A road, for the most part 'straight and dull as one in France, leads from Rye to Winchelsea, 34 miles. In the Salt Marshes, and almost midway, but half a mile distant from the road, is Camber [the harbour] Castle, one of the coast forts of Henry VIII., built 1538. It cost 23,000l., and is composed of a central round keep, with circular bastions, and small curtains. It was dismantled, as useless for defence, in 1642, although a century before its walls had been washed by the sea. Three miles to the southeast of the present hamlet, where the sea now covers its ruins, stood the ancient town of

WINCHELSEA (Corner-Isle),

population in 1851, 778. King Edward the Confessor gave the town, together with Rye, to the Abbey of Fécamp; they were, however, incorporated as Cinque Ports by one of the early Plantagenet kings. The site was a low island on a sandy flat, around which, except upon the west side-the only land approach-lay a wild waste of waters. On the south and east lay the British Channel; on the north flowed the Rother. On Dec. 7, 1063, King William landed here; and in Dec. 1170, two knights, on their way to Saltwood Castle to plot the death of the primate à Becket. In 1188 Henry II disembarked here from Normandy. In 1229, so flourishing in trade and powerful was Winchelsea, that it furnished a contingent of no less than 10 out of the 57 ships which composed the Cinque Ports' navy. Rye only gave three, and Hastings five, sail.

The most dreadful storms are on record during the early part of the 13th century: the sea fiercely set in upon the walls, but the sailors of Winchelsea had become notorious for their piracies, and the old legends aver that tempest and flood fought against the guilty town. The civil wars and dissensions had left these terrible marauders free to plunder and sink every peaceful ship that sailed by, leaving no babblers to tell the tale. So it fell that as evening closed one fatal day, October 1,

1250, a small galley came onward to the shore, laden with pilgrims to the glorious shrine of St. Thomas à Becket, in the "Martyrdom" of Canterbury. The banner of the Cross floated from the masthead, the standard of the Saint waved over the bow, and the solemn vesper hymn rose from the crowded decks, when, with fierce shouts, two large ships bore down upon the devoted galley. Once more the waves rang with the horrible shrieks of the dying; an empty vessel burned on the waters, and the gold and the gems, and splendid offerings were wasted to provide the wine-cup and orgies for the pirates of Winchelsea. But that night the song was hushed, and the rude merriment silenced by a sound more awful than mortal ear ever heard. Blood-red and swollen, the moon upon her change betokened the coming tempest; then the sea left its courses and flowed twice without ebbing, and it roared so loud that, miles away inland, man and wild beast trembled; for the thunder was but as a child's whisper in comparison. In the dark gloom that fell at midnight the broad ocean burned with a lurid light, as if on fire, and the whitecrested billows rose up and, after a marvellous manner, smote one against another, like war-horses under men striving for the mastery. It seemed to be the break of the great day of doom come at last. Then along the face of the sea swept a voice of wailing, and of forty men and more the ghastly spectres of the dead were seen rising from the depths. The cry was to repentance and restitution, and all knew it was the boding call, the "warning of the Woes." Before morning 300 houses and several churches were lying under the avenging waves.

Time passed on, and the men of Winchelsea, in the presence of the King, May 8, 1264, refused to lend him aid, and declared for De Montfort, who was here, June 14, 1265, inviting over foreign troops. But, on the death of the earl on August 4 in that year, Prince Edward took the town by assault, with such slaughter, that Winchelsea never fully recovered the chastisement. In vain he commanded the bold and desperate pirates, who were the scourge and fear of the coast, to desist from their lawless

practices; and a severe defeat by the men of Fowey was of no more effect. On the eve of St. Agatha, February 4, 1287, was heard once more "the Warning of the Woes" over the haunted seas; but there was no voice of the winds, for, silently rolling in, the great waters of the sea gathered over street and quay, dwelling-house and church; and before morning, from Clivesden (Cliff's End, Pett) to the voucher of Hythe, all the fair lands were drowned, as centuries ago was the district of Lionesse.

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The final inundation had been foreseen. In 1252 there had been a disastrous sea-flood, attended with great loss of life, and in 1254 the trees were bare of leaves, and the wheat harvest was not reaped because the brine lay so thick upon the land. Edward I., on his visit, in 1276, to Winchelsea (the birthplace of Robert, who became the primate in 1295, during Edward's reign), saw plainly that its ruin was inevitable. He therefore directed Bishop Kirkby, the lord treasurer, to select a site for a new town; and he chose the rock of Higham, then a mere rabbit-warren, but two miles in circuit. On the east and north lay the sea; on the south a road led to Fairlight; on the north-west was a ferry towards Udimore. During six or seven years the walls were gradually built the streets were broad and large, straight as a line, and crossed at right angles; there were eight principal highways, and the houses were set in 30 squares or quarters, each of 2 acres. Four gateways formed the entrances of the town, and in the centre rose the magnificent church of St. Thomas à Becket. On the south-west side was a castle adjoining St. Leonard's church; and there were in addition the chapels and convents of the Franciscans, St. Anthony, the Black Friars, and the church of St. Giles. King Edward, who had a hunting-seat at Newenden, came to his new harbour and town, then the Portsmouth of England, for the purpose of inspecting his fleet. As the king rode by the earthwork near the Strand Gate, his horse, startled by the noise of a windmill, and rendered fiery by whip and spur, sprang over the bulwark. The crowds, assembled on horse and a-foot to see the King,

imagined that he was crushed by the fall; but before they could recover from their amazement, he was quietly reentering by the gate, the road below having been softened into mud through heavy rains.

King Edward III. lodged in the Friary, and embarked here in 1350; and on August 29 he won a great sea-fight over the Spanish fleet, laden with rich Flemish cloth, under the eyes of Philippa, and an anxious multitude, who watched the fight from the hills. Six-and-twenty ships were taken, and great was the slaughter among the enemy; for the Spaniards would not yield, but chose to die on the point of the sword, or were drowned in the sea. In 1359, 8,000 Frenchmen landed, fired the town, and slew many of the inhabitants assembled in the great church during the celebration of mass; the number of their victims who were carried down to their graves at St. Giles's, gave name to Dead Man's Lane. On March 15, 1360, S. Paul, with 120 sail, and 20,000 men, ravaged Rye and Winchelsea. Edward III. disembarked here October 6, 1372. On June 29, 1377, the Frenchmen, landing from five vessels, burned and sacked Rye; and during five hours the flames of the town could be seen far along the coast. But in Winchelsea watched Haymo de Offington, the brave Abbot of Battle, with his men-at-arms; and he gallantly withstood all the taunts of the enemy, replying to them that he was a priest, and stood there not to challenge but to defend. In 1379 Rye and Hastings were burned, and Winchelsea was taken by the French under John de Vienne; again in 1380, by the Spaniards, who landed at Fairlight; and for the last time Rye and Winchelsea were burned by the French in 1449. In the reign of Henry VI. Winchelsea was the chief port of embarkation for the Continent.

These constant forays had impoverished the town, and diverted its trade; its religious houses were dissolved; and the sea began to recede. In 1573 Elizabeth passed through the place; it was apparently so prosperous that she called it "Little London," but refused to open or improve the harbour; whilst she warned the scarlet-clad

magistrates that all this splendour would depart with the sea-a doom foreshadowed by the legend on their seal. In 1690, H. M. S. "Anne" was burned at sea off this bay. Manufactories of crape and cambric have been established and failed. Winchelsea, which returned two members from 42 Edw. III., till 2 Will. IV., c. 45, now forms only part of an electoral district. Lord Brougham was M.P. for the borough, 1815-1830. Though the corn-field grows over the buried street, and the plough-share grates on the walls of the upper floors of ancient houses, the borough has been contested at no slight cost. Colonel Draper spent 11,000l. on a single election, and lost it; his opponent, Sir John Banks, having a larger fortune, insured his success.

Winchelsea is now a mere country village, with houses round two sides of the principal quarter; and one small square with a few cottages; yet how picturesque is the wreck,-how venerable are the ruins! There is not another spot like this in England: along the fields may be traced the lines of demolished streets, and one still sees a fragment of the old tower of St. Leonards, on which once glittered the magic vane which loving hands turned, believing it would make the favourable breeze to blow, and restore to them the dear ones far off upon the sea. There are ruins of crypt and vault, in which were stored the wines of France, and the richest wares and merchandise of the Continent; some gaping among fields, some lying beneath floors, from which the upper fabric has long disappeared. These cellars were once to England what the London Docks are now. They have plain barrel vaults of ragstone, with arched ribs, like the crypt under the altar platform of the church, and of the time of Edward I.; one is 50 ft. long by 18 ft., and 12 ft. high. Near the New Gate is a gable end, with a doorway of the fourteenth century, and near the Land Gate is the lower story of two old houses, while the upper story is of wood, covered with tiles. The Town Hall and gaol, on the north side of the church square, are of the fourteenth century, and form a mutilated, but interesting, remnant of a fine structure.