burning of heretics took place in 1557. Among the honoured names recorded upon the Martyr's Memorial is that of Richard Woodman, ironmaster, of Warbleton, whose protests against his pastor's weathercock attitude during the Marian persecutions resulted in the stake. The memorial perpetuates the names of sixteen persons who suffered the fiery death at this time. The consequence is that the zeal of the townsmen on the 5th of November is Orange in its fervour, and the streets are given up to various "fireworks" clubs whose members have been subscribing their spare shillings for months past. Crowds ascend Saxon Down and the surrounding hills to see the display from a distance; still greater crowds throng the streets to watch the destruction in effigy of some unpopular local or national celebrity. Of the Down land walks we have mentioned the most interesting, by reason of its fine views of the town, is to Cliffe Hill. An extension may be made to Saxon Down, a glorious expanse of wind-swept hill; and farther on to the conical Mount Caburn, with magnificent marine views; from this point a descent may be made to Glynde, which will be described presently.

The long street of Cliffe leads northwards to South Malling; here is a conventicle named "Jireh" erected by J. Jenkyns, W.A. These cryptic initials mean "Welsh ambassador." In the cemetery behind is the tomb of William Huntingdon, the evangelist, whose epitaph is as follows:-

"Here lies the coalheaver, beloved of his God, but abhorred of men. The Omniscient Judge at the grand assize shall ratify and confirm this to the confusion of many thousands; for England and her metropolis shall know that there hath been a prophet among them.

"W.H., S.S." (Sinner Saved.)

The evangelist was wont to say "As I cannot get a D.D. for want of cash, neither can I get a M.A. for want of learning, therefore I am compelled to fly for refuge to S.S."

Malling Church is of no interest except perhaps for the fact that John Evelyn laid the foundation stone. At Old Malling once stood a Saxon collegiate church founded by Caedwalla in 688 and therefore one of the first Christian churches erected in Sussex. The Archbishops of Canterbury had a residence near, and in the Memorials of Canterbury Dean Stanley tells how Becket's murderers entered the house and threw their arms on the dining-table, which immediately threw them off; replaced, they were again thrown farther off with a louder crash. One of the knights then suggested that the table refused to bear its sacrilegious burden. This is still a popular local legend.

Ringmer, about two miles to the north-east, is closely connected with Gilbert White; the oft-quoted letter in which he says "I have now travelled the Downs upwards of 30 years, yet I still investigate that chain of majestic mountains with fresh admiration year by year" was written from here. There are several interesting monuments and brasses in the church, especially those to the Springett family.

* * *

Two miles distant from Lewes on the Eastbourne road is Beddingham, whose church shows a medley of styles from Norman to Decorated. About one hundred years ago a discovery was made near the village of a quantity of human remains together with weapons and accoutrements, pointing to the probability of a forgotten battle having taken place in the pass between the hills. A religious house dedicated to St. Andrew is conjectured to have existed at one time in or near the village.

Monkish records relate that a ship hailing from Dunkirk and having on board a monk named Balger was driven into Seaford by a storm. This Balger was of an enterprising turn; making his way inland he helped himself to the relics of St. Lewinna, a British convert, which reposed in St. Andrew's Monastery. The adventures that overtook the relics and their illegal guardian during the journey back to Flanders make up a medieval romance of much interest and throw a curious light on the mental attitude of the religious, as regards the rights of property, during the Dark Ages.

A mile farther along the high road is the turning which leads to Glynde station and village, for which the most pleasant route is over the hills. The name is possibly a Celtic survival and describes the situation between opposing heights. "Glyn" is common throughout the whole of Wales. The church is in a style quite alien to its surroundings and might well belong to Clapham or Bloomsbury. It is a Grecian temple built about 1765 by the then Bishop of Durham, Dr. Trevor, and here the Bishop was buried. There are few more charming groups of cottages in Sussex than this beautiful village. Glynde Place, the seat of a former Speaker of the House of Commons, boasts the largest dairy in Sussex if not in England; between 700 and 800 pounds of butter are made here daily. John Ellman, the famous breeder of Southdown sheep lived here for nearly fifty years (1780-1829.)

A short way farther, on the main road, is a turning to West Firle, on the east of which is the fine Firle Park belonging to the Gage's, a very ancient local family whose tombs and brasses may be seen in the church. The pedestrian is advised to press on to Firle Beacon from which a descent may be made to Alciston (pronounced "Aston") on the high road. The heap of flints on the summit of the Beacon is 718 feet above the sea, and therefore the hill is not so high as it looks, nor is it, as was formerly supposed to be the case, the second highest summit of the Downs. The view is superb both northwards to the Weald and southwards over the Channel. Alciston calls for little comment, the charm of the place consists in its air of remoteness and peace. The small church is partly Norman, and in the walls of Court House Farm are the remains of a religious house. Note the ancient barn and dovecote. A mile to the north is another little hamlet called "Simson," and spelt Selmeston. The curious wooden pillars in the church were fortunately untouched when the building was restored. The old altar slab has five crosses, and there are one or two interesting brasses.

Berwick is a scattered village on the western slopes of the Cuckmere valley; the Early English church is embowered in trees on a spur of the Downs; there is a fine canopied tomb in the chancel, an old screen and an uncommon type of font built in the wall. Note the eloquent epitaph to a former rector.

Half a mile farther is a turning on the right that passes Winton Street, where, a few years ago, there was a rich find of Anglo-Saxon antiquities. In two miles this byway reaches Alfriston. ("All-friston.") The church has a very common legend associated with it; the foundations are said to have been again and again removed by supernatural agency from another site to the spot where the solemn and stately old building now stands. It is a Perpendicular cruciform church and has an Easter sepulchre and three sedilia. The register is said to be the oldest in England, its first entry bearing the date of 1512. "A few years since as many as seventy 'virgins' garlands' hung in Alfriston Church at once" (Hare). Close by is a delightful pre-Reformation clergy house. Antiquaries are perhaps as concerned with the "Star" Inn, one of the most interesting in the south of England and dating from about 1490. The front of the house is covered with quaint carvings including St. George and the Dragon, a bear and ragged staff and what appears to be a lion. On each side of the doorway arc mitred saints conjectured to represent St. Julian and St. Giles. The inn is reputed to have been a place of sanctuary under Battle Abbey; it stands within the abbot's manor of Alciston and was undoubtedly the recognized hostel for pilgrims and mendicant friars. Another old inn, once a noted house of call for smugglers, is Market Cross House, opposite all that remains of the Cross, a mutilated and battered stump, and the only example, except that at Chichester, in the county.

Alfriston once had a race week, the course being on the side of Firle Beacon; in those days the resident population was probably greater than it is now. Not only were more souls crowded into the old houses still standing in the village street but tradition tells that the place was larger and more suited to its spacious old church which is now barely half filled on an ordinary Sunday.

A footpath may be taken over the Cuckmere and up the hill beyond to the little dependency of Lullington. The church calls itself the smallest in Sussex but this depends upon what constitutes a church. The existing building is actually the chancel of a former church, perhaps another proof of a dwindling population.

The winding lane on the eastern bank of the Cuckmere is thick with a glaring white dust on the dry days of summer, but there is no other practicable route to Litlington; where is a quaint and interesting old church with arches formed of the native chalk. This village is growing rather than decaying, and appears to be, in a small way, an asylum for those who have grown weary of the broader highways. It is in a most delightful situation and is even within reach of a morning dip in the sea for those vigorous enough to undertake a three mile walk each way. "Tea" placards nestling among the roses and ivy on the cottage walls also testify its attractions to holiday wayfarers, though the way to Litlington, even for the motor-cyclist, is too strenuous for the village to become overcrowded or vulgar.

The Cuckmere now begins to widen its banks and the theory that the waters once extended from side to side of the valley seems tenable as we view the wide expanse of sedgy swamp through which the present channel has been artificially cut. Cuckmere Haven is the name given to the bay between the last of the "Seven Sisters" and the eastern slopes of Seaford Head which should be ascended for the sake of the lovely view up the valley, seen at its best from this end.

"The only light that suits the tranquillity and tender pathos of the region is that which fills the dimples of the Downs with inexpressibly soft and dreamy expressions, and quickens the plain by revealing the individuality of every blade of grass and plough-turned clod by its own shadow."

(Coventry Patmore.)

Nearly all the villages of the Cuckmere are in sight and make together perhaps the most likely to be remembered of Sussex pictures. It is surprising how little this tranquil vale is known except to the chance visitor from Seaford. When one remembers the much exploited and spoilt beauty spots of Dorset and Devon one feels nervous for the future of these lesser known but equally charming sea-combes of Sussex.

A short distance from the haven a steep gulley leads to the beach with a convenient chain and rope to prevent too sudden a descent. It has been suggested that through this gap the Romans passed from their moored fleets to the fortified settlements above. It was at one time possible to descend by another opening higher up the cliff to a ledge called "Puck Church Parlour." This is now inaccessible except to seabirds. The well-known view of the "Seven Sisters" is taken hereabouts and the disused "Belle Tout" lighthouse stands up well on the western slopes of Beachy Head, looking no distance across the Cuckmere bay.

On the way from Litlington a slight divergence of half a mile or so might have been made to West Dean; this is a most sequestered little hamlet, famous only as the meeting place between the great Alfred and Asser, though some authorities claim the West Dean between Midhurst and Chichester as the authentic spot. There is a Norman arch in the tower of the church and also several canopied tombs and some good stained glass. Here is another priest's house even older than the one we have seen at Alfriston. George Gissing well describes the village and the surrounding country in his novel Thyrza.

A Downland road can be taken from here to Friston, Eastdean and Eastbourne, saving some miles of up and down walking, but the most enjoyable though more strenuous route is by the cliff path from Cuckmere Haven over the "Seven Sisters" cliffs to Beachy Head; a glorious six miles with the sea on one side and the Downs on the other, culminating in the finest headland on the south coast, 575 feet high, the magnificent end of the Downs in the sea. All these cliffs provide nesting-places for wild birds.

"I was much struck by the watchful jealousy with which the peregrines seemed to guard the particular cliff-more than 500 feet from the sea-on a lofty ledge of which their nest was situated, and which, indeed, they evidently considered their especial property; with the exception of a few jackdaws who bustled out of the crevices below, all the other birds which had now assembled on this part of the coast for the breeding season-it being about the middle of May-seemed to respect the territory of their warlike neighbours. The adjoining precipice, farther westward, was occupied by guillemots and razorbills, who had deposited their eggs, the former on the naked ledge, the latter in the crevices in the face of the cliff Here the jackdaws appeared quite at their ease, their loud, merry note being heard above every other sound, as they flew in and out of the fissures in the white rock or sate perched on a pinnacle near the summit, and leisurely surveyed the busy crowd below."

(A.E. Knox.)

At Birling Gap, just short of the Head, is a coast-guard station and the point of departure for the cable to France where we may descend to the coast by an opening which was once fortified. In history Beachy Head (possibly "Beau Chef") is chiefly remembered for the battle between the combined English and Dutch fleets and the French, in which the English admiral did not show to the best advantage.

Before the erection of the Belle Tout Light wrecks off the Head were of frequent occurrence and many are the tales of gallant fight and hopeless loss told by the coast dwellers here. "Parson Darby's Hole" under the Belle Tout is said to have been made by the vicar of East Dean (1680) as a refuge for castaways. We can but hope that his parishioners were as humane, but the probability is that the parson's efforts were looked on askance by his flock, who gained a prosperous livelihood by the spoils of the shore; and perhaps this feeling gave rise to the unkind fable that the cave was made as a refuge from Mrs. Darby's tongue.

"Sussex men that dwell upon the shore

Look out when storms arise and billows roar;

Devoutly praying with uplifted hands

That some well-laden ship may strike the sands.

To whose rich cargo they may make pretence."

(Congreve.)

The fine carriage-road which leaves Beachy Head leads directly into Eastbourne and is called the Duke's Drive. It was owing to the initiative of the grandfather of the present Duke of Devonshire, whose local seat is at Compton Place on the west of the town that the little hamlet of Sea Houses became the present beautiful and fashionable resort, with a sea-front of nearly three miles of gardens backed by hotels, boarding-houses and schools. As at Folkestone, education is here a strong feature, and a few years ago demure files of young ladies with attendant dragon taking the air between breakfast and study might have been seen. The epoch-ending events of the last few years, however, appear to have killed the "caterpillar."

Eastbourne seems to have carefully pushed its workers, together with the gasworks, market gardens, and other utilitarian features round the screen of Splash Point. The boulevards going west and north are full of fine houses and brilliant shops and are lined with well grown trees. The continuation of Terminus Road will take us in a little over a mile to the old town; here is the parish church, mostly Transitional, and with many interesting features which should on no account be missed. Note the oak screen in the chancel; sedilia and piscina; also an Easter sepulchre. There is some old Flemish glass in the east window of the nave aisle; that of the chancel is modern but good. Near the church is a farmhouse, once a priory of Black Friars. The ancient "Lamb Inn" has an Early English crypt which may be seen on application.

The most popular excursion from Eastbourne after "The Head" is to Willingdon, near which is Hampden Park and Wannock Glen, and, farther afield, Jevington. Willingdon has an interesting old church and is pleasantly situated, but the village is too obviously the "place to spend a happy day" to call for further comment. On the other hand, Jevington with its ancient but over-restored church, is quite unspoilt and, lying in one of the most beautiful of the Down combes, should certainly be visited.

We are now at the end of the Downs and the scenery eastwards takes on an entirely different character:-

"The great and fertile plain stretching along the Sussex coast from the eastward of Beachy Head in the direction of Hastings, and inland towards Wartling, Hurstmonceux and Hailsham, now studded with fat beeves, was at some remote era, covered by the sea, and what are known as 'eyes,' or elevations above the surrounding level-such as Chilleye, Northeye, Horseye, Richeye, &c.-must have been islands, forming a miniature archipelago. As all these are of Saxon meaning, it may be presumed that, at the time of the Saxon colonization, they were frequently or constantly insulated."

(Lower.)

Five miles from Eastbourne across the dreary flats of Pevensey Level lies all that remains of the city of Anderida, the headquarters of the Roman "Count of the Saxon Shore" and one of the last strongholds of Rome in Britain. The melancholy tale of the overthrow of ancient civilization in this corner of England by the barbarous Saxon invaders is summed up in the terse words of their own chronicle-"They slew all that dwelt therein, nor was there henceforth one Briton left." The name "Andredes Weald" is derived from the British-An tred-"No houses," and it correctly described the surrounding country at the time of the Roman occupation. The great Weald or forest actually extended from the coast to the Thames valley, broken only by the "Old Road" along the side of the North Downs, traversed by far-off ancestors of ours whose feelings as they gazed fearfully down into the depths of the primeval wood must have been on a plane with those of the earliest African explorers in the land of Pygmies. Here were the very real beginnings of those countless tales of Gnome and Fairy-ferocious tribe and gentle tribe-with which our folk-lore abounds.

As to the existence of a British town here before the coming of the Romans nothing is known, but that Pevensey Bay witnessed the landing of Julius Caesar is tolerably certain, and here the custodians of Britain erected a great stronghold of whose walls we shall see the remnants as we first enter the castle. In 490 Ella besieged the city and, as quoted above, put it to fire and sword in effectual fashion; from this period therefore must be dated the foundations of the South Saxon kingdom. After upwards of five hundred years another conqueror appeared on the old Roman wall. On the twenty-eighth September 1066 William I landed, stumbled and fell, and "clutched England with both hands." Pevensey (Peofn's Island) was given to Robert of Mortain, and he it was who built the massive castle of the "Eagle" which we see rising inside the Roman wall. This name arose from the title "Honour of the Eagle" which was given to de Aquila, holder of the fortress under Henry I. After many changes of owners who included Edward I, Edward III and John of Gaunt, and after being besieged by Stephen against Matilda, by the Barons against Henry III, and by Richard II against Bolingbroke it fell on evil times and was actually sold for forty pounds by the Parliamentary commissioners as building material. The keep is in ruins and the chapel can only be traced in the grassy floor; here may still be seen the old font covered by an iron frame, and the opening of the castle well, in which, as related by Hare, skulls of the wolves which once roamed the great forest have been found.

In connexion with the Norman occupation of Sussex the curious and arbitrary system of "Rapes" by which the county is divided should be noticed. These six blocks of land have no apparent relation to the natural features of the country; each contains a powerful castle to overawe the division to which it belongs. The whole plan is eloquent of the method by which the Norman ruled the conquered race and kept them in subjection.

Pevensey shore is very trying for the pedestrian. The great expanse of shingle is of that drifting variety which makes walking almost an impossibility.

Pevensey church is to the east of the castle; the interior is graceful and it has some interesting details. Note the case of local curiosities, title deeds, etc. Westham, that part of the village nearest the station, was the overflow settlement from the walled town; this has a much finer church with Norman remains dating from the Conqueror's time, and the tower is noble in its massive proportions. Visitors should purchase the interesting little booklet shown on the table within the porch. The church has a fine oak screen in the south chancel and a stone altar with five crosses in the north aisle. Not far away is a large farmhouse known as "Priest-house"; this was once a monastic establishment.

Close to Westham is Pevensey Station, from which the traveller can proceed to Hastings, Rye and Winchelsea; this beautiful and interesting district of Sussex is dealt with in Mr. Bradley's An Old Gate of England, and we must regretfully turn westwards. The return journey to Lewes may be made by the railway, though the Downs, for the unfatigued traveller, should prove the most alluring route. After passing Polegate a good view may be had on the left of the "Long Man of Wilmington" a figure 230 feet in length with a staff in each hand cut in the escarpment of Windover Hill; this is the only prehistoric figure on the Sussex Downs. Its origin has never been satisfactorily explained. Lower has suggested that it was the work of an idle monk of Wilmington. This is most unlikely. The theory has lately been put forward that the "staff" which the figure appears to be holding in each hand is really the outline of a door and that the effigy is that of Balder pushing back the gates of night. Wilmington village has an interesting Norman Church with a very fine yew in the churchyard. Built into the walls of a farmhouse close by are some remains of a Benedictine priory. Beautiful walks into the nearer woodlands of the Weald are easily taken from this pleasant village and the hill rambles toward Jevington are delightful.

Before leaving this district mention must be made of Hurstmonceux. The nearest station is Pevensey, from which there is a rather dull walk of four miles across the Pevensey Levels. The more picturesque route is from Hailsham, though this is longer and belongs more to a tour of the Weald. The only village passed on the way from Pevensey is Wartling, beyond which a footpath can be taken across the meadows with a fine view of the ruins ahead. The present castle was built by Sir Roger de Fiennes in the reign of Henry VI. The name is taken from the first Lord of the Manor, Waleran de Monceux.

The outer shell is all that remains of what was once one of the grandest fortified mansions in England; it is now but a subject for artists and photographers, though at one time, since its dismantling, it made a good secret wine and spirit vaults. The colour of the walls is a surprise until it is realized that the building is of brick. The southern entrance, by which we approach, is the most imposing part of the ruin. We enter by a wooden bridge across the moat; this replaces the drawbridge. In the recessed chamber behind the central arch a ghostly drum was sometimes heard, and the supernatural drummer was supposed to guard hidden treasure. This legend was made good use of by the smuggling fraternity, the thumping of an empty keg being sufficient to scare away inconvenient visitors. Within the walls we are in a wilderness of broken brickwork covered with an enormous growth of ivy. Notice the great oven, and the ruins of the private chapel on the north side. The circuit of the walls should be made as far as is practicable; the magnificent row of Spanish chestnuts is much admired.

The story of the demolition of Hurstmonceux is unhappy reading; the act of vandalism for which the architect Wyatt was officially responsible seems to have been prompted by family spite.

The church is of great interest. The Dacre chantry and the splendid tomb of Thomas Fiennes, Lord Dacre, must be noticed; also a brass of Sir William Fiennes, 1405. The association of the place with the Hares, who are buried under the yew in the churchyard, although of recent date is nevertheless of much interest. The property and the living, which passed in 1855, came to the family through George Naylor of Lincoln's Inn, who bought them in 1708.

Near the church stands a fine fourteenth-century barn. The village is remarkable for a local industry-the making of "trug" baskets for the carriage of fruit.

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The direct route to Brighton for pedestrians is by a footpath which leaves Lewes at the west end of Southover Street; this leads to the summit of Newmarket Hill and thence to the Racecourse and Kemp Town. No villages are passed and but few houses, and the six miles of Down, although so near a great town, are as lonely as any other six in Sussex. The high road leaves the town by the Battlefield road past St.

Anne's church and follows the railway closely until the tram lines on the outskirts of Brighton are reached; this route passes Falmer, north-west of which lies the beautiful Stanmer Park, seat of the Earl of Chichester.

It will be best, however, to take the Newhaven road from Southover which hugs the foot of the Downs and in a short two miles reaches Iford. About half-way a turning to the right leads to the snug little village of Kingston with the hills rising closely all round. This place was once the property of Sir Philip Sidney. The remains of an ancient house belonging to the Priory at Lewes are to be seen in the old farmhouse named Swanborough which lies between Kingston and Iford. The architecture is Perpendicular, and Early English; permission should be obtained to examine the interesting details which, include a venerable oak table in the kitchen. Iford Church is a Norman building with a central tower and an Early English font.

A little over a mile farther is Rodmell with very fine Norman details in the church, which has the rare feature of a baptistery. The early Decorated screen is good; note also the squint with a shaft in the centre. Here is a brass dated 1433 in memory of Agatha Broke, on the back of which is another inscription to some one else of the seventeenth century. The church is surrounded by magnificent trees, and of especial note is the huge holm oak which overshadows the rest. The village inn has on its walls a quaint and amusing collection of precepts for its habitués which might well be duplicated elsewhere. Southease, the next village, has another of the three round towers of Sussex, and Piddinghoe, two miles farther, the third. These towers are a matter of puzzled conjecture to archaeologists; all three, Lewes, Southease and Piddinghoe are on the western bank of the Ouse. The suggestion that they were originally beacon towers is not very convincing, though the Ouse at the time they were built was a wider and deeper stream, forming in fact an estuary haven. The more prosaic explanation is that lack of stone for the quoins, which every square flint tower must have, led the builders to adopt this form. In any case, a beacon fire from a square tower is as effectual as from a round one. Piddinghoe has many associations with the smuggling days which have given birth to some quaint sayings, as "Pidd'nhoo they dig for moonshine,"-"At Pidd'nhoo they dig for smoke," etc., but we fail to see the point in "Magpies are shod at Pidd'nhoo."

Seven miles from Lewes stands the rather mean port of Newhaven. After many years of neglect and decay this Elizabethan sea-gate is once more of great importance in continental traffic. Much money and skill were expended during the latter half of the nineteenth century in improving the harbour and building a breakwater and new quays. Louis Philippe landed here in 1848, having left Havre in his flight from France in the steamer "Express"; he was received by William Catt, who at one time owned the tide mills at Bishopstone; this worthy was a well known Sussex character and is immortalized by Lower. Newhaven has little to show the visitor beyond the small Norman church which has a chancel apse at the east of the tower. This portion is interesting but the nave has suffered from ignorant tinkering under the alias of "restoration." In the churchyard is a monument to those who perished in the wreck of the "Brazen" sloop of war in 1800 off the harbour, and another to a local brewer of the one-time famous "Tipper" ale, made from brackish water. The town was once called Meeching; this name is perpetuated in "Meeching Place" where a descendant of William Catt still lives.

On the east of the Ouse is a much more interesting halt for the tourist in the small village of Bishopstone. The small remains of the tide mills just referred to are near the station. The very fine Norman church is about a mile away on the road to the Downs. The four storied tower is almost unique. Each stage diminishes in size, thus dispensing with buttresses; in this respect it is similar to Newhaven. Notice under the short spire a quaint corbel table. The south porch is extremely interesting as Saxon work though the mouldings are probably later enrichments by Norman workmen. Over the door is a stone dial with a cross and the name EADRIC. The interior is a good example of the change from round to pointed, the pure Norman of the east end gradually changing to Early English at the west. The combination of Norman ornament with the later style is almost unique in Sussex. In the vestry an interesting stone slab is shown; this was discovered during the restoration. It bears the carved presentment of a lamb, a cross, and two doves drinking. At this time a stone coffin lid, and a hidden fourteenth-century niche in the porch were also discovered. In the chancel is a memorial to James Hurdis, formerly Vicar of the parish, the author of The Village Curate, which has been likened to Cowper's Task; the verses are full of shrewd wit and local colour.

One mile south-east is the village of East Blatchington, now a suburb of Seaford; the restored church is Norman and Early English. In the south wall is a curious recess in Decorated style, the real use of which has not yet been discovered. Notice the sedilia and projecting piscina, and the tablet to the memory of the famous aeronaut, Coxwell, who died here in 1900.

Seaford was once an ancient port at the mouth of the Ouse before that river forsook its old channel for the outlet where is now the "New Haven." An important satellite of Hastings and ranking as one of the lesser Cinque ports, the old town saw much history-making during the French wars and suffered accordingly. Its actual foundation dates at least from Roman times as is proved by the fragments of sculpture, coins, etc., dug up at different times during the last two hundred years. At the rear of the East Cliff, near a footpath leading to Chyngton, are traces of a Roman cemetery with possible evidence of earlier British burials.

In the town itself are some interesting though scanty remains of mediaeval times. In the garden of a house named "The Folly" is a vaulted room the origin of which has never been satisfactorily explained. It is possibly part of the Ancient Hospital of St. Leonard. The open space at the higher end of the town is called "The Crouch" a name that is a corruption of "The Crux." The fine old Hardwicke House in Broad Street is dated 1603. At one time it was a lodging-house, but its fortunes have lately risen. Seaford House was once the temporary residence of Tennyson.

Seaford church is dedicated to St. Leonard and is Norman as far as the tower is concerned, of which the embattlement is modern; note the crosses in black flints on three of the sides. The base of the walls of the church date from this period, rising through Transitional to Perpendicular. The detail has been largely spoilt through restoration. Note the capitals of the pillars which are most elaborately worked, that near the south door having a representation of the Crucifixion carved upon it.

Millburgh House was once the property of a noted smuggler named Whitfield, whose immunity from punishment was obtained by judicious presents of choice wines in high quarters. Tales of the old smuggling days would fill many pages, and undoubtedly the profession formed the major commercial asset not only of Seaford but of more important Sussex towns both on the coast and on the roads leading to the capital.

Lower has recorded many interesting facts about the long war between the revenue officers and the natives, relieved at all times by the unfailing humour of the law-breakers, who took a keen delight in fooling the exciseman. It was but infrequently that real tragedy took place; considering the times, and the manner of those times, the records of Sussex are fairly clean. Such brutal murders as that of Chater in 1748, which crime was expiated at Chichester, were rare. The professionals were nearly all men of substance and standing in the land. The marine smuggler was of course a separate breed whose adventures and danger were of a different sort and, despite the glamour of the sea, of much less interest and excitement; on the other hand most of the inhabitants of such places as Alfriston had one or more of the male members of the family engaged in the trade, and many are the houses which still have secret vaults and chambers for the reception of the goods, chiefly wine, brandy, silk and tea. Most of the churches between Seaford and Lewes have at one time or another proved convenient temporary storage places, and on more than one occasion Sunday service has had to be suspended, on one excuse or another, until the building could be cleared of its congregation of tubs. Lower records that at Selmeston the smugglers actually used an altar tomb as a store for spirits, always leaving a tub for the parson.

Seaford in its new r?le as a holiday resort has a serious obstacle to surmount; the only sea "front" possible is a wide shingle beach separated from the old town by a nondescript stretch of sandy desert; when and if this is filled in or converted into a garden the town should prosper exceedingly, for it has great natural attractions in Seaford Head which rises to the east and in the glorious Down walks within easy distance. In actual distance by rail it is, next to Brighton, the nearest South Coast resort to London and without doubt has a successful future before it. It is but little over two miles to the Cuckmere valley past the Roman camp and over the Head. The views of the "Seven Sisters" and on to Beachy Head from this point are very fine, and the great cliff itself, though much lower, is almost as interesting as the Eastbourne height. For one thing the wild life of the precipice is more easily studied, the crowds which on most summer days throng the more popular Head are not met with here. The writer has spent a June morning quite alone but for the myriad birds wheeling around and scolding at his presumption in being there at all.

The route now follows the coast road from Newhaven westwards. From the Portobello coastguard station, four miles from Newhaven Bridge, a road runs across the downs to the beautiful little village of Telscombe, nestling in a secluded combe in the heart of the hills; by-roads and footpaths also lead here by delightful ways from Southease and Piddinghoe. The church is old and interesting, quite unspoilt by any attempt at restoration; note the beautiful font on a marble platform.

Both here and at Rottingdean the artificial height of the churchyard above the surrounding land will be noticed. Cobbett's explanation for this is the obvious but rather gruesome one that dust added to dust has more than doubled the contents of the consecrated ground. From the comparative heights of the enclosure the author of Rural Rides reckoned the age of the building, a method which made a greater appeal to him than the rule of Norman round or English point.

Rottingdean has lately made a name for itself by reason of its modern literary associations. Its connexion with William Black and Rudyard Kipling is well known. Cardinal Manning and Bulwer Lytton both attended a once celebrated school kept here by Dr. Hooker. Edward Burne-Jones has left a lasting memorial of his association with the place in the beautiful east window of the church which was designed and presented by the artist. Certain columns in the walls point to the existence of a Saxon building of which these are the remains. Notice the effect of the tower in its unusual position between chancel and nave.

The village has a deserved place in the national history, as the following account will show:-

"In 1377 Hastings was burnt by the French, who also attempted to burn Winchelsea, but were foiled. They also attacked Rye, where they landed from five vessels. After plundering and setting it on fire they went away, leaving the town desolate. They landed at Rottingdean, advanced over the Downs with the design of laying waste Lewes, but in this were disappointed by the valour of John de Cariloce, Prior of Lewes, Sir Thomas Cheney, Constable of Dover Castle, Sir John Falsley, and others, who upon apprisal of it, hastened their vassals, and were joined by a number of peasantry, who boldly ascended the Downs, resolved to repel the invaders. They were insufficient both in number and skill to cope with the well-trained troops of France. The brave peasantry were totally routed, but not till one hundred of their party had sacrificed their lives, and the Prior and the two knights had been made prisoners. The loss which the French had sustained prevented further encroachments, and they returned to their ships with their prisoners, who were conducted to France."

That Rottingdean was known and appreciated over one hundred years ago will come as a surprise to many. The following account appeared in the Gentleman's Magazine, 1801:-

"The pleasant and delightful village of Rottingdean is situated on the Newhaven Road, at the distance of nearly four miles from Brighthelmstone, a popular watering place. This place is no otherwise remarkable than for its wells, which are nearly empty at high water, but which rise as the tide declines. This little village has of late been the resort of a considerable number of genteel company, for which bathing-machines and every accommodation have been provided. Here are a variety of lodging houses, a good inn, with convenient stables, coach-houses, etc. It is most frequented by such families as prefer a little retirement to the bustle and gaiety of Brighthelmstone, and who occasionally may wish to mix with the company there, for which its situation renders it at any time perfectly convenient. The road from Rottingdean to Brighthelmstone is delightfully pleasant in the summer season. On one side you have an extensive view of the sea, and on the other the Downs, covered with innumerable flocks of sheep, so justly held in estimation for their delicious flavour."

About two and a half miles from Rottingdean in a lonely dene surrounded by the Downs is the little hamlet of Balsdean; there is nothing to see here but a building locally called "The Chapel" (the architecture is Decorated, with an ancient thatched roof) but the walk will give the stranger to the district a good idea of the solitude and unique characteristics of the chalk hills. The curious T-shaped cuttings still to be seen in the sides of the Downs may be remarked; these are where the traps set to catch wheatears were set. A great trade was once done by the Downland peasantry in these "Sussex Ortolans," as they were called, but of late years the demand has dwindled to vanishing point.

The lover of the picturesque will feel grateful to the powers who refuse to destroy the deserted windmills which stud the Downs and of which there is one good example near here. One cannot suppose however that the object of letting them stand is other than utilitarian; after a long life of service in their original capacity these daylight beacons perform the duty of landmarks for seamen in the Channel.

A footpath from Rottingdean just a mile long crosses the Downs to Ovingdean, another lonely hamlet without inn or shop. An ancient church, possibly Saxon in part, and a few houses hidden by trees make a goal of a favourite walk from Brighton. Harrison Ainsworth has made the little place famous in "Ovingdean Grange," in which romance the novelist makes it one of the scenes in the flight of Charles II; this however is incorrect, as it is certain that Brighton was the limit of the royal fugitive's journey eastwards. The large building on the hill above Ovingdean is Roedean College for girls; its fine situation and imposing size make it a landmark, and the seascape from its windows must be unrivalled.

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