The coast at Branscombe is wildly beautiful, and an interesting ramble may be taken at low tide among the masses of rock that form a sort of undercliff; the miniature valleys between are carpeted with rare and beautiful flowers.  It is not practicable to continue by the shore except at the expenditure of much exertion.  The road to Sidmouth should be taken by way of the few houses that constitute Weston, and then by the highly placed Dunscombe Farm and the picturesque ruin near it.  These winding lanes lead eventually to the lonely little church hamlet of Salcombe Regis—­“King Athelstan’s salt-works in the Combe.”  This is one of those sweetly-pretty lost villages by the sea which one hesitates to mention lest a speculator should investigate with the idea of an elaborate “simple life” hostel in his mind.  But Salcombe is too difficult of approach, even for faddists, although only a nominal two miles separates it from the South Western terminus on the other side of the hill.  The church dates from 1150, though aisles were added a hundred years later and the tower in 1450.

We now approach the borders of the older Wessex, the limit for which for want of definite evidence to the contrary the writer has had to fix arbitrarily at the mouth of the Otter.  The last of the coast towns in this region is one of the best centres in south-east Devon for a detailed exploration of the countryside.  That is, the best if a coast town must be chosen.  To the writer’s mind a better plan is to make a break from this established usage and get quarters in one of the quiet old places about eight or ten miles inland, such as Ottery or Axminster.  But Sidmouth is an exceedingly pleasant spot, in which one need never feel dull or bored, and in which the vulgarities one associates with the “popular” watering place are entirely absent.  The bright and clean appearance of the stuccoed houses, nearly always painted white, contrasting with the red of the cliffs and the green foliage with which the town is embowered, is very effective and even beautiful.  The houses are grouped in a compact and cosy way between the two hills, although of late years a number of new and, at close quarters, staring red brick efforts at modernity have been made on the hillsides.  But these are decently covered, in any general view of the town, in the wealth of trees that climb the lower slopes.

[Illustration:  SIDMOUTH.]

Certain quarters of Sidmouth have an air of antique and solid gentility that is a heritage from those days when it was a select and fashionable resort before the terraces of Torquay were built on the lines of its parent—­Bath.  After Lyme it was the first of the western coast towns to bid for the custom of the habitues of such inland resorts as Tunbridge Wells, Cheltenham and the like.  The Victorian-Gothic building known as Royal Glen, originally Woolbrook Cottage, was for several years the home of the Duke and Duchess of Kent and the infant Princess Victoria.  The Duke died here in 1820 and Queen Victoria caused a window to be placed to his memory in the rebuilt parish church.