The sea has continued to make rapid encroachments on the cliffs. Many large portions of land were washed away in 1611, previous to which the inhabitants had endeavoured, but fruitlessly, although they bestowed much labour and ingenuity in the attempt, to maintain a small harbour. In the winter of 1799, the Light-house cliffs, which rise from the beach to the height of two hundred and twenty feet, made several large slips, or shoots as they are called, one of which brought with it, at least half an acre of ground, and extended a considerable way into the sea at low water-mark. On January 15, 1825, a similar occurrence took place. An immense mass was detached from the cliff, which fell with tremendous force on the beach, extending in breadth above five hundred yards from the cliffs, covering an area of about twelve acres, and containing, it was supposed, not less than half a million of cubic yards of earth. Nothing had been observed which could raise any suspicion of what was about to take place, but providentially no lives were lost, nor did any accident occur, although the coast-guard had to pass in the night the very spot where it fell. A large and rapid stream, the cause in all probability of the catastrophe, immediately after the fall, issued from the bank, discharging itself down upon the beach with great violence. In the morning of August 19, 1832, the Lighthouse hill again sustained a similar loss. This shoot was so considerable as to cause serious apprehension for the safety of the light-house itself; in consequence of which the master and elder brethren of the Trinity House, London, under whose superintendence all such matters are directed, determined on erecting a new one on the hill, two hundred and eighty yards further inland. The former one, which is partly dismantled, stands about three-quarters of a mile east of the town: both houses are in the parish of Overstrand. The first was built of brick in 1719, by Edward Browne of Ipswich; the present tower is also constructed of brick and stuccoed. It is fifty-two feet in height, and about three hundred above the level of the sea, surmounted with a lantern lighted by thirty lamps in three divisions, placed in plated copper reflectors, which revolve on an upright axis; the whole making a revolution in three minutes, consequently a full light is exhibited to the mariners every minute, consuming about eleven hundred gallons of oil annually. The gleam of light is perceptible about twenty-seven miles distant. The lamps all the year are lighted up at sunset, and extinguished at sunrise.