Horace Walpole gives an amusing account of his experiences. He says in one letter, dated August, 1749 :

:

"We are returned from our expedition miraculously well, considering all our distresses. If you love good roads, good inns, plenty of postilions and horses, be so kind as never to go to Sussex-Sussex is a great damper of curiosity."

In another letter, dated August, 1752, he says:

"We lay at Tunbridge town. The inn was full of farmers and tobacco; and the next morning, when we were bound for Penshurst, the only man in the town who had two horses would not let us have them, because the roads, as he said, were so bad. We were forced to send to the Wells for others, which did not arrive till half the day was spent. We went to Lamberhurst to dine; near which, that is, at the distance of three miles, up and down impracticable hills, in a most retired vale, we found the ruins of Bayham Abbey. Here our woes increased: the roads grew bad beyond all badness; the night dark beyond all darkness; our guide frightened beyond all frightfulness. However, without being all killed, we got up, or down-I forget which, it was so dark-a famous precipice called Silver Hill, and about ten at night arrived at a wretched village, called Rotherbridge. We had still six miles hither, but determined to stop. Alas! There was only one bed to be had, all the rest were inhabited by smugglers. We did not at all take to this society, so, armed with links and lanthorns, set out again upon this impracticable journey. At two o'clock in the morning we got hither to a still worse inn, and that crammed with excise officers, one of whom had just shot a smuggler. However, as we were neutral powers, we have safely passed through both armies hitherto, and can give you a little further history of our wandering through these mountains, where the young gentlemen are forced to drive their curricles with a pair of oxen."

It is said that John Wesley's work in Sussex was much hindered by the terrible state of the roads. With a pair of good horses, on a journey from Rye to Sevenoaks, he managed, "but with great difficulty," to get through fifteen miles in five hours.

It was the introduction of turnpike gates by which tolls could be levied under private Acts of Parliament, that the much needed roads were supplied. These were chiefly passed between 1756 and 1780. In 1840, out of 53 turnpike trusts, the roads in 36 were in good repair, in 12 they were in tolerable repair; in four only they were in bad repair, and one was under indictment. When the question of a turnpike road was discussed at a Mayfield vestry meeting,* there was a great outcry at the idea, and one farmer present declared it

* Turnpike accounts for the years 1815-34 are in the parish chest.

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would be absurd to have a hard smooth road, because, "how could a broad wheel wagon stand upright if it had no ruts to go in? Slowly, very slowly, did the roads improve, though now, except for the hills, they are all that can be desired. An old inhabitant of Mayfield, Miss Stone, who died in 1883 aged 92, was fond of telling the story of her return from school at Lewes for the Christmas holidays. The only practicable way was by riding on horseback on a pillion behind her father's groom. She was holding on to his leather belt, but at one very bad place the horse struggled so hard that she was jerked off into the mud. The man was rather deaf, and neither heard her call, nor missed her for a short time. At length he turned back, to find she had managed to reach the bank; but with the loss of one of her shoes, which had completely disappeared in the mire, and could not be found. It is also a fact that so late as 1818 Bishop Buckner advised a clergyman whom he had ordained in the November of that year, as the curate of Waldron, to lose no time in going there; for in the course of a very short time he would find it impossible to do so.

Even as late as the middle of the last century, the only route from Mayfield to Tunbridge Wells was by Fletching Street, Coggins Mill, and Lake Street to Mark Cross. Then, a way hitherto only used for the iron-works, through Old Place Farm, across the Furnace stream by the Old Furnace House, and so into Lake Street, was made a turnpike road, a bridge over the stream not being considered a necessity. A short cut was afterwards made, without regard to its steepness, from Old Place Farm to the top of the Furnace Wood (the so-called Old Tunbridge Wells road past Pennybridge), an undertaking which gave employment at the time to a number of people out of work.

Along both these roads (unless, as sometimes happened, their state was such that the service was perforce suspended) stage coaches frequently passed.

In 1833 the present road which avoids the valley, was constructed, from the vicarage gate to Argos Hill. Here it joined an already existing one from Butcher's Cross to Mark Cross. Prior to this, the route from Mayfield to Rotherfield was along what is now called Rotherfield Lane, and over the west side of Argos Hill.

Of the eight known British roads, but one entered Sussex. This was the Ermin Street, which stretched from the south-west of Scotland to London, where it divided into two branches. The most westerly went by Dorking, Stone Street and Pulborough to Chichester. There is more doubt as to the exact route of the eastern branch.

Dr. Stukely believed it passed through Croydon, East Grinstead, Isfield, and Lewes ; but according to the last commentator on the Antonine Itinerary, it entered the county at Tunbridge Wells, and passed through Wadhurst and Mayfield, to Eastbourne and Pevensey. This route corresponds with the line of road marked out in Bertram's ancient map. These so-called roads must have been of the most rude description, probably mere cleared tracks; it remained for the Romans to transform some of them into the splendid highways for which they were justly famous; and the earlier Roman roads doubtless followed the lines already made, and were given Roman names.*

* A coin of the Emperor Constantine the Great was dug up some years ago at the foot of the old tower of the convent.

CHAPTER II.

SHUT off from other parts of the country for centuries by an almost impenetrable forest, isolated until quite recent times on account of bad roads, the Sussex people mingled little with the inhabitants of other counties-of the "Shires "- —as almost all the rest of England is designated by them, as opposed to Kent and Sussex, where also it is no uncommon thing to hear a man from another part called a "foreigner." Thus it is scarcely surprising to find that not merely words, but customs, ways of thought, and superstitions have been handed down from generation to generation, and even yet linger among us.

Mayfield is one of the few places where the curfew bell has, it is believed, been continued from Norman times until within a few years ago. The earliest churchwardens' accounts show payments for ringing “ye eight o'clock bell"; and although they only take us back to 1725, they prove its continuance was no modern revival.

The practice of "going a-gooding," or asking for doles on St. Thomas's Day, has much declined of late years, but a few of the old women continue to make their round, even if their harvest of small coin be not so large as of yore. One parishioner in good circumstances made it a habit to put aside all fourpenny pieces received as change for "gooding-day" until his death about the time that coin was withdrawn from circulation, and none who came to him went empty-handed away.

The white "smocks," or round frocks, worn by bearers at funerals are rarely seen now. They were of finer stuff than those for work-a-day uses, and were kept for the purpose. They were used at the funeral of Mr. John Hughes of Skippers Hill in 1893. The bearers usually attended service on the Sunday after a funeral, wearing the white smocks, and long streamers of crape on their hats. Smock-frocks, usually of grey or green linen, adorned with beautiful stitchery, and rows of coloured glass buttons, were, twenty or thirty years ago, always worn on Sundays by working men, who nearly

filled the north aisle. This seems always to have been set apart for men, and no women were ever to be seen in that part of the church.

Stoolball, an old Sussex game, has been much revived of late in the county; and Mayfield boasts its stoolball club. It is played by girls, and is similar to cricket, the chief difference being that a round bat is held up against a wicket board one foot square, on a post between four and five feet in height. Tradition says it was originally played by milkmaids, holding up their stools for wickets, hence its name. Another name for the game was "bittle-battle " milk bowl, bat, a piece of wood).

(bittle, a wooden

Does anyone now-a-days know the meaning of "pocket pieces"? They were pieces of money, usually presented by the elders to the juniors, not for spending, but to be kept, so that they "might never be without money in their pockets." Thus I have my great-grandfather's pocket piece, a crown of William and Mary, which never left his pocket during all the years he lived at Mayfield. Also I have some spade guineas, which were given to some great-great-aunts by their father. These were found on the death of the survivor of them wrapped up in paper, and each one endorsed "Pocket piece given by my father," with the name of the owner.

The barbarous custom of cock-throwing on Shrove Tuesday, supposed to have died out in the eighteenth century, has been indulged in, in his youth, by many a man now living, and the graphic description of the sport (?) given us by one old man, led us to infer he would much enjoy taking part in it again, had he the opportunity. Would that the custom of squirrel-hunting on Good Friday were also numbered among the things of the past!

"Good Friday bread" is still baked (or was so not long ago). This is made, as its name infers, on Good Friday, and is shaped into balls, and slowly baked until hard throughout. It is then pounded, and used throughout the year as a remedy for various ailments.

The belief in charms has probably not survived universal education, but I remember a woman offering to charm away a wart for me when I was a child. There was a certain charm for "axey" or ague; part of its virtue consisted in the words being written on a three-cornered piece of paper, to be worn round the neck until it dropped off; while a charm for burns was a rhyme to be repeated three times. House-leek on a roof was held to protect the building from lightning. I have seen in a shop at Brighton amber necklaces labelled " a cure for asthma." Is this the twentieth century belief

in charms?

Mrs. Barclay of Sunny Bank was once advised by an old man to