HASTINGS.
We took a fly and driver from the principal hotel of Battle, and drove
off for Hastings, about seven miles distant. Hastings is now a famous
watering and sea-bathing place, and seems to be well sheltered from the
winds, though open to the sea, which here stretches off towards France.
We climbed a high and steep hill, terraced round its base with streets of
modern lodging-houses, and crowned on its summit with the ruins of a
castle, the foundation of which was anterior to the Conquest. This
castle has no wall towards the sea, the precipice being too high and
sheer to admit of attack on that side. I have quite exhausted my
descriptive faculty for the present, so shall say nothing of this old
castle, which indeed (the remains being somewhat scanty and scraggling)
is chiefly picturesque and interesting from its bold position on such a
headlong hill.
Clambering down on another side from that of our ascent, we entered
the town of Hastings, which seems entirely modern, and made up of
lodging-houses, shops, hotels, parades, and all such makings up of
watering-places generally. We took a delightful warm bath, washing off
all weariness and naughtiness, and coming out new men. Then we walked to
St. Leonard's,--a part of Hastings, I believe, but a mile or two from the
castle, and there called at the lodgings of two friends of Bennoch.
These were Mr. Martin, the author of Bon Gaultier's ballads, and his
wife, the celebrated actress, Helen Faucett.
Pages:
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451