fresh breezes from the sea on this pleasant and bracing coast.
Out at sea, opposite the Parade, vessels built in the busy shipyards on
the Tyne may be seen doing their speed trials over the measured mile.
The Peace of St. Oswyn may, in fact, be said to brood over Tynemouth,
even in these days, for it is an increasing custom for those who can do
so to remain in Newcastle and other busy centres of toil only during
business hours, and to leave workshop and office every evening for their
home by the sea: while the tide of noisy, happy, boisterous
excursionists has rolled on to Whitley Bay, leaving Tynemouth to its
old-time sleepy content. Northward to Hartley and Seaton Sluice the
cliffs are very fine. Hartley, with its bright-looking red-tiled houses,
once belonged to Adam of Gesemuth (Jesmond) who lived in the reign of
King John. Coming down to modern times, about thirty years ago a gallant
Hartley man, Thomas Langley, rescued two successive shipwrecked crews on
the same day, in one case allowing himself to be lowered over the cliffs
at a terrible risk in the furious storm.

Seaton Sluice belongs to the ancient family of the Delavals, whose
house, Delaval Hall, may be seen not far away, peeping from amongst the
trees which surround it. Seaton Sluice owes its name to the Delaval who
placed the large sluice gates upon the burn, in order to have a strong
current which, in rushing down to the sea, would be able to wash the
mouth of the stream clear from the silt and mud brought in by the
incoming tide. A later baronet, Sir John Hussey Delaval, made the
cutting through the solid rock which is so striking a feature of the
harbour. It was ready for the entrance of vessels in March, 1763.

Delaval Hall is now owned by Lord Hastings, the present representative
of the Delavals, which family became extinct in the male line early in
the nineteenth century. The last Delaval, a very learned man, was buried
in Westminster Abbey in 1814. The Hall was built for Admiral Delaval in
1707 to the design of Sir J. Vanbrugh, who also designed Blenheim
Palace, given by the nation to the great Duke of Marlborough about the
same time.

Hartley Colliery, about half a mile away, has a sad interest as being
the scene of the terrible accident in 1862, when a number of men and
boys were imprisoned in the workings owing to the blocking up of the
only shaft by a mass of debris, caused by the fall of an iron beam
belonging to the pumping engine at the p