Leland goes on to say that “ther be two Tounes at this Point of the Haven by name of Teignmouth, one hard joining the other;” and also states that at the date he writes the houses at West Teignmouth on “the peace of Sanddy Ground afore spoken of ther caullid the Dene” had not been built many years. Leland’s name the _Dene_ (meaning a dune or bank) being a much more comprehensible one than its present form _Den_. The stories of the destruction of the towns “by the Danes, and of late Tymes by the Frenchmen” were doubtless told to the indefatigable traveller and diarist. But, as is so often the case with him, Leland is not entirely accurate, and is at fault in referring to East Teignmouth as Teignmouth Regis. During the years immediately succeeding his visit the place seems to have declined, rather slowly, but nevertheless surely, and a century or so later we find a well-known writer describing it as having been formerly considerably more resorted to and held in higher esteem. This same authority appears to have accepted the tradition of the Danish landing and wholesale slaughter of the unfortunate inhabitants in its entirety, for he ascribes the colour of the cliffs--which forms so striking a feature of local scenery--to the bloodshed which traditionally took place. He writes in pursuance of this theory that it is in memory of the Danes’ atrocious massacre that the cliff is so “exceedingly red”; and adds that at the memory of the crimes the place “doth seem thereat again full fresh to bleed.” The inhabitants at the time of this later historian would seem to have become slothful as their town declined. Perhaps the one circumstance may be traced to the other. At any rate we are told that at the time the country was in the throes of Civil War, and Royalists and Roundheads were marching and countermarching around Exeter, the inhabitants discontinued their practice of keeping the bulwarks and defences of the harbour and town in repair, which led to the promulgation of an order from Exeter calling upon them to fulfil their duty. Then for fully a century history is silent as to the progress or doings of the town and its people. The veil which so often at that time obscured the history of the smaller and more secluded places on the south and west coasts, seems to have also enwrapped Teignmouth. And it was not lifted until the last decade of the seventeenth century, when the town again became the theatre of stirring scenes.