better. But the design of the West Villa, it will also be seen, underwent no alteration.
Death of Mr Deudney - The town beadle - Pedestrianism - Etc.
Turning to more personal matters, I find I have a record of the death of Mr. Charles Deudney, the respected occupier of Gensing farm. He died on the 19th of September, 1829, at the age of 69 and was interred in a vault at Bexhill. This gentleman lived to see the commencement of St. Leonards, and was one of the few - very few - residents of the parish at a time when some half a dozen houses constituted the whole of the dwellings between Government House, Hastings and the inn known as the "New England Bank" at Bopeep.
Soon after the erection of the East Lodge or Archway, its miniature rooms on the south side were occupied by a town beadle and crier named Harman. Like another important personage in the domains of Bumbledom, it was Harman's lot to encounter not a few of the rougher sort of vagrants, and on one occasion he felt that he had more than his match in the endeavour to get a half drunken itinerant to the lock-up. The said lock-up was at the Mercatoria, but a very different building from the present near the same site. A certain milkman - who was always good for something out of the common way - came by at the time with a truck, and was importuned to assist. In the twinkling of an eye the truck was shunted against the man's legs, and his body was pulled back upon the truck by a couple of strong arms. That part of the Marina now known as the South Colonnade was then erected, and the Undercliff was in progress. The contractors for the former were Messrs. Amos and Vine. The roadway between these two places was at that time a mass of deep mire; and as the tipsy man was ill at ease upon his carriage, and struggled with the milkman and beadle, his would-be conquerors tipped him over onto a softer bed - a bed of slush. Thus be-slubbed, the beggar was more than ever unfit to handle, and this immmunity gave him a quid-pro-quo for the unceremonious treatment to which he had been subjected. He had, doubtless, been escorted out of the old town to the Priory Bridge by "Calf's nose" Chatfield or his fellow beadle, to find, to his annoyance, that the beadledom of the new town was no improvement on that of the old. Apropos of Chatfield, I now recollect seeing him lie dead under the Elms at Hastings, on or about the 13th of May, 1829, where he had fallen in an apoplectic fit, while conducting a vagrant out of town. I am not at all sure, therefore, that he had anything to do with despatching the troublesome vagrant from Hastings to St. Leonards.
In a previous portion of this History, I described the St. Leonards Hotel as having had during its early existence, a Tap in the basement of the building, the said Tap being kept by "Charley" Vine. I also related a daring act of smuggling, which took place in front of the hotel on an October morning of 1830, and I further stated that certain spirituous liquors known as contraband did occasionally find their way into the Tap of even such a well-regulated establishment as that which is now the Royal Victoria Hotel. The law-abiding citizen of the present day need not wonder at this when he is reminded that at a period of even less than sixty years ago almost every non-Government man on the southern coast, from the peasant to the parson, was either a smuggler or an accessory, and regarded the clandestine importation of spirits subject to heavy dues and duties as a justifiable evasion of fiscal restrictions which ought never to have been imposed.Among those who were practically engaged in the "running" of smuggled goods were men of nimble feet, who with a pair of "tubs" slung over their shoulders, would frequently out-distance their pursuers, with a chuckle of "No catchee, no havee!" One of these fleet-runners was well known to me, and If I chose, I could narrate some of his exploits which, now after Weston and others have publicly shown what trained pedestrianism can do, might find credence, but which narration, if given some years ago, would have had but few believers. I will only refer to one of this man's pedal exercises, and even that, simply because it is associated with the Tap of the St. Leonards Hotel. Some of my readers remember the celebrates - or rather, let me say, the notorious - Mike Wood, who was a powerful athlete, an accomplished pugilist, and an amateur burglar. He exercised his last-named vocation on the premises of Mr. Hogsflesh, and could not save his "bacon." He was sent abroad, as some of his acquaintances said "for the benefit of his health," and did not live to return. In the Rock-Fair week of the year when St. Leonards was commenced, I saw the doughty Mike come off victorious after a fight of 40 rounds with another pugilist named Whiteman. On another occasion I saw him run through White-rock street in pursuit of a cart, and while the latter was still in motion, vault into it, without the use of his hands, over the tailboard. This will give some idea of Mike's muscularity and agility. It was some time after these two events that Mike found himself in the St. Leonards Tap, which, as will be remembered, was on the site of the "Old Woman's Tap", - and was there casting about for someone to accept a challenge from him. My friend was also there, and quietly intimated that were it not for the possibility of taking the conceit out of so "good a man", he would engage in a race with him and beat him. Naturally, he had numerous encouragers, but perhaps not many substantial backers. A match, however, was agreed upon, the distance to be run from the hotel to the Priory Bridge. It was a pluckily contested race, the theretofore champion taking the lead, and for the most part keeping it until "Pork" Farrol's beer-house - near where now stands the Trinity Church - was reached, where my friend (Why not say my uncle?) put on an effective spurt, and, to the discomfiture of his antagonist, realised the promise to beat him. At an after period, when the hotel became more fully the resort of aristocratic visitors and places had multiplied for the supply of refreshments to tradesmen and mechanics, the underground tap was relinquished, and the flight of steps leading thereto disused. But for many years -
