on the north side of the tower, is said to have been a gift of Queen Elizabeth and to be the oldest clock in England still in good order.  It is probably of late Caroline construction, but even though it were of the sixteenth century its claim to be the oldest clock now at work in England could not be upheld for a moment, that in Wells Cathedral being far older.  The pulpit is of the sixteenth century.  In the north aisle is a curious collection of Bibles and cannon balls, and here, too, is a small window with glass by Burne Jones.

To the south-west of the church is the so-called Carmelite Chapel, a late Decorated building.  What exactly this was and to whom it belonged, is uncertain; it was not a chapel of Carmelite Friars.  The only establishment belonging to that Order within the county of Susses was at Shoreham, founded in honour of the Blessed Virgin, by Sir John de Mowbray in 1316.

So far as we know the only religious to be found in

Rye at the time of the spoliation were the Austin Friars.  Their house still stands—­a building of the late fourteenth or early fifteenth century—­on the Conduit Hill.  It has passed through many strange uses, among others that of a Salvation Army barracks.  It is now the Anglican Church House.  This was the only settlement of the Austin Friars in Sussex, and of its origin nothing is known.  In 1368 we hear that the prior and convent of the Friars Eremites of St Austin in Rye permitted one of their brethren, a priest, to say Mass daily, at the altar of St Nicholas, in the parish church for the welfare of William Taylour of Rye, and of Agnes his wife.  In 1378 the town granted them a place called “le Haltone” near the town ditch.  But apart from these two facts their history is altogether wanting.

From the parish church one descends south-east to the Ypres Tower.  This watch tower and stronghold was built in the time of King Stephen by William of Ypres, Earl of Kent, and is in many ways the most impressive building left to us in Rye.  It is undoubtedly best seen from the river, but it and the garden below it afford a great view over the marshes on a clear day, eastward to the cliffs of Folkestone and westward to Fairlight.  In itself it is a plain rectangular building with round towers at the angles, but with nothing of interest within.  Yet what would Rye be without it.  For many years it was the sole defence of the town.

Most of those who come to Rye enter the town, and with a sudden surprise not to be found elsewhere, by the Landgate upon the north.  There were, it is said of old, five gates about the town, but this is the only one left to us.  Nothing, or almost nothing, of the walls remain.  Doubtless the French destroyed anything in the nature of fortification so far as they could, only the Ypres Tower they failed to pull down or to burn, and this great round towered gateway upon the north—­why we do not know?