th rough-wrought bow and spear,
Now seen, now hid, they rise and disappear,
Lost in the gloom again.

Soft on the dew-fall damp
Scarce sounds the measured tramp
Of bronze-mailed sentinels,
Dark on the darkened fells
Guarding the camp.

The Roman watch-fires glow
Red on the dusk; and harsh
Cries a heron flitting slow
Over the valley marsh
Where the sea-mist gathers low.

Closer, and closer yet
Draweth the night's dim net
Hiding the troubled dead:
No more to see or know
But a black waste lying below,
And a glimmering blank o'erhead.

Of Newhaven there is little to say, except that in rough weather the
traveller from France is very glad to reach it, and on a fine day the
traveller from England is happy to leave it behind. In the churchyard is
a monument in memory of the officers and crew of the _Brazen_, which
went down off the town in 1800, and lost all hands save one.

[Sidenote: A SUSSEX MILLER]

On the way to Seaford, which is nearly three miles east, sheltering
under its white headland (a preliminary sketch, as one might say, for
Beachy Head), we pass the Bishopstone tide mills, once the property of a
sturdy and prosperous Sussex autocrat named William Catt, the grower of
the best pears in the county, and the first to welcome Louis Philippe
(whom he had advised on milling in France) when he landed at Newhaven in
exile. A good story told of William Catt, by Mr. Lower, in his _Worthies
of Sussex_, illustrates not only the character of that sagacious and
kindly martinet, but also of the Sussex peasant in its mingled
independence and dependence, frankness and caution. Mr. Catt, having
unbent among his retainers at a harvest supper, one of them, a little
emboldened perhaps by draughts of Newhaven "tipper," thus addressed his
master. "Give us yer hand, sir, I love ye, I love ye," but, he added,
"I'm danged if I beant afeared of ye, though."

[Illustration: _Southover Grange._]

There was a hermitage on the cliff at Seaford some centuries ago. In
1372 the hermit's name was Peter, and we find him receiving letters of
protection for the unusual term of five years. In the vestry of the
church is an old monument bearing the riddling inscription: "... Also,
near this place lie two mothers, three grandmothers, four aunts, four
sisters, four daughters, four grand-daughters, three cousins--but VI
persons." A record in the Sea