andfather of Sir Philip.

Salehurst, just across the river from Robertsbridge, has a noble church,
standing among trees on the hill side--the hill which Walpole found so
precipitous. Within, the church is not perhaps quite so impressive as
without, but it has monuments appertaining probably to the Culpepers,
once a far-reaching aristocratic Sussex family, which we met first at
Ardingly, and which is now extinct or existent only among the peasantry.

[Illustration: _Bodiam Castle._]

[Sidenote: BODIAM CASTLE]

The first station on the Rother valley light railway is Bodiam, only a
few steps from Bodiam Castle sitting serenely like a bird on the waters
of her moat. This building in appearance and form fulfils most of the
conditions of the castle, and by retaining water in its moat perhaps
wins more respect than if it had stood a siege. (Local tradition indeed
credits it with that mark of active merit, but history is silent.) It
was built in the fourteenth century by Sir Edward Dalyngruge, a hero of
Cressy and Poictiers. It is now a ruin within, but (as Mr. Griggs'
drawing shows) externally in fair preservation and a very interesting
and romantic spectacle.

Below Bodiam is Ewhurst, and a little farther east, close to the Kentish
border, Northiam. Ewhurst has no particular interest, but Northiam is a
village apart. Knowing what we do of Sussex speech we may be certain
that Northiam is not pronounced by the native as it is spelt. Norgem is
its local style, just as Udiham is Udgem and Bodiam Bodgem. But though
he will not give Northiam its pleasant syllables, the Northiam man is
proud of his village. He has a couplet:

Oh rare Northiam, thou dost far exceed
Beckley, Peasmarsh, Udimore and Brede.

Northiam's superiority to these pleasant spots is not absolute; but
there are certain points in which the couplet is sound. For example,
although Brede Place has no counterpart in Northiam, and although beside
Udimore's lovely name Northiam has an uninspired prosaic ring, yet
Northiam is alone in the possession of Queen Elizabeth's Oak, the tree
beneath which that monarch, whom we have seen on a progress in West
Sussex, partook in 1573 of a banquet, on her way to Rye. The fare came
from the kitchen of the timbered house hard by, then the residence of
Master Bishopp. During the visit her Majesty changed her shoes, and the
discarded pair is still treasured at Brickwall, the neighbouring seat of
the Frewens, the gr