A kind of poetic justice, a manner of retribution, befell Herne in 1833, when the newly planned town of Herne Bay, less than two miles distant, obtained an Act of Parliament making it independent of Herne. In the fine church are some interesting brasses, notably the remarkable example to Christian, wife of Matthew Phelip. He was that hard warlike Mayor of London who led the citizens to the battle of Barnet. She “departed from this vale of misery” in 1471. The brass to Peter Halle and his wife Elizabeth, 1420, show them lovingly, hand in hand. “Here lies a piece of Christ, a star in dust, A vein of gold, a china dish that must Be used in Heaven, when God shall feed the just.” Nicholas Ridley, who, as Bishop of London, suffered martyrdom in 1555 at Oxford, was appointed vicar here in 1538. Leaving, he exclaimed, “Farewell, Herne, thou worshipful and wealthy parish, the first cure whereunto I was called to minister God’s word. Thou hast heard of my mouth ofttime the word of God preached, not after the Popish trade, but after God’s gospel. Oh that the fruit had answered to the seed! But I bless God for all that godly virtue and zeal of God’s word which the Lord by preaching of His word did kindle manifestly both in the heart and the life of that godly woman, my Lady Fiennes.” A brass to that excellent lady, dated 1539, is among those to be seen here. [Illustration: HERNE: THE “SMUGGLER’S LOOK-OUT.”] The name of Herne, which really derives from the Anglo-Saxon _hierne_, a corner, has by some been thought to derive from the herons that once abounded in this marshy district; and the modern town of Herne Bay has boldly taken a heron into the arms it has assumed. The village still keeps some curious old houses; among them a white-painted corner house opposite the church, with a tiny triangular window under the eaves, said to have been a smuggler’s look-out and signalling station. A still more remarkable building is that on the hill above the church, called, from its ground-plan, the “Box Iron.” Extensive cellars exist beneath it, and under the road, with a trap-door on the adjacent green. This building, now very dilapidated, is supposed to have been a smugglers’ warehouse.