completeness was, practically, a little town. From
east to west its walls measured 206-1/2 feet, from north to south,
214-1/4; within them on the ground floor were larders, laundries, a
brewhouse, a bakehouse, cellars, a dairy, offices, a guard room,
pantries, a distillery, a confectionery room, a chapel, and, beneath, a
dungeon. Between these were four open courts. Upstairs, round three
sides of the Green Court, were the Bird Gallery, the Armour Gallery, and
the Green Gallery, and lords' apartments and ladies' apartments "capable
of quartering an army," to quote a writer on the subject. On each side
of the entrance, gained by a drawbridge, was a tower--the Watch Tower
and the Signal Tower.

In the reign of Elizabeth a survey of Hurstmonceux was taken, which
tells us that in the park were two hundred deer, "four fair ponds"
stocked with carp and tench, a "fair warren of conies," a heronry of 150
nests, and much game. The de Fiennes, or Dacres as they became, had also
a private fishery in Pevensey Bay, seen from the Watch Tower as a strip
of blue ribbon.

In addition Hurstmonceux had a ghost, who inhabited the Drummers' Hall,
a room between the towers over the porter's lodge, and sent forth a
mysterious tattoo. Sometimes he left his hall, this devilish musician,
and strode along the battlements drumming and drumming, a terrible
figure nine feet high. Most people were frightened, but there were those
who said that the drummer was nothing more nor less than a gardener in
league with the Pevensey smugglers, whose notes, rattled out on the
parchment, rolled over the marsh and gave them the needful signal.

[Sidenote: THE UNFORTUNATE LORD DACRE]

Hurstmonceux once had a very real tragedy. The third Lord Dacre, one of
the young noblemen who took part in the welcoming of Ann of Cleves when
she landed in England preparatory to her becoming the wife of Henry
VIII., was so foolish one night in 1541 as to accompany some of his
roystering companions to the adjacent park of Sir Nicholas Pelham, near
Hellingly, intent on a deer-stealing jest. There three gamekeepers rose
up, and a bloody battle ensued in which one John Busbrig bit the dust.
Pelham was furious and demanded justice, and Lord Dacre, though he had
taken no part in the fray, was held responsible. Three of his friends
were hanged at Tyburn, and, in spite of all the influence that was
brought to bear, he also was executed. The next Dacre of importance
married the Lady A