mu^VMWRBBM iniiMiii CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Cornell University Library DA 630.A56 Spell of EM?!?,{'ai Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924028008005 THE SPELL OF ENGLAND THE SPELL SERIES Each volume with one or more tffiored plates and many illustrations from original drawings or special photographs. Octavo, decorative cover, gilt top, boxed. Per volume, $2.50 By Isabel Anderson *THE SPELL OF BELGIUM *THE SPELL OF JAPAN THE SPELL OF THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS AND THE PHILIPPINES By Caroline Atwater Mason THE SPELL OF ITALY THE SPELL OF SOUTHERN SHORES THE SPELL OF FRANCE By Archie Bell THE SPELL OF CHINA THE SPELL OF EGYPT THE SPELL OF THE HOLY LAND By Keith Clark THE SPELL OF SPAIN THE SPELL OF SCOTLAND By W. D. McCrackan THE SPELL OF TYROL *THE SPELL OF THE ITALIAN LAKES By Edward Neville Vose THE SPELL OF FLANDERS By Burton E. Stevenson THE SPELL OF HOLLAND By Julia DeW. Addison *THE SPELL OF ENGLAND By Nathan Haskell Dole THE SPELL OF SWITZERLAND *Price advanced to $3.00. The price of other volumes in the series will be advanced as fast as they are reprinted. 99 THE PAGE COMPANY 53 Beacon Street Boston, Mass. Cfiesar's Tower, Warwick Castk ( See page 7 ) m r^ff Spell sTEng ND Julia de Wolf Addison Author of " The Boston Museum ot Fi^r , "An- — ■« '"'••"■ "■ <^'-' Middle Age»." ■' J L* A 9f 1 i f If ■ iL\j l4' ^ i 1 1 *|iP^^l -■ i Valleys of the Severn and the Wye 91 die," and it is actually the first great achieve- ment in that style. The Norman parts, too, are massive and perfect in their proportions. How wonderful the stone lace here is! The unfolding of the lady chapel beyond the great East window always strikes one anew as a lovely feature. Not the least charming thing about it is the row of old ghosts of battle flags, mounted on gauze, which decorate the chapel. A little stone offertory box may be seen on the tomb of Edward II in Gloucester, the shrine being reputed to work miracles; the offerings placed in this box amounted to sufficient to pay for the vaulting of the choir. Leaving the Severn now, let us begin our observations on the Wye at Hereford. Leland, writing in 1550, says of Hereford: "This town is auncient, large and strongly walled, ... I take the castle to be of as great circuit as Windsore. The dungeon of the castle is hye and strong, and in the dyke not far from it is a fair spring called ' St. Ethelbert's Well.' . . . The wall of the town is compassed with a dyke always filled with morisch water gathering and descending into it. . . . This water resorteth to the bottom of the Wyp." Hereford Cathedral may not be as important 92 The Spell of England as some of the others, but it has charming Nor- man detail in the nave, and nothing could be more delightfully hospitable than its canons, with one of whom we had a most pleasant ex- perience, ending in our carrying off across the Atlantic an eleventh century sculptured stone to remember the cathedral by. The curious and ghoulish old custom of em- ploying a " sin-eater " to assume the respon- sibilities of the sins of the dead, was prevalent in Hereford in early days. The following ac- count of this ceremony is taken from the story by Fiona McCleod, " The Sin Eater." " An- drew Blair stooped and took a saucer. . . . This he put upon the covered breast of the corpse. He stooped again, and brought forth a thick piece of new bread. That also he placed upon the breast of the corpse. Then he stooped again, and with that he emptied a spoonful of salt alongside the bread. ' I must see the corpse,' said Neil Eoss simply. ' It is not need- ful.' ' I must see the corpse, I tell you, and for that, too, the bread and water should be on the naked breast. ' . . . With an ill grace the son of the dead man drew back the sheeting. Beneath it the corpse was in a clean white shirt, a death gown long ago prepared, that covered him to his feet, and left only the dusky yellow- Valleys of the Severn and the Wye 93 ish face exposed. . . . Andrew Blair unfast- ened the shirt, and placed the saucer and the bread and the salt on the breast. . . . Slowly NeU Eoss extended his right arm. He took a pinch of the salt, and put it in the saucer, then took another pinch and sprinkled it on the bread. His hand shook for a moment as he touched the saucer. But there was no shaking as he raised it towards his lips, or when he held it before him when he spoke. " ' With this water that has salt in it, and which has lain on thy corpse, O Adam, ... I drink away all the evil that is upon thee ' — there was a throbbing silence while he paused — ' and may it be upon me, and not upon thee, if with this water it cannot flow away.' There- upon he raised the saucer, and passed it three times round the head of the corpse, sunways, and having done this, lifted it to his lips, and drank as much as his mouth would hold. There- after he poured the remnant over his left hand, and let it trickle to the ground. Then he took the piece of bread; thrice, too, he passed it round the head of the corpse, sunways: . . . with a loud clear voice he took the sins. . . . ' Adam, give me thy sins to take away from thee! Lo, now as I stand here I break this bread that has lain on thee in corpse, and I 94 The Spell of England am eating it, and in that eating I take upon me the sins of thee, oh, man that was alive ! and is now white with the stillness! ' There- upon Neil Ross broke the bread and ate of it, and took upon himself the sins of Adam Blair that was dead. ' ' The sin eater figures prominently, too, in Allen Eaine's book, " Hearts of Wales." Both Nell Gwyn and David Garrick were born in Hereford. I do not recall any trip in the world more full of charm and rural beauty, combined with a great deal of dignity,- than the windings of the Wye from Hereford to Tintern. This short but varied journey is like a dream — a vision which leaves you attuned to find just what awaits you at Tintern Abbey. Tintern is certainly, as Baedeker says, " the most romantic ruin." The way in which the whole skeleton of the abbey stands, lacking only a roof, open to the sky, with its grassy floor and the green moss creeping half-way up its columns, so that they look as if they actually sprang from the turf, is an indescribable colour scheme. We arrived very late in the afternoon, but still there was time to go and see the abbey Valleys of the Severn and the Wye 95 once before dinner. Other Americans who had come by the same train were at our hotel, and so, to start conversation at dinner, I observed, " You did not go to the abbey this afternoon, did you? " They replied " No," rather stiffly, and so I, thinking they did not care to talk, made no further effort. In the evening, in the drawing-room, the mother of the family plunged into Baedeker, and after eagerly scanning the volume for some minutes, she exclaimed, ' ' Say, girls! Do you know Baedeker says there's a ruin here that we'd ought to see, and he's starred it!" They all looked disappointed, and regretted that they had to go on the nine o'clock train in the morning. I asked them why they had come to Tintern if not to see the abbey? Oh, they replied, they had been trav- elling all day, and this seemed about the right place to stop and get a night's rest. The mother continued, " I guess it's a good deal of a ruin," at which the father spoke up : " Well," said he, " we've seen Conway Castle, and that's ruin enough for me! " Let us hope that they rested well, for they took the nine o'clock train on their way to Land's End, and it would be a pity if they saw nothing and also got no rest on their way from Wales to Cornwall ! That part of the George Inn in which we 96 The Spell of England stayed at Tintern was standing when Columbus discovered America, as the landlady exultingly told me. A small English inn usually owns but one key to each door. If that is lost the room becomes unavailable until a new key is fitted. A housekeeper came to me once, confidentially, remarking, " No. 3 has taken her key out, tied it in her handkerchief, and lost it; and her 'usband taking a bath at the time ! A nice time I've had trying to unlock the door with the pantry key, to let the poor man into his bed- room again, and him stopping in the bath-room and cursing the while ! ' ' There was a sign up at Tintern, which we did not see in the twilight the night before, notifying visitors that they walked in the ruins at their own risk, and that stones often fell without warning. Just what warning falling stones could be expected to give I do not know ! Near Tintern Abbey is a rock known as the Devil's Pulpit, from which, it is asserted, Satan used to preach immoral doctrine to the monks. Once he is said to have asked permission to preach from the rood-loft of the abbey itself, and the monks agreed. But when he arrived at the church he was showered with holy water, which caused him to run away, and he never returned to the same locality. Valleys of the Severn and the Wye 97 We discovered why it is that Americans are supposed to be the only people who ride first class in English trains. There is a local riddle, *' Why do the English prefer to travel third class? " and the answer is, " Because there is no fourth class." It is not, however, that the Americans are so much more extravagant than the British, but perhaps the former are more strategic. If you buy a third-class ticket, and enter a first-class compartment, no one chal- lenges you, as the tickets are collected at the gate as you pass out of the station after having arrived at your destination. On long trips this is not practicable, for there is a hold-up just outside important cities, so that the tickets may be collected by the conductor — he has to go from compartment to compartment, and cannot do this under cover. The train stops as long as it takes to collect tickets, and hence crowded trains are always late. On short trips, this method of riding first class on a third-class ticket is possible, and often adopted. It is a flaw in their complicated railway system. They tell a story of a man who was annoyed, in a first-class carriage, by having a large fam- ily of noisy people get in. He complained to the conductor, at a station, saying, " These people have third-class tickets, and have no 98 The Spell of England right in this compartment." The conductor hustled them off, and the traveller returned to his solitary glory. At the terminus, the head of the large party came up to our friend, and asked: " For the curiosity of the thing, I want to know how you discovered that I had third- class tickets? " The gentleman replied, " I saw a corner of your ticket protruding from your pocket, and I recognized that it was the same colour as my own. I also had a third- class ticket! " Some of the railway station signs are amu- sing. One always evoked our mirth : ' ' Beware of the trains ! " as if they were about to spring at you from some secret hiding place, while " Do not get bff the car while in motion," is just incorrect enough to be funny. People are prone to return from England complaining of starvation, bad food, badly cooked, being the chief object of their wrath. I think it only fair to call attention to the pos- sibilities of the English market, in proof that it is the fault only of the hotels, not of the coun- try. If one goes into lodgings, one can order one's own food, even if at the risk of causing the landlady to fall in a faint at one's ex- otic preferences. Delicious chickens are very cheap ; unusually fine salmon is equally so ; and Valleys of the Severn and the Wye 99 sweetbreads, delicious crabs, shrimps, mush- rooms, artichokes, fine green peas and tender beans are available at very low cost. Straw- berries last all through July, and are finer than most of ours; raspberries and greengages fol- low through August; ducks, pigeons, tender rabbits, splendid cauliflowers, soles, plaice, whitings, whitebait, kippers and finnan baddies in absolute perfection, good lamb cutlets (al- though the other meats are generally tough), the best ham out of Virginia, and numerous other things that make housekeeping a pleasant adventure. Why is it that, in the face of this abundance of good things, English hotels feel obliged to give one a dinner of five meats and one vegetable, and that invariably cabbage? It would cost nothing but a little thought and in- itiative to set a good table; but I fear the day is far off when the change will take place. What England has done, England will usually continue to do. One might almost write a whole chapter on the signs and advertisements which one meets in English travel. A terrible possibility is sug- gested by the announcement : ' ' Old false teeth "bought and sold," while " The Superfine Cot- ton Spinner's Combine Limited " is almost as difficult to sav five times as " Peter Piper." 100 The Spell of England On a shop in London one reads " Greaves late Huggins." This is a sermon in itself. The more you repeat it, with new contexts, the bet- ter it grows. The colloquial quality which characterizes British public statement is observable in their telephone signs in many places. " You may telephone from here " is substituted for our laconic blue bell. Little hotels often offer the curious combination of " Temperance and Apartments." I saw an advertisement in Wales which caused me to wonder: " Trunks, Fancies, and Mail Carts." Just how such a dealer should be denominated I do not know. There is a certain lack of perception, too, in the firm which advertises " Pianos tuned by appointment. ' ' Euphonious, too, are some of the following selections: " Wiggan's Wagons; " " Wilson's Canadian Pig Powder; " " For Sale, Twenty ram lambs." It is usual to see that a " House " is for sale, " Dilapidations assessed." This is sometimes offered by " Whereat, house agent and valuer." Modern advance is suggested in the black sanded board which announces in gilt letters, " Funeral and Complimentary Mourn- ing Warehouse," and which adds, " Funerals with Economy and Reform." For a tailor, Valleys of the Severn and the Wye 101 what could be more select: " Distinguished clothing for gentlemen and their sons' wear," or, ' ' Hat makers to the Nobility and Gentry ; ' ' whUe one is sure that a " Hand sewn Boot Maker " must be especially recherche! A great deal of curiosity and some miscon ceptions about America still exist among the English; but also they show lively interest in their trans-atlantic cousins, and I do not wish any one to suppose that it is usual to meet with this form of ignorance. But once in a while one comes against it. The English never get used to the American habit of drinking water at meals. An English doctor once asked a member of my family what she was accustomed to drink; when she replied, " "Water," he said, " Ah, was it recommended? " Their naive sur- prise at us is never quenched, but revives with our thirst in perennial freshness. A lady at tea once asked me where I came from in America. When I told her Boston, she said, rather hesitatingly, " Ah, that is not in Virginia, is it? " I helped myself to a second frosted cake, remarking to the hostess that they were very good. She exclaimed, ' ' Oh, but you have such delicious cakes in America! I have heard of your famous buck wheat eakee! " The emphasis placed upon the word 102 The SpeU of England " wheat " seemed to make a new thing of these dainties. Another old lady said she was much inter- ested in American missions; "In fact," she added, * ' I knew the first missionary who intro- duced Christianity into America." Well, she was elderly, but it seemed as if there must be some mistake! The Head of the House in- quired to what part of America her friend had gone? " To Patagonia," she replied, cheer- fully. CHAPTEE VI ABOUT BATH AND WELLS ^T is a great change to jump from being entertained by some of the leading professors of Oxford, where there is a great feast of reason and flow of soul, to a country party, a few days later, where the talk was all of horse-racing and betting, and where the spirits of the guests rose as those in the bottles diminished, and the squires had to be lured into the drawing room to smoke after dinner, to prevent their partaking too freely of port ! At Bath one should emphatically live in the past. The modern city is largely without al- lure. Going about among the Roman remains and the well-preserved ancient baths, one might easily fancy one 's self in Italy. As long as one is studying these relics one does well. Among the fragments are numerous bits of stone roofs, in just the same shapes as those now in use in the Cotswolds — thin oblong slabs, with a round hole at one end, for purposes of applying. Thus it is seen that even in Eoman times stone 103 104 The Spell of England roofs must have been in vogue in this part of Engla:nd. We struck Bath during a carnival, and the first evening was passed amid music and fire- works — large "set pieces" intended to be portraits of royalty, although the burst of glory which was supposed to represent Queen Mary might with equal justice have been labelled Lydia E. Pinkham ! The origin of Bath as a city of healing waters is said to have been on this wise. The eighth king of the Britons, Hudibras, had an only son, Bladud. This prince had the mis- fortune to contract leprosy. The stern parent instantly ordered him into exile. The boy re- tired, as a swineherd, far from the haunts of men. His mother, however, being of a sanguine temperament, gave him a ring which he was to send back to her in the event of his ever being cured of the disease. Bladud kept his pigs quietly for some time, and then found to his dismay that they had caught his disease. In order to retain his posi- tion he concealed this fact from the owner of the herd, driving the swine to the other side of the Avon. The spot over wl^ch they crossed the river is still known as Swineford. (Swin- ford.) One day his pigs ran away. He chased About Bath and Wells 105 them, and found them wallowing in a swamp full of hot springs. After having extricated them with difficulty from their uncomfortable situation, he was disheartened to find that they all went back the next day, appearing to derive some pleasure from the warm mud. After a short time he noticed that they began to re- cover from their leprosy. Amazed and inter- ested, Bladud decided to experiment with the hot swamp himself. This he did, and became cured as well. He flew to his father's court, sent up the ring to his mother, and was re- ceived with joy. When he became king in his turn, he built magnificent temples of health all about this magic mud bath, and the place, under the name of Caer Badon, became the royal residence. A modern versifier has treated the legend in a light vein : " Vexed at the brutes' alone possessing What ought to be a common blessing, He drove them thence in mighty wrath, And built the stately town of Bath. The hogs, thus banished by the Prince, Have lived in Bristol ever since! " In 1138 Bath waters again came into favour for leprosy, and a small leper hospital was built in the town by a bishop. 106 The Spell of England In 1450 Bath had evidently begun to take on some of^ its subsequent gay aspect, for Bishop Beckington threatened excommunication to any persons who should go into the baths without clothes on. This looks as if such a procla- mation had been rendered necessary by the fact of this misdemeanour having been prac- tised ! In 1574 Queen Elizabeth visited Bath. The city was turned upside down to do her honour, but, among the elaborate preparations of the city fathers, they had overlooked the fact that the drain ran through the middle of the city. The royal nose being sensitive, it seems that all the glory and display of the pageant was lost upon the queen, who did nothing but complain in a truly gracious way of the " stink." I fancy the effect' of her dissatisfaction threw a cloud over the festivities. When one goes now to the Pump Room in Bath, a good deal of mental reconstruction is necessary to resurrect Beau Nash and his cir- cle. I advise a strenuous and immediate course of reading of all the novels which deal with the historic Bath of the eighteenth century. " Beau Nash " by Harrison Ainsworth, " A Nest of Linnets " by Frankfort Moore, " The Bath Comedy " by Agnes and Egerton Castle, About Bath and Wells 107 and many more pertinent books on the same order. It is an interesting subject and has been so widely exploited in fiction that it is quite possible to set up an " atmosphere " in which to study the city. In the Pump Eoom there are several Roman Eemains arranged in cases. One piece is espe- cially remarkable. It is a little black tablet about four inches square, on which, to the un- trained eye, there appears to be a few random scratches. Pause: these marks constitute an inscription of great antiquity, and have been three times translated by savants with three separate results. As Sayce translates it, it shows a record of a lady having been cured by Bath waters, and is signed by three witnesses. Zangermeister has discovered on it a curse pro- noimced upon some one for stealing a table- cloth. Another authority finds in it a curse for stealing a Roman slave. In either case, the balance of evidence is in favour of the curse rather than the blessing. Strange that the cen- turies should thus obscure the message ! There is also a curious little Celtic cross of lead, with the inscription, " To Christ do I, though stained with sin, suppliantly pray mise- rere mei," and on the reverse, " He who by virtue of ,the cross broke the power of hell, and 108 The Spell of England opened the celestial gates, and gave salvation to all His faithful people." The glory of the Pump Room has departed. Few beaux or belles seem to flourish among the faded old birds who hobble up to get the nasty, acid, warm water. One has to close one's eyes and dream, and then open them and read his- tory, to appreciate the social Bath of the past. Bath lies in a valley, surrounded, as Defoe quaintly expresses it, " with an amphitheatri- cal view of hills." He calls the city in his day " a place that helps the indolent and the gay to commit that worst of murders, that is to say, to kill time." His account of the process of a fashionable bath is diverting: " The young lady is brought in a close chair," he says, " dressed in her bathing clothes, to the Cross Bath. There the music plays her into the bath, and the women who tend her present her with a little floating wooden dish like a basin, into which the lady puts an handkerchief and a nose- gay, and of late years the snuff box and smell- ing bottle are added. She then traverses the bath, if a novice, with a guide; if otherwise, by herself. Having amused herself near an hour, she calls for her chair, and returns to her lodgings." He speaks of the water, how- ever, as being " admirably grateful to the About Bath and Wells 109 stomach." A rather scurrilous little publica- tion in verse, entitled " The New Bath Guide," appeared about 1770, which has some spots of wit, and gives an occasional glimpse of a cer- tain aspect of Bath society. A patient writing to a friend remarks : " And so, as I grew every day worse and worse The doctor advised me to send for a nurse, And the nurse was so willing my health to restore. She advised me to send for a few doctors more." We sometimes forget that running to sanitari- ums and water cures is not merely a modem fad ; there never was a more neurotic time for invalids and hypochondriacs than the eight- eenth century, and Bath was the centre of ac- tivity! The descriptions of the beaux and belles wading into the bath is graphic : " Oh, 'twas pretty to see them all put on their flannels And then take to the water like so many spaniels! 'Twas a glorious sight to behold the fair sex All wading with gentlemen up to their necks, And view them so prettily stumble and sprawl In a big smoking kettle as big as our hall! " The writer remarks, however, that the doctors themselves never try the waters which they so highly recommend. 110 The Spell of England "Since the days when King Bladud first found out the bogs, And thought them so good for himself and his hogs, Not one of the faculty ever has tried These excellent waters to cure his own hide! " Whether the Bath waters were responsible for the peculiarities of the noted Sarah Jarvis or not I cannot say, but it is recorded in simple language on her tombstone that she died in 1753, in the one hundred and seventh year of her age, and that " some time before she died she had fresh teeth! " On the site of the present abbey stood in ancient times a Temple to Minerva. In Bath Abbey King Edgar the Peaceable was crowned in 973. In the Saxon Chronicle the event is related, the audience consisting: Of priests a heap, Of monks much crowd, I understand. " In speaking of the abbey fagade Defoe says that it is " almost blasphemously decorated, if it may be called decorated, with the figures of God the Father and saints and angels, the work of superstition. ' ' ^ Evelyn says: " The faciate of this cathedral is remarkable for its historical carving. The About Bath and Wells 111 town is entirely built of stone, but the streets narrow, uneven, and unpleasant. Here we trifled and bathed, and intervisited with com- pany who frequent the place for their health." There are so many tombs and mural tablets in the old abbey that it is no wonder the wit, Dr. Harrington, composed that couplet: " These walls adorned with moniiment and bust Show how Bath waters serve to lay the dust! " One of the largest is the Waller monument, on which lies the effigy of the pugilistic William Waller with his nose broken. James II visited the abbey and was so enraged at seeing this monument to one who so entirely differed from him in all policies, that he smote his prostrate foe across the face with his sword ! Do not f aU to notice the delightful little children sitting on either side of this tomb. They are full of quaint fascination, and are worth the entire structure. A notable feature of the faQade of the abbey is a couple of curious stone ladders, up which strenuous angels are climbing for dear life, in spite of the fact that they have wings ! Miss Marshall gives an account of the cere- mony of " touching for the king's evil " in the abbey at Bath, in the reign of James II. 112 The Spell of England Miss Marshall says: " The invalids had a weary time of waiting until they were con- ducted into the choir of the abbey, densely crowded, to await the arrival of the king, whose throne was erected before the altar. . . . The old abbey church had rarely been the scene of a grander ceremony. And when the king at last appeared, in his state robes, standing for a moment to gaze at the multitude before him, a murmur of admiration was heard. . . . Those who had seen the portrait of James II, at Long- leat, will have some idea of his kingly presence. . . . This touching for the evil had a marvel- lous hold on the minds of the people, and the great mass of the enormous crowd, which filled the abbey on this bright autumn day, believed in its efficacy, though in many hearts, as I have said, there was a smouldering discontent at the Eomish ritual, with which the ceremony was carried out. Every eye was fixed on James as, raising his head, after the first part of the service, followed by a fiery proselytising ad- dress from Huddlestone, he pronounced these words in a clear, ringing voice, ' I confess to God and the blessed Virgin Mary, to all saints, and to you, that I have sinned, in thought, word and deed, through my fault.' Then he made a low obeisance to the altar, reseated himself on About Bath and Wells 113 the throne, and one by one the candidates for the healing touch were brought up, the king pass- ing his hand over each one, and throwing over the bowed heads a white silk ribbon, to which was attached a gold coin, with the device of an angel engraved on it. . . . After a day of much turmoil and excitement the city of Bath had sunk into repose. The clanging of bells and the beat of drums, the running hither and thither of king's messengers, the singing and mirth of that part of the population who oared little and knew less about the ceremony of touching for the evil had at last been exhausted, and most of the citizens had sought their homes. There was scarcely a household where patients were not displaying ' the angel ' and the white silk ribbon, and did not fully believe that their cure was effected and that they were on the high road to health and happiness." One of the characters narrates the incident as he saw it on this occasion : ' ' The sight was indeed a strange one — the king's majestic fig- ure, the lights and the grand decorations, the pealing organ, and the voices of the choir. ' ' Bath buns are the special joy of the epicure. In one of Miss Marshall's books, she puts these words into the mouth of an old housewife: 114 The Spell of England " Mind you insist upon having the buns puffy at the top. Don't let them press on you those with a sink in the middle; they are sure to be heavy! " In a little alley near the Parade stood the small bim-shop of the great and only Sally Lunn. The famous White Horse, visible from a Bath suburb on a clear day, was cut flat in the chalk hills by the soldiers of Alfred the Great after a great Danish Victory. The natives of the region all through the centuries have felt a pride in maintaining the appearance of this silhouette of a steed, and at intervals large fetes have been held, all the inhabitants of the neighbouring towns turning out to assist in an operation known as " scouring the White Horse." All the weeds and dirt are removed from the chalk surface, and the result is that we have literally a survival of the graphic art of the ninth century. It was originally cut in 878. Among the songs sung by the " scour- ers " is one as follows: "The owld white horse wants setting to rights, And the squire have promised good cheer; So we'll gi' him a scrape To keep him in shape, And he'll last for many a year. About Bath and Wells 115 " He was made a long time ago Wi' a good deal of labour and pains, By King Alfred the Great When he spoiled the conceit And caddled those wosbirds the Danes. " (Caddling is worrying, and wosbirds are birds of Ul omen.) Defoe tells of this ancient custom: " The neighbouring parishes to this White Horse have a custom annually at midsummer to go and weed it, in order to keep it in shape and colour; and when they have done their work, they end the day in feasting and merriment. ' ' A verse by Chesterton has striking lines in it : "And all the while on White Horse hill The horse lay long and wan; The turf crawled and the fungus crept, And the little sorrel, while all men slept, Unwrought the work of man." I have often laughed at people because the moment they arrived in a place they began to plan to go and see all the surrounding places, instead of attending to the objects of interest where they actually were ; but I admit that my chief object in going to Bath was to see the lit- tle church at Bradford-on-Avon — the oldest complete Christian church in England, a tiny 116 The Spell of England Saxon relic in almost perfect preservation, fascinating in its barbaric simplicity, and re- plete with, ancient charm. We arrived on a very hot day at the station of Bradford. It was too far to walk up into the town on account of the extreme weather, so we asked the Head of the House to go and obtain a vehicle — we were not proud — any sort of vehicle would have answered, so that we need not have been exposed to the torrid glare of noon. He returned in a hack — probably the town boasts but one — the driver of which had agreed to take us up to the church and to call for us in time for a returning train. He was harnessed up on that day for a special purpose ; he had been engaged to take a prisoner from the court house to the jail. So our progress through the town was notable, for every one knew that the " fly " was engaged thus to up- hold the law, and I have no doubt that when they saw us they supposed us to be four crim- inals instead of one. More than a thousand years ago, before Al- fred the Grreat, this little church, practically as it stands, was " the place by the river where prayer was wont to be made." William of Malmsbury alludes to this little Saxon church as having been built in the eighth century, not About Bath and Wells 117 more than sixty or seventy years after the land- ing of Birinus, the " apostle of Wessex." The church and monastery were founded by St. Aldhelm in Bradford, but for many centuries it was supposed that the Danes had destroyed them. "William of Malmsbury thus alludes. to the church: " To this day (1120), there is at that place a little church which Aldhelm is said to have founded and dedicated to the blessed St. Lawrence." Antiquarians began to suspect the existence of the building about 1850 and investigations were started, which resulted after many years in the discovery and restoration of this marvel- lous little montiment. As St. Aldhelm died in 709 it is evident that the structure dates from the seventh or eighth century. For many years before it had really been blocked in and used for domestic purposes this church had been recorded as " a building ad- joining to the church yard, at Bradford, com- monly called or known by the name of the Skull House," and was used as a charnel house for the church across the street. It is a tiny structure with over-conscien- tiously thick walls. The nave is only twenty- five by thirteen feet, while the chancel meas- ures about thirteen by ten, approached through 118 The Spell, of England an arch only three feet wide. The building is very tall in proportion to these dimensions, as were many of the very early churches. The nave is as high as it is long, for instance, being twenty-five feet from floor to ceiling, and the chancel is eighteen feet. There is a step lead- ing down into the chancel, instead of up, as is more usual. The only real decoration at- tempted in this church is a couple of angels carved rudely in low relief, and placed most inartistically at the very top of the wall which separates chancel and nave. These rude fig- ures have many of the characteristics of Saxon design, resembling those in the Utrecht Psal- ter. Almost as interesting as the church is the old fourteenth century tythe-barn, where used to be stored all the provisions that were paid in kind as taxes to the church. It has a mass- ive beam roof, and little cross loop-holed win- dows. Every one knows the lovely benign face of the Parish Clerk of Gainsborough, in the Na- tional Gallery. This saintly-looking Edward Orpin lived in Bradford. His cottage is still shown, and in it there is evidence of an un- expected bit of shrewdness in this mild-man- nered man. Between the windows of his cot- About Bath and Wells 119 tage there are two tiny green glazed openings of almost no use. This was a tax-evading meas- ure; all lights at certain distances from each other were taxed as separate windows. The insertion of these small panes at strategic points reduced these distances so materially that five windows came under the head of one ! Orpin is buried in the church-yard just across from the old Saxon church. Bristol has always been rather a butt among cities, especially in literature. It is not a place to inspire poets, Chatterton to the contrary. Evelyn says, even in his day : ' ' Bristol, a city emulating London, not for its large market, but for its manner of building, shops, bridges, traf- fic, exchange, market place, etc. The Governor showed us the castle, of no great concernment. The city wholly mercantile, as standing near the famous Severn, commodiously for Ireland and the Western world." Later, Defoe re- marks: " The river is muddy and unseemly, at low water; nor do fishes of any value care to inhabit so filthy a stream." As an illustra- tion of the provincialism of the English coun- ties, on either side of the island, a story is told of a Bristol man who alluded to some one who lived in Ipswich, — he said, " Oh, he lives in the far east." An American looked at him 120 The Spell of England pityingly, and observed: " I wonder you don't speak of your western hand and your eastern hand! " And the Bristol man is still wonder- ing what he meant. In "Bristol Bells," Miss Marshall says: " Bristol Cathedral is not remarkable for stately proportions, and in the eye of many is but an insignificant building, which cannot bear comparison with the noble church of St. Mary Kedcliffe. . . . The men that had raised those walls and carved the devices on the pillars, who were they? Was there no record left, no voice to tell of the labour and the toil and the spirit which had moved them to do their work well ? ' ' The great caves at Cheddar are very inter- esting to visit, and Cheddar itself is a charm- ingly quaint town, set among frowning stony hills, with tiny cottages with thatched roofs and great fat cheeses displayed in the windows to catch one's eye as one drives down the little village street. The caves have been well de- scribed by Eev. A. D. Crake: " One of those celebrated lime stone caves of which so remark- able an example exists in the Cheddar valley: the water which oozed through the rifts had a strange petrifying power, and objects upon which it fell were in due time either encrusted with stone or artificially petrified. From the About Bath and Wells 121 roof descended long spars of stone in shape like icicles; fantastic resemblances of various objects met the gaze: here were shrouds and "winding sheets, then delicate tracery like lace, here hung graceful curtains, and there were grotesque caricatures of animal life, but all in cold stone. The height of the passage varied; . . . they reached a dark cave which seemed to be hung with funereal trappings, of black stone; in the centre was a sombre pool, into which heavy drops of water from above kept falling with a monotonous splash. ' ' We arrived in Glastonbury on its busy day, for there were preparations going on for the illuminations of the ruins that night, and a Bible Tea was to be held in the Abbot's Kitchen. Fancy an alcohol lamp used in that hallowed cone, where all four fireplaces are capable of roasting a whole ox apiece! Eoger of Wendover chronicles how the body of King Arthur was found in Glastonbury. The occasion of its being discovered was as follows : ' ' Certain people who were digging a grave in the same place to bury there a monk, . . . found a kind of sarcophagus on which was placed a leaden cross with these words carved upon it : ' Here lies the renowned King Ar- thur, of the Britons, buried in the island of 122 The Spell of England Avalon. ' The place is surrounded on all sides by marshes, and was formerly called the Isle of Avalon, that is, the Isle of Apples. ' ' " Where doubt is disenchantment 'Tis wisdom to believe, " as Oliver Wendell Holmes sagely remarks. The legend of the Glastonbury Thorn is, ac- cording to Daniel Defoe, that Joseph of Ari- mathea had been there, and that " when he had fixed his staff in the ground, which was on Christmas day, it immediately took root, budded, and put forth white thorn leaves, and the next day was in full blossom, white as a sheet, and that the plant is preserved, and blows every Christmas day, as at first, to this very time." He continues: "But this place is remarkable for many other marvellous sto- ries recorded by the monks, who formerly pos- sessed it." Glastonbury was unfortunately ruined, partly with deliberation. Defoe tells that in his day the remains of the abbey were mag- nificent, but that " within a few yards a Pres- byterian tenant has made more barbarous havoc here than had been since the Dissolution : for every week a pillar, a buttress, a window About Bath and Wells 123 jamb or an angle of fine hewn stone was sold to the best bidder. And they were actually stripping St. Joseph's Chapel for that purpose, and the squared stones were laid up by lots in the Abbot's Kitchen." He explains that peo- ple are too superstitious to employ these stones in private houses, lest they should incur the Founder 's Curse — a well recognized form of disaster which was commonly reported to be visited upon those who used stones taken from consecrated buildings; but he says that they are not afraid to pave the roads with them, or to erect barns and stables, and that " where few are so hardy as to apply them to their par- ticular or personal use, a public building shall be erected where all come in for their snack." He adds : ' ' Hereabout were buried King Ed- gar and many of the Saxon monarchs, whose royal ashes ought to have protected the whole. ' ' A naive recognition of the divine rights of kings! Glastonbury Tor is a fine landmark, and is visible for many miles. This was originally the tower of a church. It is said that it cost more to carry the stone to the top of the hill than to erect the building itself. They say that when King Henry VIII com- manded Abbot Whiting to surrender Glaston- 124 The Spell of England bury, the abbot held out bravely and refused to move. The king then threatened to send an army " to burn his kitchen about his ears." Abbot Whiting replied: " Then will I build such a kitchen as all the timber in the forest cannot burn." The great conical stone kitchen was the result. The king, however, had his satisfaction, for Abbot Whiting was hanged from the tower of St. Michael's on the hill. This event was regarded by the superstitious as the fulfilment of an old prophecy, which had promised: " A whiting shall swim over Glas- tonbury Tor." For centuries the plain folk had been expecting that the hill was to be sub- merged by some eccentric convulsion of nature — but this rendering of the prophecy surely seemed more plausible. Henry James tells us what it is we feel at Wells Cathedral — " the interior is vast and massive, but it lacks incident; the incident of monuments, sepulchres, and chapels." This is exactly the matter with Wells; it has less " spell " than most of the cathedrals, although it is interesting structurally, and is finely lighted. It is not poetical. Speaking of Wells, Miss Marshall says: " The city of deep wells has a charm which is STATUES FBOM "WELLS CATHEDRAL. About Bath and Wells 125 all its own, but that charm seems to culminate in the palace, with its lovely gardens, over- shadowed by the beautiful cathedral, which is rich in architectural and historic interest, and is, in all its details and associations, almost unrivalled." This enthusiasm is not shared automatically, but no doubt the study of any given cathedral in England leads to this feeling in the one who investigates it. Defoe calls Wells " one of the neatest cathe- drals in England." Perhaps that is another flaw in it. He alludes to the west front as " a complete draught of imagery," which is certainly true, and there are no more delight- ful Gothic statues in the country than these celebrated figures which so completely cover the fagade at WeUs. I always go back with zeal to the statements of Henry James, who seems to me to be the most appreciative traveller of modern times who has written his impressions for our amuse- ment. He says : * ' For those to whom broad England means chiefly the perfection of the rural picturesque, Devonshire means the per- fection of England. " Certainly there is a great enchantment in Devonshire, especially to those who are weary and want peace, although this, 126 The Spell of England to-day, cannot be found in the best known towns. I love to recall lazy youthful days in Devon- shire, when just to drive about these beautiful lanes was pastime enough. The ferns were so high and thick on either side of the road that they met across it; it was one of the amuse- ments of the day to sit forward in the carriage, and watch the ferns parted by the horses' breasts as they ploughed through the thick growth; it was not easy to believe that there lay a smooth straight road below, but always it seemed to me to be a fairy adventure! We spent a good deal of time in Devonshire when I was quite young, and a few items of our life there come before me as I think it over. I remember driving off to a big house in a lovely park, and being ushered into the draw- ing-room with my mother. There, amidst dam- asks covered with the inevitable British anti- macassar of heavy knitted lace; and among stuffed birds under glass shades, sat a glorious old dowager with a stately manner and keen dark eyes; she had been a great lady at court in her day, and I recall the subject of conver- sation on that very occasion. Lady L. told my mother that she had been commanded to dine with Queen Victoria at Buckingham Palace, About Bath and Wells 127 and that of course she must go. She had been quite ill with bronchitis. She had not left the house for weeks, but I well remember the proudly loyal answer to my mother 's question : " Of course I shall go, my dear; I am com- manded by my sovereign." Oh, the dignity and the absurdity of the seriousness which now entered into the question: " But I have not worn a low body for years, my dear; I'm a rack of bones! " There was awe in the an- nouncement. My mother suggested that it might be possible for her to go to dinner with- out a " low body." The dowager gasped. Such an idea had never entered the mind of the social set. But the idea evidently rankled. Whether it was vanity or fear for her health that finally actuated her, she confided to my mother some days later that she had spoken to Sir Davy Jones, or whatever was the name of her med- ical adviser, and that 'he had agreed with her that it would be inexpedient for her to appear in full dress, and had written over his own sig- nature to the Master of the Household to ac- quaint him with the fact that Lady L., having but just recovered from a severe illness, begged Her Majesty's permission to wear a high cut gown at the dinner, this being a physician's 128 The Spell of England certificate of her inability to appear in low neck. The dowager smiled peacefully, and added, ' ' I sent my maid to London for a smart cap, ' ' and she was assured by return mail that Her Majesty would deign to receive her humble subject even though so unsuitably attired. This was my first introduction to the status of the ritual of dress in England, and I was duly impressed. We afterwards learned that the entire conversation at the dinner table was taken up with discussing this famous " high body," and the old lady made twice the hit she would otherwise have achieved. I have since seen old ladies who combined prudence with convention by wearing false necks, made of thin gutta-percha, and with a diamond gorget to conceal the juncture at the throat, and a little lace jabot down the back to veil the seam where the neck hooked or but- toned together! There are ways provided for the canny; after all why should arti- ficial necks be worse than artificial hair or teeth? I remember an occasion on which we wished to enter a certain small museum. We had been trying to obtain admission through a workman on the premises, who was repairing the porch. He asked if we had permission to enter? We About Bath and Wel ls 129 admitted that we did not know that permission was necessary. Well, it was; so we must go to the house of the custodian, a professor, and request it. It was a private museum. We sug- gested that, considering we were on the spot and that it was quite a distance to the house of the professor, wouldn't it be possible for him to admit us? " No," he replied, wagging his head as one who had been there before; "no; 'e 'd have my 'ead off ; he 's a queer old stick. ' ' He laughed merrily but firmly, and we set off to the professor's house. My companion pulled the bell; it came straight out with a yard of wire. On his trying to push it back, the bell rang. I suppose the professor saw no reason for mending it. Any one would be sure to push it back, and then it would always be sure to ring. We were informed that the professor was busy, but that if the person who wished to see Mm was related to Joseph Addison, he would come down-stairs. It seems that this old gentleman, who was extremely aged, had a sin- gle passion in life, and that was, to sit and read — and he read only Joseph Addison. So you may fancy the reception we had. The mere coincidence of the name made such an appeal that he shook our hands, and alluded to Old England and Young America, and got jumping 130 The Spell of England up and down and nearly killed himself with hilarity ! Another old lady in Devonshire I remember with a good deal of pleasure. With a true British instinct for doing something towards the entertainment of the home, even if not to edify at a more remote range, this old lady used to paint pictures and write verses. These she signed with the name Meliora Cranthorpe. Doesn't that sound like a cluster of curls and a harp ? As to the works of art, — when I saw her more recent paintings, I attributed certain peculiarities to the decadence incident upon her declining years; but, when I saw the works executed in her youth, I perceived that there had never been an apex from which she could have descended. I suppose one of the quaintest things in Dev- onshire is the little seaside villagp of Clovelly. Dickens' description of it is most graphic: " The village was built sheer up the face of a steep and lofty cliff. There was no road in it, there was no wheeled vehicle in it, there was not a level yard in it. From the sea beach to the cliff top two irregular rows of white houses, placed opposite to one another, and twisting here and there, and there and here, rose, like the sides of a long succession of stages and About Eath and Wells 131 crooked ladders, and you climbed up the village or down the village, by staves between, some six feet wide or so, and made of sharp irreg- ular stones. . . . The red brown cliffs, richly wooded, to their extremest verge, had their softened and beautiful forms reflected in the bluest water. . . . Captain J. said : ' A mighty singular and pretty place it is as ever I saw in all the days of my life! ' " Cornwall is the land of the saints. Brittany and Cornwall have much in common, and both hark back to the Celtic origins. If there were space to consider these numerous saints, and the relations between the three counties, it would be most delightful. This coimty is dom- inated by the spell of legend, and this is well, for here was King Arthur's country, and here grew up all the fairy tales of the western shore, which are now the true Cornwall, in spite of tin mines and summer resorts, — I don't know which are most intrusive. I only know that the real Cornwall is hard to find now, and that one might as well be on the coast of Maine if it were not for the old legends. On the wild bluff of Tintagel once stood the castle of King Arthur, indeed, a few snags of stone are still shown, which are said to be part of the original structure. Here are the cele- 132 The Spell of England brated birds, the choughs, — black, with scarlet beaks and legs, — said to be reincarnations of the Arthurian soul; only four of these birds have ever been known to exist at one time, and they are said to be found nowhere in the world except at Tintagel. Of course fairy tales and superstition go hand in hand. A certain clergyman in Corn- wall once received the following letter: " Eev. Sir : I should take it as a great favour if your honour would be good enough to let me have the key of the church-yard to-night, to go in at twelve 'clock to cut off three bits of lead about the size of half a farthing each from three dif- ferent spouts, for the cure of fits." In connection with Tavistock I find an inter- esting item in the Church Wardens' accounts, " 29 April, 1660: collected for a company go- ing to New England taken by the Ostenders, 6s M." This is a casual mention of some of our own early settlers, who often came on Dutch ships, as we know. CHAPTER Vn LONDON NOTES ^N these days, when every one has de- scribed all the chief sights of London, I am not going to waste your time with an itinerary of the city. I suppose one nearly always goes straight to Westminster Abbey, as did the writer of a cer- tain diary in 1437, who speaks of : " going about London town and seeing the sights, and yes- terday were at mass in the Abbey Church at Westminster, which is a right fair town very nigh unto London." I recall the first visit of the Little One to Westminster Abbey. She evinced pardonable family pride in the statue of Joseph Addison, and when her father told her " Shakespeare's is just opposite to him," she exclaimed, " Oh, I must see Shakespeare's monument! I am devoted to him! He wrote about Ophelia, who got nervous and died! " In a moment she started, and said, " There is a sign that says ' Don't touch the monuments! ' and yet here I am standing on the tomb of Alfred Tennyson ! " 13S 134 The Spell of England While we of a later generation regret above everything the vast destruction caused by the great fire of London, this was not regarded as an unmixed misfortune in the eighteenth cen- tury. Defoe speaks of the fire as " furnishing the most perfect occasion ihat can ever happen in any city to rebuild it with pomp and regular- ity ! " In visiting the furtively situated church of St. Bartholomew the Great, in Smithfield, one passes houses that have been standing for centuries, having survived this very great fire. There is no outside to St. Bartholomew the Great, any more than an oyster overgrown by other shells can be said to have an outside which is properly its own ! But it has one of the finest interiors in all the world. The heavy Norman, over-conscientious pillars with their numerous high stilted arches enclosed by the apsidal am- bulatory, all are expressive of great age. The old polished wooden effigy of the founder, Rahere, the fusty dull white glass in Prior Bol- ton's pew, are only to be equalled by the delight- ful triforium gallery filled with broken sculp- ture and the romance of centuries. A charge of sixpence is made for an ascent to the trifo- rium, for which sum we cheerfully eneoimtered this peril. To turn again to the founder's tomb, we see London Notes 135 the estimable Rahere lying in state, his head resting on the neatly trimmed edges of his im- possibly stiff hair. Rahere was an ecclesiastic. About 1120, after having led a frivolous life, he decided to make a pilgrimage to Rome. Here he indulged in Roman fever. He made a vow that, if he were spared to return to his native land, he would build a hospital. He had a vision, during his convalescence, in which St. Bartholomew appeared to him, and suggested that he should also build a church in Smith- field. With commendable conscientiousness he founded both a hospital and a church on his return, in 1123. T. Deloney, a writer of the period, tells of Rahere 's early days. " At that time," he says, ' ' there lived in London a musician of great re- pute, named Reior, who kept his servants in such costly garments that they might come be- fore any prince. Their coats were all of one colour, and it is said that afterward the nobility of the land, noting it for a seemly sight, used in like manner to keep their men all in one livery. This Reior was the most skillfuUest musician that lived at that time, whose wealth was very great, so that all the instruments on which his servants plaid, were richly garnished with silver, and with studdes of gold ; the bowes 136 The Spell of England belonging to their violins were all likewise of pure silver. He was also for his wisdom called to great office in the city, who also builded at his cost, the priory and hospital of St. Bartholomew in Smithfield." The Hospital of St. Bartholomew has what Gonzales, a Spanish traveller, calls " a beauti- ful frontispiece," facing Smithfield, where Henry VIII stands in a niche " in full propor- tion." It is an interesting old building, with two great wall paintings by Hogarth, and a whole gallery of portraits of defunct physicians, presided over for some unknown reason by Henry VIII once more. When Sunday comes, it is always the ques- tion — " which church." On the continent one cannot exactly " spend Sunday; " in England one cannot do anything else. There is nothing to do but to go to church, and there are plenty of churches to go to. Fortunately the great fire also spared another ancient monument, the Temple Church. Palgrave disposes of the Temple Church in his " Merchant and the Friar," saying: " Red and misty rays, shed by lamps within, streamed through the upper win- dows of the round church whose structure still remains to excite rather than to satisfy the curi- osity of the architectural antiquary." There London Notes 137 are only three round churches in England ; that in Northampton, and that in Cambridge, besides the Temple Church. This is a fascinating old place, with its cross-legged effigies which have been the themes of controversies and argument too abstruse for our present needs. There are nine effigies of mailed knights, two of the twelfth century, seven of the thirteenth; there is also one stone coffin. When the effigies were restored in 1840, traces of colour were found on the stone; originally they were probably cor- rectly coloured according to heraldic use. " Their effigies have lain in this vast city," says Oliver Wendell Holmes, " and passed un- harmed through aU its convulsions. The great fire must have crackled very loudly in their stony ears, and they must have shaken day and night as the bodies of the victims of the Plague were rattled over the pavements." A very realistic picture of the still repose of death and the terrible activity of destruction. The old Staple Inn in Holborn is the very house in which Dr. Johnson wrote ' ' Easselas. ' ' The building is the oldest remaining in the locality, and dates from the reign of James I. We were once conducted about the " city " by an august alderman then in reasonable hope of soon being lord mayor. With this dignitary 138 The Spell of England we were enabled to enter haunts where only a sesame will open the doors. The halls of the various Guilds are not generally seen by casual visitors, except under similar escort. I was especially charmed with a naive portrait of Whittington hugging the redoubtable cat. It was a very primitive bit of portraiture, but probably really looked like the subject, not idealized by the flight of time and story. The dear old giants of Guild Hall! In our matter-of-fact land I think they would long ago ' have been removed; they would never have been allowed to preside for so long in such a dignified spot, on their funny inadequate legs! It is one of the charms of England that they leave the quaint and frivolous landmarks where they belong, and are not for ever trying to im- press one with their modernity. These figures at Guild Hall were meant to stand as the two giants who assisted the English while at war with the Romans. Corinus of Britain, and Gogmagog of Albion. They are usually spoken of as Gog and Magog. Corinus is forgotten, and the name of his associate has been split in two. So grows legend. Gog holds in his hand a weapon designed to create panic if ever there was one — a spiked ball on a chain set at the end of a stick, which exaggerated flail London Notes 139 rejoiced in the pacific name of the " morning star. ' ' Fabyan's Chronicles relate that in 1411 " Ye Guilde Hall in London began to be new edyfied, and of an olde and little cottage, made into a fayre and goodly house as it nowe appeareth." The Guild Hall was subjected to the great fire ; its roof burned, but the walls stood in spite of all. It was here at the Lord Mayor's banquet in 1663, that old Pepys was dining, when he had been taking some kind of pledge. He relates that he only drank some hypoeras, " which," he says, " doe not break my vow, it being, to the best of my judgment, only a mixed compound drink, and not any wine. ' ' Guild Hall was paved with Purbeck marble by the bequest of Eichard Whittington, who had been much associated with this spot in his life time. In the great fire it is reported to have stood in " a bright and shining coat, as if it had been a palace of gold or a great building of burnished brass." Miss Yonge, in the " Caged Lion," speaks of Guild Hall as " a building of grand proportions, which had lately been paved and glazed at Sir Eichard Whittington 's own expense. The bright new red and yellow tiles, and the stained glass of the tall windows high 140 The Spell of England up, as well as the panels of the wainscot, were embellished with trade marks and the armorial bearings of the guilds ... on an open hearth beneath the louvre or opening for smoke, burnt a fire." " Who would not be a Boswell? For miles and miles I'd walk To sit at ease In the Cheshire Cheese, And hear Sam Johnson talk." Just as I finished inscribing these lines in the Visitor's Book at this hallowed restaurant, I heard an expression come wafted from the con- secrated seat under the portrait, " Oh, golly, come off the roof ! ' ' Shades of the Dictionary ! Verily Americans are a dominant breed ! "William Henderson wrote: "If you'd dine at your ease Try the old Cheshire Cheese. At this famous resort In the Wine Office Court. " Joseph Pennell waxed eloquent about the Cheshire Cheese; he said: " I found I had stumbled on just what I had determined to make a hunt for. I was in one of the green baize boxes into which Mr. Pickwick was always London Notes 141 dropping, under the guidance of Sam Weller, whose knowledge of London was extensive and peculiar. ' ' He describes the yell with which the waiter called his order up the stairs, saying: " Soon down the same stairs came the transla- tion of the yell in the shape of the steak I had ordered, and with it the potatoes in their jackets all on old blue willow plates. " Your steak, sir; yes, sir. Anything else, sir? Nap- kin, sir? Oh, serviette. Yes, sir. All Ameri- cans like them, sir." There is no better way of describing the house than by quoting such words as those of Lady Colin Campbell: " A flare of unshaded gas-lights, up a small old- fashioned room the floor of which is covered with sawdust. The ceiling is white, with pro- jecting cross beams, and at the side of the room is a long oak table, at which Johnson, Goldsmith, and a few other choice spirits, were wont to sit and feed ... all along one side of the room are wooden partitions, exactly like old-fash- ioned pews, with hard cushionless seats. One of our party says, as she sits down, that she feels as if she were in church." It takes from six to twenty hours to cook the famous pudding, and it is said that the savoury odour sometimes reaches to the Stock Ex- change! The pudding is on a basis of beef- 142 The Spell of England steak, " agreeably tempered by kidneys, larks, and oysters. " At the time of the banquet to the Prince of Wales in Edinborough, four hundred skylarks were put in the pudding. Many people believe that Shakespeare has probably dined at the Cheshire Cheese. It is comparatively certain that Voltaire has done so ; and a long list of names — the ' ' rare ' ' Ben Jonson, Samuel Johnson the " Great," Pope, Congreve, Addison, Swift, Steele — and innu- merable literary lights, down to Charles Dickens. King Charles II and Nell Gwyn once ate a chop here, and Oliver Goldsmith, who lived in Wine Office Court, came here frequently while he was in process of writing " The Vicar of Wakefield." Walter Thorn- bury writes : ' ' We like to think that seated in the Cheese he perhaps espied and listened to the worthy but credulous vicar and his gosling son attending to the profound theo- ries of the learned and philosophic but shifty Mr. Jenkinson. We think now, by the win- dows, with a coarse light upon his coarse Irish features, and his round prominent brow, we see the watchful poet sit eyeing his prey, secretly enjoying the grandiloquence of the swindler and the admiration of the honest coun- try parson," The Cheshire Cheese withstood London Notes 143 the great fire, also, and the plague (we hope) passed it by. As Lewis Hough says: " The bench may be hard, but Dr. Johnson has sat upon it." It is a bit of old-time London con- served with much intelligence for modern use. Once, while sitting in this tavern, Ben Jonson and Sylvester had a dispute as to which could make the best couplet off-hand. " I Sylvester, Kissed your sister," exclaimed the one. Ben Jonson replied promptly : " I Ben Jonson Kissed your wife." " But that doesn't rhyme," objected Syl- vester. " But it's true," chuckled Jonson, amidst applause. While we are in the vicinity of Wine Office Court, I must not omit to mention a favourite haunt, a small spot, little known by travellers, called " The Arches." It is under the bridge at Ludgate, and is a sampling establishment of the most lavish sort. There are nice little heavy wooden tables, with cozy stubby little arm chairs by them. Here you sit, and order a 144 The Spell of England ' ' dock sample ' ' of anything you want — the whole place is full of barrels, piled high, and re- sembling a German Rathskeller. We stray out occasionally for a study morn- ing in South Kensington with its tabulated beauty, or to the British Museum, where I had permission to examine minutely the most precious of the mediaeval manuscripts, and to sketch from the illuminations. Dr. Holmes professes to tell us how to see the British Museum. ' ' Take lodgings next door to it," he advises, " and pass all your days at the Museum during the whole period of your natu- ral life. At three-score and ten you will have some faint conception of the contents, sig- nificance and value of the great British Insti- tution, ' ' Any one who has not seen a London " dark day " has an experience " in front of him," as the Cockneys say. I do not mean a fog ; that is a self-evident state of the atmosphere, only differing from other fogs by being thicker and smokier; but we were once overtaken by a " dark day " in June. This is an unusual sea- son for this special demonstration. We hap- pened to be in the British Museum, and at about noon it simply grew dark, just as if the night had fallen. There was no fog; it had been a London Notes 145 good day, and the atmosphere was clear. We went out on the portico to watch the curious state of things, and it was simply a normal night scene. The lights were all lighted, in shops and houses, and it appeared to he night. Objects could be seen only as one sees them at night. The expedient of lighting up did not occur to the Museum, however. When we started to go upstairs, they explained that it would be too dark to see anything. So we de- scended to the basement for luncheon, to pass the time. While we were thus occupied it cleared off — and day actually dawned again. By two o'clock you would not have known this afternoon from any other. The whole phenom- enon had occupied about two hours. The description of a London fog given by Dickens in " Our Mutual Friend " is inspired. Listen to him while he describes a regular " pea-souper." You can breathe the actual words and get a sulphuric reaction ! "It was a foggy day in London, and the fog was heavy and dark. Animate London, with smarting eyes and irritated lungs, was blinking, wheezing, and choking ; inanimate London was a sooty spectre divided in purpose between being visible and invisible, and so being wholly neither. Gas- lights flared in the shops with a haggard and 146 The Spell of England unblest air, as knowing themselves to be nigM creatures wMch. had no business abroad under the sun ; while the sun itself, when it was for a few moments dimly indicated through circling eddies of fog, showed as if it had gone out, and was collapsing flat and cold. Even in the sur- rounding country it was a foggy day, but there the fog was grey ; whereas in London it was, at about the boundary line, dark yellow, and a little within it, brown ; until at the heart of the city ... it was rusty black. ' ' And in ' ' Bleak House " he goes even farther into symbolism, and adds : " in the very heart of the fog sits the Lord High Chancellor in his High Court of Chancery. ' ' There are many hours in London when one is weary. One has gone about a great deal, over great distances, and finally there comes a mo- ment when the feet demand rest and the brain cries out for a chance to digest some of the mar- vels that it has been absorbing. Then it is that I collect about me some of the choicest society of the world — the society of the old writers and chroniclers, and, through their eyes, I visit the London of the past, rested, refreshed, and spellbound. The historic spell and the literary spell are perhaps the most dominant things in London, after the obvious immediate appeal of London Notes 147 the whirling modern city. What a debt I owe to Stow, with his charming " Survey of Lon- don in the Reign of Elizabeth," and how pleas- ant it is to follow some of the foreign travellers who have sojourned here — Paul Hentzner, Manuel Gonzales, and the young Prussian priest, Moritz. There is absolutely no limit to the fascinating books dealing with London and its history. How few people who go down town, and listen to Bow Bells, realize the origin of the name. It comes with a surprise to many to read in Stow's " Survey: " " This church in the reign of William the Conqueror, being the first in the city built on arches of stone, was therefore called St. Mary de Arcubus, or Le Bow." This fact of its having been built on arches gave the church its historic name. There is a quaint inscription at Newgate which states that " being damnified by the fire in 1666, it was repaired ... in 1672." The origin of Cripplegate is interesting. According to Thomas Deloney: " St. Paul's steeple was so hie that it seemed to pierce the clowdes ; on the top whereof was a great and mighty weathercock of cleane silver, the which notwith- standing seemed to be small as a sparrow to men's eyes, it stood so exceeding hie, the 148 The Spell of England which goodly weathiereock was afterwards stolen away by a cunning cripple, who found meanes one night to climb up to the top of the steeple, and tooke it downe; with the which, and a great sum of money which he had got together by begging ... he builded a gate on the north side of the city, which to this day is called Cripplegate. " A rustic in the Harleian MS. in the British Museum is thus reported as having visited London : " When I came first to London Town, I was a novice, as most men are; Methought ye king dwelt at the sign of the Crown And the way to heaven was through the Star! " I set my horse and walked to St. Paul's. ' Lord ' thought I, ' what a church is here! ' And then I swore by all Christian souls 'Twas a mile long, or very near. " In " A Short Description of England," by Paul Hentzner, occurs this characteristically Teutonic statement : " It is governed by its own king, who owns no superior but God." (This was written in the reign of a queen, as it hap- pens !) This historian evidently feels that the English are a little too self-satisfied. He adds that they are " active and lively, though of a thicker make than the French," but in his elo- London Notes 149 sing paragraph he makes it clear that he dis- approves of their cheerful ways. There is a distinct huffiness in this : " they are vastly fond of great noises that fill the ear, such as the firing of cannon, drums, and the mingling of bells, so that it is common for a number of them that have got a glass in their heads, to go up into some belfry and ring the bells for hours to- gether for the sake of exercise." This sounds to me very much as if Mr. Hentzner had had apartments in the neighbourhood of some popu- lar steeple, and had had an overdose of curfew. * ' If they see a foreigner very well made or par- ticularly handsome," he continues wrathfully, ' ' they will say ' It is a pity he is not an English- man! ' " Hentzner relates how visitors to the Tower, even in Queen Elizabeth's time, had to give up their swords; to-day even small bags, kodaks and parcels are filched from the travel- ler, lest anything should be brought either in or out that should be undesirable. How characteristically Spanish is the attitude of Don Manuel Gonzales, who visited London in 1731, and whose mind immediately and instinct- ively turned to the question of the fighting possibilities, and the protective provisions of the town. Of the adaptability on which Ameri- cans pride themselves we have an early instance 150 The Spell of England told by Stow : ' ' This yeare were brought unto the king three men taken in the new-found islands by Sebastiano Gabato, (Cabot). . . . These men were clothed in beasts' skins, and ate raw flesh, but spake such a language as no man could understand them; the which three men were seen in the king's court at Westmin- ster two years later, clothed like English- men, and could not be discerned from English- men! " In the Tower of London, in that pathetic Beauchamp Chapel, where the numerous pris- oners have carved their messages to posterity on the walls, are a few precepts well worth studying. Charles Bailey, a firm supporter of the Queen of Scots, cut this inscription in 1571 : " The most unhappy man is he that is not pacient in adversity; for men are not killed with the adversities they have, but with the impacience which they suffer." Another, equally striking, is by A. Poole, 1564 : " To serve Grod — to endure penance — to obey fate — is to reign." Poole was guilty of a con- spiracy to attempt to dethrone Elizabeth. An- other, in 1586, " An evil conscience makes men fear even security," is cut by G. Gifford, a pensioner of Queen Elizabeth. The subtle differences between fixst-dass London Notes 151 London hotels and our own first-class hotels are amusing to note. I have known every one at breakfast to be inquiring at once for teaspoons. All the waiters were searching for them ; there seemed to be none. People were using soup spoons for coffee ; no teaspoons came. Whether they had all been annexed over-night by souvenir hunters, or what was their fate, we shall never know. Three days later the same state of things prevailed. Again no teaspoons. A request for them elicited only a pitying smile, and an expression on the face of the waiter such as one might assume when asked for a green cheese moon. Dessert spoons were the smallest. Whatever explanation might have been offered, none was vouchsafed. Behind the sympathetic expression of the waiters lurked a secret impossible to fathom. ' ' Oh, if you only knew what you are asking ! " it seemed to plead. Perhaps the king had sent out an edict pro- claiming that no more teaspoons were to be used that week in Great Britain ! Again : imagine an American city hotel taking all the trunks in at the front door and depositing them in a little entry about five feet wide, through which the guests must also pass. And fancy an elevator with little wooden fold- ing doors on every floor, with handles and 152 The Spell of England latches for the man to seize, twist, and let go, as he plunges through the air ! I marvel every year that the same man runs the ' ' lift. ' ' One would have expected him to have lost both hands long ago. An infantile trust in Cook's Tourist system was displayed one day in the hotel office. A man was making his plans to go to Germany. He said to the ticket seller : ' ' Now you know I want tickets to Munich, but I'm going to get you to just jot down the names of places where it would pay me to get off on the way. " As if any place on earth would pay a person with such outlook! I often wonder what motive brings some people across the ocean. The taxi has now practically driven out the hansom, which is now officially denominated as a " horse-drawn cab." Hansoms had all kinds of possibilities. We were once quietly driving along, when suddenly the dash-board flew into the cab! The horse had kicked, and, if it had not been that his leg was caught up over the dasher, he would probably have started to run. I hope I shall never again have to get out of a carriage brushing against the sole of a horse's hoof ! I felt that if I tickled him inadvertently he might kick again ! When one goes to take an express in the Lon- London Notes 153 don subway, as we would say, he here boards instead " a non-stop run " in the " tube." One day we had occasion to inquire for the American Embassy. Naturally we applied to a policeman. The answer was, " "Why, I think I've seen it about somewhere ! ' ' From his man- ner one might suppose that the Embassy was a migratory institution, — a sort of furtive gipsy wagon, liable to change its locality without notice. In one street we saw a house with all the win- dows bricked up. After swamping ourselves in conjecture as to its use, we noticed that on the other side there were plenty of windows, but all fitted with iron bars! The house was an epileptic hospital, and this device of brick- ing up the front was simply to keep the inmates from being seen by people ia the street! No traveller should fail to see an English trial in the law-courts, or in Old Bailey. It is so strange to see the judge taking down the tes- timony himself, with a quill pen, writing it laboriously in long liand. If the witness hap- pens to be a rapid speaker, the judge calmly in- terrupts him, saying, " Wait a bit — I haven't got that yet," and holds up the evidence till he has caught up with the statement of the witness. It is also instructive to see the partisan attitude 154 The Spell of England of the judge. "We enjoyed the deliberate way he would turn to the witness, and say, " Then you would say on the whole that the prisoner is guilty? " Not liking to amend so excellently concise a statement the witness will admit ten- tatively that of course this might be the case: " It has something that look, yer honour; " whereupon the judge takes down the evidence, repeating aloud, as being the words of the wit- ness : " It is my conviction that the prisoner is guilty." I suppose this autocratic method of interpretation has grown up through the in- herent distrust of the people being capable of doing anything without the guidance of their self-appointed superiors. All this reminds me of a certain day in 1902, when we were in London awaiting the Corona- tion of Edward VII, which was to be the great event of that next week. We were in the Law Courts when we heard of the king's illness. A paper was handed to the judge by a messenger. The judge read it, and rolled up his eyes, and dropped the paper with a gesture of despair. This was interesting enough, but the one effort was to keep from alarming the jury. Of course they looked very curious, but no explanation was vouchsafed them. The trial proceeded. Soon we heard whispering in the back of the London Notes 155 court room, unrelated to the trial at issue. Then newspaper " extras " began to leak in — they were passed about, and created much excite- ment. Finally we grasped the fact that the news so announced was that the Coronation would be postponed. To ascertain the reason (illness being quoted) we arose with the major- ity of the audience, and went out. We asked the policeman. He said : " Ah, it's his throat, sir." We crossed the street, and read a bulletin. This was worded to discourage any but scientific persons. It said: " The king is suffering from an attack of perityphlitis. There has been a recrudescence, and an operation is deemed nec- essary." Not being absolutely clear ourselves as to the state of His Majesty, and wishing to learn more, we asked a clergyman. He looked at us aghast, and replied, ''I'm sure I can't make out." We had to be contented for the nonce. All that evening there were reports that the king was dead. We were riding on top of an omnibus, and the driver told us how he had a friend, a cab driver. This driver had just told him that he had taken a fare to Buckingham Palace, and that, as the fare descended and en- tered, the doctor came out, and remarked to this gentleman, '* Ah, the king passed away at five- 156 The Spell of England twenty." That seemed pretty direct evidence — the driver was more than convinced. The first bulletin which was put outside the palace was promptly stolen. Of course every one thought it was an American who had taken it. I fancy it was. When our friends heard of the king's illness, they all condoled with us on our disappoint- ment. Now, to tell you the truth, since it had to be, it is a much more interesting sight to witness the London populace in a great na- tional crisis than it is to see a procession go by. To see the stolid English shopkeeper rushing about the streets exclaiming that he is ruined, and to watch the crowds of working people banked around Buckingham Palace waiting for bulletins, while all the time they half suspected that the king was dead, were sights never to be forgotten, and to be seen only once, so far, in English history, in connection with a Corona- tion. Although we should have been delighted to have seen the procession, this experience was unique, and most interesting. After a delightful luncheon at Lord F.'s we saw the Coronation " commands," one can hardly call so peremptory a summons an invi- tation, bidding the Viscount and Lady F. be present at Westminster Abbey on the day ap- London Notes 157 pointed, " All excuses apart." The king did not realize that he himself would be the only excuse why they would not be there! I had the coronet of a viscountess on my head that day, and felt quite near to the ceremony ! And a very uncomfortable little coronet it was, held in place by two gold hat-pins which passed through holes in a silver rim — not at all in the right place! The coronet was round, and of silver, partly gilt, with pearls touching each other all the way round. The top, like all the coronets, was of crimson velvet. We were invited to Westminster Hall to hear the final rehearsal of the Coronation music. It was magnificent, superbly rendered by a choir of five hundred voices. They were conducted by Sir Frederic Bridge (commonly called West- minster Bridge), who is not only a good com- poser and director, but a good deal of a wit as well. His little interpolations during the rehearsal were most informal and amusing. In one of those momentous pauses, where it is im- portant for all the voices to hold themselves in readiness to come in gently but exactly to- gether, one tenor was suddenly heard to tune up prematurely. Sir Frederic called them to order with a rap of his baton, and exclaimed, " Now I see that this is the place where some 158 The Spell of England gentleman is going to sing a solo which is not advertised! " When it came to the responses in the Litany, he remarked in a dry way, ' ' This part of the service is to be sung a half-note higher than it is written, as that suits the voices of the bishops concerned." And in another place, he exclaimed, " Don't let foreigners go away imagining that each has heard the service sung in his own language ; this is English, and we don 't want any doubt about it. ' ' After the rehearsal, we strolled about a little in the abbey precincts, and happened to come upon Sir Frederic's house. On the door was hung a placard, with this inscription: " Sir Frederic Bridge has no vacancies in the ehoir; he has no tickets for rehearsals ; he cannot ad- mit any one into the Abbey. So please do not ring. ' ' Among the Coronation souvenirs which were sold that year were little irreverent gutta- percha masks of the royal family, so that one saw children in the street pinching the king into a wink, or the queen into a cross-eyed stare ! When one goes to Whitehall at noon to see the stately little ceremony of shifting the horse guards, it pays to run in and look at the Nelson relics in Whitehall. With true scandal-loving Loudon Notes 159 zeal I read Ms letters to Emma, and espe- cially the codicil to Ms will wherein he be- queaths her to the British nation to honour and protect. The nation evidently declined the legacy with thanks, for Emma, Lady Hamilton, died a pauper in Calais. London has different large exhibitions each year at Shepherd's Bush, to which the British public flock vigorously, gravely acquiring infor- mation regarding the life of other nations. If Americans take these shows in a lighter vein it may be because everything over there seems to be in a lighter vein; it is our holiday and not our responsibility, and that fact shifts the mental attitude surprisingly. One year the celebration was the " Entente Cordiale," a French exposition, planned largely to meet the long felt want of friendly inter- course and mutual respect between England and France, and which now seems to be happily established. In his " Travels in France " in 1787, Arthur Young remarks, being sufficiently advanced to understand this need, " If an Eng- lishman receives attentions in France because he is an Englishman, what return ought to be made to a Frenchman in England is sufficiently obvious." Well, it was made in 1908. Even the Alhambra took it up, and ran a gorgeous 160 The Spell of England ballet all summer, called " Two Flags," in which Union Jacks and tri-couleurs were so involved with myriads of pink legs that no Frenchman or Englishman of however radical a stamp could have questioned that the two nations had a great deal in common. Another year the celebration was advertised as a Japanese Exhibition, but the French fla- vour still seemed to predominate, while the dis- play consisted chiefly of cafes and buffets under the management of the redoubtable Lyons. The Japanese features were ex- tremely furtive. It was possible to wander for hours and not find them. But when we went we found one absolutely worthy and genuine exhibit in the form of the Eoyal Wrestlers of Japan, including the world's unpronounceable champion heavy-weight, who marched in with the sword given him by the Mikado. The wrestling was really artistic and quite thrilling. We were struck by the extreme likeness be- tween the announcements of the manager of a Japanese wrestling match and the intoning of the service in Latin by a French priest. I think there has not yet been a German dem- onstration at Shepherd's Bush. Let us pray that it may be a pleasant one if it occurs. One season, I recall, there was an American London Notes 161 Exhibition running at the Crystal Palace, which made no attempt to discriminate between Alaska and Peru. Among some of the adver- tised features were " A voyage down the rap- ids," " A fairy archipelago," and one which puzzled us — "An aquatic spectacle in the Rockies." I suppose the designer of this pag- eant thought that the " Rockies " had some- thing to do with rocks on the sea-shore. There was also a popular number called " South American Speciality, or Plantation Pastimes," in which a Virginia negro girl was hailed as ' ' The Queen of Ethiopian Comedy. ' ' Another time, but this was very many years ago, before Shepherd's Bush was inaugurated, we visited a display at Earl's Court, called " Paris m London," and failed to find it. Still earlier they had ojBFered us " "Venice in Lon- don," which had more verisimilitude in that every available space was flooded, if it would hold water, and gondolas plied upon lakelets in the accepted manner of such institutions. I re- member that the system of illumination at Earl's Court in those days was most primitive. Rows of gas pipe ran round all the architec- tural features, with little lamps at intervals of three or four inches. At a given moment the gas was turned on, and then a man with a gas 162 The Spell of England lighter began to go around lighting the little bulbs one by one. In five minutes the odour of escaping gas was almost too much even in the open air ; and it was fifteen or twenty minutes before the " brilliant illumination surprised the festal night." Their idea of an illumina- tion is only equalled by their interpretation of iced drinks. Last year there was a general exhibit of the prowess of the British Empire, to celebrate King George's Coronation. The Indian crafts were especially well represented. It was an amusing mixture of Occident and Orient to see an Indian woman doing fine embroidery in native dress, with eyeglasses which were sup- ported on a gold nose-stud ! The languid industry of Indian ivory workers is very characteristic. Slow and lazy, and ap- parently indifferent as to results, they accom- plish miracles of delicate work. The Colonies were finely represented in all their glory. Canada, the Granary, as usual, was typified with shredded wheat effects under glass, — I don't know why this especial form of decoration seems to appeal to them. They had a Canada arch at King Edward's Corona- tion, made of glass, with samples of grain, and it was adorned with green and crimson aniline London Notes 163 dyes. In the rain the whole construction leaked, and the colours ran into the wheat, and it was not pretty at all ! The London Zoo is one of the most delightful spots on a good day. I remember a couple of women whom I once heard talking by the peli- cans ' pool. The birds were eating fish with their queer, clapping, baggy bills, and one of these persons exclaimed: " No, they're not hostriches after all; I thought not, 'coz their legs didn't stand 'igh." While driving in the park, I once told the Little One to watch the other carriages, and she would see lords and ladies and duchesses. She replied: " Yes, I have noticed several duchesses." At that moment a couple of stately ladies passed, and I called her attention to them. " They don't look like duchesses," she observed. " Their noses don't turn up." I said, ' ' Why, you don 't suppose that duch- esses all have turned-up noses, do you? " To which came at once the reply, " Oh, yes; like Alice in Wonderland's Duchess; that's what I've been noticing all this time! " Many years ago we heard an argument in the House of Commons as to the advisability of having telegraphic communication between lighthouses and life-boat stations on the coast. 164 The Spell of England to save time in case of shipwreck. It seemed a self-evident necessity, and of course some one observed that it had been customary for a long time in America. That is always a challenge. Sir J. F. got up and remarked that he was tired of hearing what they did in America ; and it seemed to him a perfectly useless expense, because wrecks might occur in mid-ocean, where no lighthouse would see them. This brilliant reasoning, that there was no need to look after the wrecks on the coast because you could not take care of those in mid-ocean, seemed to be considered an argument. The lack of humour among the English is the most humourous thing about them to an Amer- ican. There is an inability in many English minds to see a humourous situation if it is not intended. This is the real difference between English and American humour; they have plenty of wit — their clever men are cleverer than ours, often; but it is never expected that a laugh will follow if anything happens that is unintentionally funny. I remember once at an Italian restaurant seeing a solemn young cleric place his hat in a precarious rack, and then seat himself below it. As he sat down, the hat fell symmetrically upon his head. Oblivious of our mirth, he rose decorously and replaced it, not London Notes 165 a smile crossing his placid face. It was not intended to fall, and therefore there was noth- ing funny. If it had been arranged on an elas- tic, on purpose to perform this feat, in a pan- tomime, every one would have roared. It was interesting once to chance upon a great Suffragette rally in Trafalgar Square. We stood and listened to the women shouting their injuries to a sea of smiling faces. These physically weak people were crying aloud for freedom, but most of them looked as if they needed " cherishing " more than anything else. We saw also the great procession, thousands of women marching in squads, representing various professions, whole blocks of trained nurses, rows of teachers, stenographers, and all the artistic callings, jogging along beneath a series of banners. On the banners were por- traits of all the leading women in history — they had spared no pains to look up every woman who had accomplished anything, inde- I)endent of creed or morals — Cleopatra, Queen Elizabeth, Joan of Arc, Catherine Bar-Lass, Florence Nightingale, — women who had be- come conspicuous or were capable in any line. At the very end of the procession (where of course the women could not see him) came a lone man with a sense of humour. This indi- 166 The Spell of England vidual bore a pike, from which hung a large fig-leaf, framed, and at the top of which was an apple — a modest tribute to Eve, who had been quite overlooked in this brilliant galaxy. The original destiny of the wife and mother had not received recognition except from a base man ! The only other suggestion of it was one woman who carried a baby in the proces- sion! A sweet little spot to visit in the heart of teeming London is the peaceful little Ely Place, with its church of St. Etheldreda. This was once the London headquarters of the Bishops of Ely, and was probably built in 1295. Shake- speare makes allusion to its lovely garden, of which only a patch containing a few fig trees remains. In " King Eichard III," the Duke of Gloucester says to the Bishop of Ely: " My lord, when I was last in Holborn, I saw good strawberries in your garden there. I do be- seech you send for some of them. The Bishop replies, " Marry, I will, my lord, with all my heart." One can kneel in prayer in this little church and no sound of the outer traffic can penetrate through its walls, which are eight feet thick. It is a Roman Catholic establishment, and has London Notes 167 an old-world charm. At the time of the perse- cutions of the Catholics in 1622, it served as a refuge for those of the faith who would have been in danger elsewhere. It was then occu- pied by the Spanish ambassador, Gondomar, and Lady Gondomar and her maids used them- selves to rise early and sweep the chapel in preparation for mass. The last time the Pas- sion Play was acted in England it was there performed before Gondomar. Father Lockhart says that it is likely that the first Christian church in London stood on this site, which was then a wooded suburb out- side the Eoman city, and that the British bishop may have received on this very spot the news of the martyrdom of St. Alban at Verulam in the Dioclesian persecution, in 303. One of the nicest experiences at Fulham Pal- ace was going out and eating strawberries " under the nets," a feat warranted to break backs, and which would probably be condemned as cruel if compulsory, but a perfect joy as long as you are not obliged to do it, like any other sport. The old original moat at Fulham, a mile around, is still filled with water. A striking thing to be seen at Lambeth Pal- ace is a lectern which is a memorial to Arch- bishop Benson. It bears the inscription: ** In 168 The Spell of England the midst of death we are in life. ' ' The inver- sion seems to me singularly happy. Midsummer — ' ' towards autumn, when the town is thin," as M. Gonzales says — is about as lonely in St. George's, " Hanover Square," as Eobinson Crusoe was before Friday dawned upon him. We once stepped into its glacial isolation late in August. The place was empty except for a curate who was intoning daily prayer all by himself. The instant he saw our heads over the backs of the pews he got up and began the Psalter, waiting for respon«es ! We once spent an evening watching a large fire consume the top floors of the Carlton Hotel. Our American cerebration would not permit us to comprehend the methods of the London fire department. From where we stood we saw simply flames and smoke pouring out of the roof, with no ladders and no streams of water attacking it; but I am told that on the inner court much was accomplished. After some hours they seemed to subdue the flames, al- though to our limited vision it seemed as if nothing was being done; as if the actual strength and thickness of the walls were its only hope. The crowd was allowed to accumu- late where it would, and in London that means everywhere. When the fire engines arrived, London Notes 169 about twenty miniates apart, they had to slow up not to annihilate the populace ! After stand- ing atid watching the blaze for some time we moved off; it was amusing to see the electric advertisements of the Phoenix Fire Assurance Company on the opposite corner still " wink- ing " the information that it was " limited." In the midst of the excitement the Home Sec- retary drove up in a taxi ; instantly the crowd cheered, and attention was diverted from the fire. The next morning the paper announced that the crowd hissed, but we happened to hear the cheering ourselves. At intervals well- dressed people who had been dining elsewhere would burst through the crowd and rush to the fated hotel. Some of them may have left babies on the top floor, whereas others at least had elaborate wardrobes at stake. One woman was in a perfect panic, her eyes protruding with terror. It was quite a dreadful sight. Stopping in at a cigar store on the way back, the man greeted us with a cordial bow, and a busy " Good evening, sir — nice fire, sir! " as one who should say, " See how we put our- selves out to entertain our guests ! " An Amer- ican actor, who was taking a bath at the time, was the only one to perish. CHAPTER VIII HERE AND THEEE NEAB LONDON ijINDSOE and Eton, and Hampton Court, are almost parts of London, and hardly come within the scope of this chp-pter. But it is desirable to see them all, of course. The best account of Windsor, even if one were going to read it as a guide, is to be found in Harrison Ainsworth's " Windsor Castle." It would not usually oc- cur to one to apply to such a source, but it is rather a pet theory of mine that really good fiction has often more instruction in it than commonplace statement in an ordinary unim- aginative guide book. Some say that Windsor received its name from the winding shore of the Thames. Eton, alluded to even in Elizabethan times as " a famous school for polite letters," has always held its own ever since, and remains that and much more, to-day. Then it is obligatory to wander througli the gardens of Hampton Court and get properly lost in the maze. But it detracts somewhat 170 Here and There Near London 171 from the sense of adventure to know that a man is sitting on a high platform in order to see where you go, and to give you instructions how to get out in case you are really seriously mislaid among the bushes! We are told by a contemporaneous writer that the garden at Hampton Court was first laid out " in a par- terre of scroll work in box, which was not only very costly at first making, but was also very expensive in keeping constantly clipped; which," he continues, " together with the ill scent, which frequently reached the royal apartn^ients, occasioned its being demolished." Well for the royal family if they never smelt anything worse than a box hedge ! According to a German traveller of Eliza- bethan times Hampton Court was " magnifi- cently built by Cardinal Wolsey, in ostentation of his wealth." After the gardens, in interest, come the picture galleries. Edward Fitz Gerald says: " Close by is Hampton Court, with its stately gardens, and fine portraits inside; all very much to my liking. I am quite sure gar- dens should be formal, and unlike general na- ture," Daniel Defoe says that " all Europe has been rummaged, as we may say," for pic- tures for the royal gallery at Hampton Court. Another attractive place near by is Straw- 172 The Spell of England berry Hill. Edward Fitz Gerald testifies to its charms: " Strawberry Hill for me! I looked all over it, — you know all the pictures, jewels, curiosities were sold some ten years ago; only bare walls remain. The walls, indeed, here and there stuck with Gothic woodwork, much of it therefore in less good taste — all a toy, but yet a toy of a very clever man. The rain is coming through the roofs, and gradually disengaging the confectionery battlements and cornices." Richmond was originally the famous Palace of Shene, to which allusion is so often noticed by readers of mediaeval English history. The name was changed by Henry VTI. Fabyan thus alludes to the occurrence: " In this year " (the sixteenth of Henry VII) " the twenty-first of December in the night was an hideous thun- der; and this year was the name of the king's palace of Shene changed and called after that day Ryehemont." There is little to be seen at Richmond now, and it is usually a very crowded little excursion boat that plies there. The highest ground between York and Lon- don is High Barnet. Over this road once came little Oliver Twist, " limping slowly into the little town of Barnet." Among the Paston Letters is one from Sir John to his mother, relating to the celebrated Here and There Near London 173 battle of Barnet, April 18, 1471: " Mother, I recommend me to you, letting you weet that, blessed be God, my brother John is alive, and f areth well, and in no peril of death ; neverthe- less he is hurt with an arrow on his right arm below the elbow, and I have sent him a surgeon, which hath dressed him, and he telleth me that he trusteth that he shall be all whole within a right short time. . . . Item, as for me, I am in good case, blessed be God, and in no jeop- ardy of my life as me list myself, for I am at my liberty if need be. . . . There are killed upon the field, half a mile from Barnet, on Easter Sunday, the Earl of Warwick, the Mar- quis Montague, Sir William Tyrell, Sir Lewis Johns, and divers other esquires of our coun- try, Godmerston and Booth. And on the king's party, the Lord Cromwell, the Lord Say, Sir Humphrey Bourchier of our country, which is a sore moaned man here, and other people of both parties to the number of more than a thou- sand." Defoe indicates the site of the field of Barnet fight, saying that "it is a green spot near King's End, between St. Albans and Hatfield Eoad, a little before they meet." In 1740 a stone column was erected on which is a long inscription, with full particulars of the battle. 174 The SpeU of England One of the best descriptions I have ever read of any battle, is that by A. J. Church in ' ' The Chantry Priest of Bamet." One can follow the action as if one were on the field, and the language is well chosen and of a sufficiently archaic type to lend verisimilitude. " There was such a mist as I have never seen at any time," observes the priest. " Already when we set forth from London it had begun to rise from the earth, and now, as we came nigh to Bamet town, it was so thick that a man could scarce see a spear's length before him. This, it was commonly reported, was brought about by the enchantments of one Bungay, a Black Friar. ... Be the cause what it might, so much is certain, that it favoured the king greatly. . . . Having therefore ascended the hill without hindrance, and passed through Barnet town, he made his encampment on the plain hard by. . . . And now I will make men- tion of another thing in which the mist served the king. For he, thinking to set his army in array over against the enemy, but not knowing truly where they lay, did extend his right wing too far, ... so it came to pass that his left wing was withdrawn from the right of the en- emy, and thus escaped no small loss. . . . And so did the mist serve the king a second time, Here and There Near London 176 and that by his own error, so wonderful are the ways of God towards man. ..." When the actual fighting begins, the Chantry Priest is just as graphic. " About five of the clock, the trumpets sounded for the attack, and the king's army moved forwards. But whither they were mov- ing, or with whom they were about to contend in battle, this they could scarce see. ... At the first therefore, if I may so speak, there was not one battle, but many. For the soldiers fought not according to the plans and counsels of their leader, but rather contended against their enemies in companies of ten and com- panies of a hundred, so that there was not one line of battle, but a line broken into many parts." Every phase of the great fight is dealt with in detail. After a long description of the manoeuvres, he tells how a west wind came up and dispelled the mist, " and showed the whole plain." He then says that the sight was one on which even the men of war could hardly bear to look, for, although there were not more dead than in many other battles, ' ' yet here the dead lay together in a small space. The cause whereof was this : that the mist had kept them that fought together, none knowing where or among whom lie might find himself if he should 176 The Spell of England move from his place. And even as they fought, so did they fall, so that for the space of two or three furlongs was the ground . . . covered with dead bodies of men and horses. . . . And it seemed to me that the sight was even more dreadful to behold because of the bright shi- ning of the sun. ' ' The battle of Barnet, as has been indicated, was fought on Easter Sunday. After examining a battle-field, Edward Fitz Gerald once wrote to a friend: " I have just seen some of the bones of a dragoon and his horse, who were found foundered in a morass. , . . Poor dragoon, much dismembered by time. His less worthy members, having been left in the owner's summer house for the last twenty years, have disappeared one by one; his skull is in safe keeping in the hall, not a bad skull neither, and in it some of the teeth yet holding, and a bit of the iron heel of his boot put into the skull by way of convenience. This is what Sir Thomas Browne calls ' making a man act his antipodes! ' I have got a fellow to dig at one of the great general graves in the field, and he tells me to-night that he has come to bones ; to-morrow I will select a neat specimen or two ! ' ' These investigations were made on the field where the battle of Naseby was fought. Apropos of the battles of the Civil War, may Here and There Near London 177 be quoted a cynical little verse by Crabbe, sum- ming up the reigns of the two Charles : "There is King Charles and all his golden rules, Who proved Misfortune was the best of schools. And then his son, who, tried by years of pain, Proved that misfortunes may be sent in vain!" A good many of the Cathedral towns lie within easy run of London, and they make pleasant excursions when one is staying in town for any length of time. An agreeable day may be spent at St. Al- bans, where one sees the old Norman Abbey with its solid piers and quaint grotesques, and one of the finest triforium galleries in England. St. Albans occupies very nearly the site of the old Eoman city of Verulam. An old adage runs: " When Verulam stood, St. Albans was a wood; Now Verulam's down, St. Albans is a town. " In the northern transept are some of the very old Saxon balusters which were used in the building erected by King Offa considerably over a thousand years ago. It must have been a lively scene in the abbey when, in the Civil 178 The Spell of England war, the soldiers are reported to have ripped up the remains of the Saxon and Norman kings there buried, throwing their bones ' ' against the painted glass." The oldest house in England is to be seen at St. Albans. It is a tiny octagonal structure, and has been an inn, by name the Fighting Cocks, on which was once a sign, possibly face- tious, " Old Round House, rebuilt after the Flood. ' ' It has probably been actually ten- anted ever since Saxon times. In 1140 the Abbot of St. Albans, " having observed two pious women to have erected a hut for their dwelling, constructed a house for their better accommodation, and ordered that thirteen sisters should inhabit the same under certain rules and orders. . . . And because the first women used to dip their dry bread in the water of the spring, the place was called Sop- well." This was the origin of the celebrated Sopwell Nunnery, which was one of the numer- ous places where Henry VIII is said to have been privately married to Anne Boleyn. The most significant figure in connection with this Nunnery is Dame Juliana Berners, the literary abbess, who, in the fourteenth century, wrote her famous " Boke of St. Albans," containing " Treatises Pertayning to Hawking, Hunting, Here and There Near London 179 and Fyshying with an angle." She was what might be called a " sporting Abbess." Her works are full of naive instruction and are en- tertaining reading. Among other precepts which she lays down, one is headed: " How gentylmen may be known from ungentylmen," — she was lucky to be able to express such de- fined ideas on the subject! On a certain hotel register we were amused to see among the names the signature of " James Simpson, Hell, New York." (Can't you see the man, sick of being asked to register every day, and seeing an opportunity for a little fun?) " Why," the lady clerk would say, politely, " I never heard of such a place! " " Eeally? Haven't you? " Mr. Simpson would reply, " It's a very well-known locality in New York! " etc. When we went to our rooms in the evening we rang for ice- water. The maid arrived; the Head of the House suggested "drinking water," thinking that ice might not be attain- able. The maid asked, " Hot? " We then boldly demanded, " Ice- water," and she smiled, as who should say, " Oh, those eccentric Amer- icans! " and withdrew. At dinner we had also asked for ice. I heard a woman at a table near remark in a stento- 180 The Spell of England rian voice, ' ' Those are Americans. ' ' The man said: " You think so? "to which she rejoined: " They must be. They want ice." One very enjoyable feature of life in Eng- land is reading the large amount of really good fiction that has been written in connection with every city. It is fascinating to keep such books on hand for rainy days, and for evenings when one is tired and does not wish to fare forth. In her delightful book, " Winchester Meads," Miss Emma Marshall describes Winchester Ca- thedral with much charm: " Winchester Ca- thedral awakes a thousand memories, and, as we stand in the stately church, we seem to be reading page after page of the history of a long past. The quaint chests containing the mixed bones of many an early sovereign of this realm are over our heads as we kneel in the beautiful choir. Surely in Winchester Cathedral the words come to us with more than ordinary sig- nificance — ' A thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday. ' . . . Some have left behind them in Winchester the good name which, is better than riches and honour, and some the thought only of evil deeds and sorrow caused by sin. The fierce Red King, whose bones, it is said, lie under the heavy stone monument in the choir, is one of the last. William of Wyke- nere ana 'mere Near Loudon 181 ham, and Henry of Blois, — yes, and the proud Cardinal Beaufort, whose life-like effigy lies in the chapel outside the chancel on the south side, are amongst the former, and, with Bishop Fox, whose chapel is one of exceeding beauty, must awaken in our hearts nothing but gratitude for the good which in their cases lives after them. ... It was one of the rules of Winchester Col- lege, in its early days, that all the boys should run up St. Catherine's Hill twice a day. . . . William of Wykeham thus provided for the healthy exercise which in our days the Wyke- hamists find in the pleasant meads lying be- tween the college and St. Cross, where cricket and football are played with equal vigour by the Winchester scholars." Lord Selbourne, alluding to Winchester, calls attention to " The huge catliedral sleeping In venerable gloom, The modest College tower And the bedesman's Norman home." While standing in the cathedral I once heard an American remark, " This place needs a whole lot done to it; I'd like to see a good row of real handsome chandeliers down the length of it; that would wake it up! " 182 The Spell of England Winchester was the ancient Camelot. Sir Thomas Mallory -tells how ' ' the city of Came- lot " was " in English, Winchester." In a talk with the dean some years ago, something was said which struck me as interesting. He told how in the ninth century they used to observe " mothering Sunday " once during Lent, when the whole diocese used to visit the cathedral, the mother church. But now, he said, he was trying to carry the mother church to the dio- cese. The view of the cathedral which I have chosen to show my readers was photographed especially to illustrate a certain lecture which the dean was giving at that time, his object being to interest people in the necessities for repair in the old fabric. It was obtained for me as a particular favour, the picture never having been sold. It was taken from a travel- ling staging high up among the vaults and ribs, which was erected for purposes of repairing the roof a short time before. Of course a pho- tograph at such an angle could never be taken again except under just the same circum- stances, and such a staging would probably not be erected again for a century. The dean said that some of the ribs were so loose that you could " have taken them down with your hands, but for the weight." He told me about the CHOIR OF WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL. Here and There Near London 183 organ whicli was there in the early middle ages, "which was blown by seventy men, and that the bellowing and puffing of the old men could be heard all over town! In speaking of the old chair in which Queen Mary sat, he said he had been obliged to fence it off, to keep it from the Americans, ' ' who always want to sit in it — I can't think why! " Daniel Defoe shows a more cultivated taste than some of his contemporaries when he criti- cizes the screen at Winchester: " This screen was designed by Inigo Jones, but, though ex- ceedingly beautiful, I think to join Roman with Gothic architecture is a solecism. ' ' Would that others had felt this way more generally in the eighteenth century ! Several scenes in Miss Marshall's " Win- chester Meads ' ' recall the city as it must have been in the days of Charles 11, when the good old Bishop Ken refused to receive Nell Gwyn in his palace, thus risking his favour with the Merry Monarch. At St. Cross, in Winchester, we chanced in upon a saint's day service, and it was refresh- ing to hear the service read again instead of intoned; for the first time in England we had the satisfaction of confessing ourselves miser- able sinners in an unaffected tone of voice. At 184 The Spell of England the Pilgrim's Gate, when they brought us our dole of bread and beer (you probably know that all who pass through are treated in this way), the old porter assured me that the horn cup from which I drank was the same used several times by the king. A few words more from Miss Marshall on the subject of St. Cross: " She smiled at the porter, who was standing at the hatchway with a horn of beer and hunch of white bread, ac- cording to time honoured custom, and about to present it to a pedestrian from Southamp- ton, who looked weary enough, and drank the beer eagerly. " ' Good e'en to you, madam,' said the por- ter, ' I saw you pass ten minutes ago, but you did not ask for the dole. ' " ' No, good Denis,' Mistress Lilbum said, calling the porter by his name, ' I pass in and out too often to ask for the dole! ' This was said in jest with a bright smile. . . . " Master Boyle duly drank his horn of ale, and complimented the porter on the excellence of the brew, but craved leave to dispense with the hunch of bread. ' He must be a dull man who is not moved to some emotion when for the first time he passes under this beautiful gateway,' Master Boyle said, as he turned to Here and There Near London 185 look at the Beaufort Tower. . . . ' It makes me long for quiet and seclusion, and that black gown with the cross shining on the breast of yonder venerable brother. ' ... So they en- tered the church. . . . He walked round the church examining the delicately carved arches, crossing and recrossing each other at every point, then the lofty chancel, and the curious bird-beak moulding in the north transept. . . . Outside the church, Mistress Lilburn showed him the curious triple arch, with its tooth orna- ment. ... As they passed out of the hall, a brother in a dark crimson gown bowed low to Mistress Lilburn. ' He is Brother Anthony,' she said, ' A brother of Noble Poverty, and thus distinguished from the rest.' " One of the best-known emblems of Winches- ter is the Trusty Servant, that odd little figure with the head of a faithful dog, the mouth closed with a padlock, the hands holding instru- ments of household usefulness, and the clothes those of a well-appointed flunkey. Speaking of trusty servants reminds me of a visit which we once made to an old manor house near Winchester, which we particularly wished to inspect on account of some interest- ing fireplaces. The visit was under the most adverse circumstances. We drove to the house. 186 The Spell of England and inquired if we might enter for purposes of viewing its charms. The butler replied loftily that her ladyship greatly objected to visitors, but that she was just going out to drive, and, if we would conceal ourselves among some trees until her carriage was quite out of sight, the confidential maid would take us in and show us everyt-hing._ Eelying, then, on this trusty serv- ant, we waited until the proper moment, and then, feeling like burglars, we stealthily ap- proached the entrance. A neat maid met us with a formal curtsey, and we were conducted through the house and grounds. The fireplaces were fully worth the adventure. As Stevenson says : " I never weary of great churches, it is my favourite kind of mountain scenery. ' ' Henry James, after mentioning that Salisbury is probably the best-known cathedral in the world, on account of its spire, adds: " It is so simply and obviously fair that when you have respectfully made a note of it, you have summed up the matter. " It is not piquant ; you have it at a glance. There is little mystery or accident to discover. Old Evelyn was politely enthusiastic upon viewing it: " The cathedral I take to be the completest piece of Gothic work in Europe, taken in all its uniformity. The pil- Here and There Near London 187 lars, reputed to be cast, are of stone manifestly cut out of the quarry; the most observable are those in the chapter house. There are some remarkable monuments, particularly the an- cient Bishops, founders of the church. Knights Templars, the cloysters of the palace and gar- den, and the great mural dial." Miss Marshall describes a royal visit to Sal- isbury: "As we neared Salisbury we heard the sweet chimes ringing from the belfry tower, which stood a little apart from the cathedral, on the western side . . . there was a great hubbub, and the train bands with staves were keeping back the people who pressed forward to see the king and the ladies of the queen's train. . . . The clustered pillars, the vaulted roof, the perfect proportions of that noble church, can only be believed when the eye hath duly measured them." Among the monuments in Salisbury Cathe- dral is one to Lord Hungerford, who was " hanged and degraded, and had a toad put into his coat of arms," according to an old writer. One can well see how much delicious old glass has been lost to us in England, when one reads a criticism like this by Daniel Defoe of the glass in Salisbury. He says : " The glass in the sev- 188 The Spell of England eral windows, being very old, has contracted- sucli a rust that it is scarcely to be distinguished from the stone walls, whereas " (listen to the fierce alternative!) " were the windows glazed with squares, and kept clean as might be done, they would be plainly visible at a distance." This is the criticism of a cultivated man of his times; surely this attitude accounts for much of the painful effects in windows, when they were deliberately " chirked up " to be gay and brilliant. The habit of finding little coincidences, and writing verses appropriate to the demands, is a specially British trait. It is cozily interest- ing to follow, for instance, this conscientious verse about Salisbury : " As many days as in one year there be So many windows in one church we see. As many marble pillars there appear As there are hours throughout the fleeting year. As many gates, as moons one year do view, Strange tale to teU, yet not more strange than true! " Dickens makes a singular and unaccountable little slip in " Martin Chuzzlewit," when he speaks of " the towers of Salisbury Cathe- dral." If there is a distinctive feature more than another about Salisbury, it is that it has a spire instead of towers. Dickens knew this Here and There Near London 189 perfectly well, too, and a few pages later he alludes quite naturally to the spire. The spire was built purposely to serve as a kind of beacon guide for the inhabitants of the entire flat dis- trict known as Salisbury Plain. The oiling of the weather-cock on this spire is quite an excitement. A ladder leads to within thirty feet of the top, and then the man who mounts it is obliged to crawl the rest of the way. A guide book of an elder day observes: " Many persons have voluntarily and daringly clambered to the top, even in a state of intoxi- cation. ' ' To have mounted to the weather-vane for any but strictly business reasons would really seem to indicate a state either of intoxi- cation or insanity. This dizzy height, as Dr. Holmes has whimsically remarked, is a point " which nothing terrestrial has ever looked down upon . . . except a bird, a bat, a sky- rocket, or a balloon." Some of the English preachers have such a painful sense of duty to realism that all possi- ble idealism, and almost all spirituality, are lost in their sermons. I remember hearing what was intended for an earnest appeal one Hospital Sunday. The clergyman gave electri- fying statements regarding the needs of the hospitals. I myself had been impressed with 190 The Spell of England the fearful inadequacy of appointments at one of the London hospitals, not the least objec- tionable feature being a deeply cut ornate cor- nice in the operating room — a haven for germs. This preacher had much to say about " diseases of the stomach," and kindred mat- ters equally poetic. He also described the trials of a death-bed where the usual disadvan- tages of dissolution were enhanced by the pres- ence of " creatures crawling about," as he ele- gantly expressed it, " whose names you would not like me to pronounce. ' ' I was relieved that he did draw the line at pronouncing them — I had been prepared for anything. I had hardly looked for such forbearance, judging by the tenor of his Other remarks. This bluntness is a national feature, I think. For instance, it is almost impossible to explain to English friends why in America it would be impossible to gain members for a society for crippled girls called the " Guild of the Brave Poor Things. ' ' Simply, no American girl could so announce herself. The words would go against her. And yet it is a flourishing Arts and Crafts movement in England. The use of words is very different in the two countries, and it is not easy to make it clear just what the difference is. It is very subtle, Here and There Near London 191 but very easily felt, although it cannot be de- scribed. For instance, take the advertisement of a book shop; you would know that it was in England and not in America, that a dealer announced that he had " moved to larger and more convenient premises (opposite Messrs. H.'s Carriage Works, five minutes from the railway station; cars stop at door), forming the largest Book Saloon in the Midlands. In- spection cordially invited." There is nothing really the matter with this statement — it is full of helpful facts; perhaps its very helpful- ness has something irritating about it. And then somehow the expression " Shirt builder to His Majesty " sounds as if armour had come in again for use in court circles! We found in one town a sign which adver- tised a " Temperance Laundry," and we are still lost in conjecture as to where the temper- ance is applied ! Among our most delightful memories is a visit at Ely, with the dean; where, in the old thirteenth century house, our windows looked out between ivy-covered buttresses, and where they apologize for their dining room, because it is only Elizabethan ! The laundry is a Nor- man crypt. As Henry James says: "After spending twenty-four hours in a house that is 192 The Spell of England six hundred years old, you seem yourself to have lived in it for six hundred years ! ' ' The patron saint of Ely is Etheldreda, the queen of King Egfrid, a lady so pious that she determined to live a virgin. Fortunately the king agreed to this eccentric choice of his spouse, and she founded an abbey, and became its abbess. Her whole history resembled that of a majority of the early saints. Her title is often bestowed as " queen, wife, virgin, and saint. ' ' Ely has been very fortunate in having a lit- erary man for its dean for many years, so that the cathedral handbook prepared by Dean Stubbs, now Bishop of Truro, is as interesting as a book of essays. The Isle of Ely has had Christian worship since the seventh century. Episodes of much significance have transpired within its terri- tory, and one of the most dramatic of these is that of King Knut rowing by, and hearing the monks chanting. The old ballad commemora- ting this event has been translated as follows: " Merrily sang the monks of Ely, Knut the king rowed by, ' Listen how the winds be brining From yon church a holy singing, Row, men, nearer by.' " STAIRCASE TO 0R(;AN EOKT, ELY CATHEDKAL. Here and There Near London 193 Life in the early days in the Fen Country has been described in a clear way in two works of fiction, Kingsley's " Hereward the Wake," and MacFarlane's " Camp of Eefuge." Both of these should be read at Ely. Froude, in " Thomas Carlyle's Life in London," speaks thus of Ely: " His first halt was at Ely. He arrived in the evening, and walked into the cathedral, which, though fresh from Bruges and Ghent, he called ' one of the most impressive buildings he had ever seen in his life.' It was empty apparently. No living thing was to be seen in the whole vast building but a solitary sparrow, when suddenly some invisible hand touched the organ, and the rolling sounds, soft, sweet and solemn, went pealing through the solitary aisles. He was greatly affected. He had come to look at the spot where Oliver had called down out of his reading desk a refrac- tory high church clergyman, and he had en- countered a scene which seemed a rebuke to his fierceness. ' ' Fuller tells us that the willow tree " delight- eth in moist places and is triumphant in the Isle of Ely." Baskets have always been a conspic- uous product of this town; even Martial al- ludes to " a basket rude from painted Britons come." So even in the woad period it is evi- 194 The Spell of England dent that the willows were understood and adapted to local needs. In the " Camp of Eefuge " MaqFarlane de- scribes Saxon Ely: " The abbey built at Ely in the tenth century . . . was a stately stone edifice, vast in its dimensions and richly orna- mented in details. Round-headed arches rested upon rows of massive columns ; the roof of the church and the roof of the great hall of the abbey were arched and towering, and high above all the tower and steeple shot into the air, to serve as a landmark throughout the flat fen coimtry, and a guide to such as might lose themselves among the meres and the laby- rinths of the willow forests. If the monks of Ely were lords of all the country and of all the people dwelling in it, those people and all hon- est wayfarers ever found the hospitable gates of the abbey open to receive them, and all com- ers were feasted according to their several de- grees by the Lord Abbot, the prior, the cellarer, the hospitaller, the pietancer, or some other officer of the house. Twenty knights, with their twenty squires to carry arms and shield, did service to the Lord Abbot as his military re- tainers, and in his great stables room was left for many more horses . . . compared with some of the fen monastic houses, Ely was dry. Here and There Near London 195 being on higher ground than many such estab- lishments." In Ely the monastic discipline is indicated in the Liber Eliensis: " There was one rule for all; the chief requirement was obedience, love of sacred worship, and a full resolve to maintain the honour of God's House," and " We believe that the Divine Presence exists everywhere, but above all when we attend Divine Service." Ovin's Cross, the curious monument in the south aisle of Ely, was used to tether horses to for years, and was secured for the cathedral only in the last century. Its inscription reads : " Grant Lord to Ovin thy light and rest. Amen." Oviu was probably the steward of St. Etheldreda. On the tomb of Alan de Walsingham, who built the octagon, is a Latin poem, which, trans- lated, reads: " These things ye may at Ely see, The lantern, chapel of St. Marie, A windmill mounted up on high, A vineyard yielding wine yearly. A simple folk whom bridges guard, Its name doth come, so old men say, From throngs of eels in water way; Of all the wealth in many lands, This wonder choir before all stands. Which Brother Alan raised on high — Let travelled men his fame deny. 196 The Spell of England A sacrist good and prior benign, A builder too of genius fine, The flower of craftsmen, Alan Prior, Here lies entombed before the choir; As sacrist twice ten years built he, Then Prior crowned all in twenty-three. A Sextry hall he made from the ground, And Mepal, Brame, chiu-ch manors found. And when one night the old tower fell This new tower built, yea, mark it well. So now to end his labours great God grant him seat in heaven's high gate." The Ely Imps, though not as clever gro- tesques as the Lincoln Imp, have been en- shrined in a merry verse as follows : " Ely imps you see Pick-a-back imps in glee With the wings of a bat And the grin of a cat Making mock at you and me. Sing nonny ho, nonny he, Oh, what fools poor mortals be! " Prior Crauden's Chapel was a functional lit- tle sanctuary, really used by the prior in his lifetime. " Hither did he resort by night and day for spiritual meditation, unless prevented by sickness," say the abbey records. In the aisle is another relic, a representation of the wolf holding the head of St. Edmund, DETAIL OF THE PRIOr's DOOR, ELY. Here and There Near London 197 in a stone carving which was once the side of the abbot's chair at Bury. Stories are told about the occupation of ca- thedrals by Cromwell and his troopers. Ed- ward Fitz Gerald mentions an occasion: " Oli- ver marching in as the bells were ringing to service; bundling out canons, prebendaries, choristers, with the flat of the sword, and then standing up to preach himself, in his armour! A grand picture. Afterwards they broke the painted windows, which I should count inju- dicious, but that I sometimes feel a desire that some boys would go and do likewise to the Pusey Votive windows, if you know that branch of art! " There is a letter from Cromwell, written at Ely in 1643, which shows how drastic were his methods when he was not pleased: " Mr. Hitch: Lest the soldiers should in any tumultuary or disorderly way attempt the Eef- ormation of the cathedral Church, I require you to forbear altogether your choir service, so unedifying and offensive " and more to the same effect, ending " Your loving friend 01. Crom." In Ely is the stately tomb to the ecclesias- tical author of the Prayer for All Sorts and Conditions of Men. One day, when the dean was conducting a party of Americans, he men- 198 The Spell of England tioned this fact. A bumptious young man who could teach the world replied: " I beg your pardon, but I happen to know that that was written by Sir Walter Besant ! ' ' I think one should stop a few hours at least in Eochester, either on the way to Canterbury, or as an excursion from London. Dickens' home, Gadshill, was near Rochester ; on market days he often walked to town. He so fre- quently crossed the old bridge that, when it was taken down, the contractors gave one of its balusters to Dickens as a souvenir; it was long used in the garden at Gadshill as a sun- dial pedestal. Eochester, according to Mr. Pickwick, pro- duced chiefly " soldiers, sailors, Jews, chalk, shrimps, officers, and dock-yard men." Eoches- ter Cathedral interested us, — it is not an im- portant building, but it has atmosphere. The verger who conducted us about, twenty years ago, had been a choir boy, and told us that he had often seen Dickens come into the crypt, and sit by the hour, apparently meditating, when he was writing " Edwin Drood." In that book he has given us a picture of the choir boys robing at Eochester; it is very graphic, if not as romantic as one sometimes likes to think. " The bells are going for daily service, and he Here and There Near London 199 needs attend it, one would say, from his haste to reach the open Cathedral door. The choir are getting on their sullied white robes, in a hurry, when he arrives among them, gets on his own robe, and falls into the procession filing into service. Then the sacristan locks the iron- barred gates that divide the sanctuary from the chancel, and all of this procession having scuttled into their places, hide their faces : and then the intoned words ' when the wicked man ' rise among the groins of the arches, and beams of the roof, awakening muttered thunder." Rochester Castle is a very pleasingly propor- tioned specimen of a square Norman keep. When I was there one could go high up among the ruins and prowl about — perhaps one can still. The castle well very nearly became the cause of a tragedy when the celebrated archi- tect, Welby Pugin, once stepped into it inad- vertently and was with difficulty rescued! From Eochester to Canterbury I once rode in the carriage with a sad-faced, shabby clerical person, whose wife sat opposite him. She was a terrible type. She removed her hat at once, displaying a smooth grey " slick " of hair done in a single unyielding knot. She wore boots with elastic sides, and a man's coat. Her belt rose in front and sagged behind, and she was 200 The Spell of England thin and angular. The picture was completed by a glance at the book which her tired husband was perusing. It was entitled " The Last Hope." CHAPTER IX THE GREAT UNIVEESITIES ^N comparing Oxford and Cambridge in that unnecessary neurotic spirit to which travellers seem to be impelled, Henry James says : " If Oxford were not the finest thing in England, Cambridge would certainly be." Suppose we vary the cus- tomary method by not comparing them at all? They are two university towns, with certain features in common and certain differences. Both are interesting in different and in similar ways. A follower of WUliam the Conqueror, Robert d'Oily, built Oxford Castle. He seems to have been a great robber, and he built first great for- tresses in which to guard his treasure, and then churches, where he might do penance and atone for his depredations. The Chronicle of Abing- don gives an estimate of this gentleman : ' ' Rich he was, and spared not rich or poor, to take their livelihood away, and to lay up treasures 201 202 The Spell of England for himself." The story of his conversion is amusing. ' ' He filched a certain field . . . and gave it over to the soldiers of the castle, . . . the brethren were greatly grieved, . . . and prayed that his robbery of the monastery might be avenged, or that he might be led to make atonement." Eobert dreamed, soon after that, that he was carried away by two monks into the very meadow which he had feloniously acquired, into the presence, strange to relate, of the Vir- gin Mary; and that " most nasty little boys " there were set to torment him. Whether it was owing to these discomforts, or to a real change of heart, Robert awoke with a start, and told his dream to his wife, who naturally advised him to give up this piece of land, and this he did. After that he could not do enough for the monks; he built them a bridge across the Isis, and restored all their churches. From the earliest days of the university it was destined to pass through numerous trials and vicissitudes. The period of Wyclif was un- settling to the atmosphere of the university. Wood writes : ' ' Wyclivism did domineer among us ; " and a heated controversy arose over what were termed his ' ' two-hundred-and-sixty-seven damned conclusions." Another enemy to the progress of the uni- The Great Universities 203 versity life was the plague, which, owing largely to overcrowded conditions, broke out each year during the time of the Renaissance and the Reformation, Later came Colet and Erasmus, in 1497, and the revival of learning seemed assured. There appeared to be less religious fermentation for a time, but this was not dead; it revived again and again. Building activities were greatest during the first half of the sixteenth century, from 1500 to 1530. Brasenose, Corpus Cristi, and much of Christ Church were erected, be- sides some parts of Oriel College. In the reign of Edward VI a strongly Protestant spirit pre- vailed, and this was almost as destructive of tradition as were the inroads of the Puritans at a later epoch. Everything that could be sus- pected of suggesting the papacy was ruthlessly destroyed; piles of valuable manuscripts were burned just because they had red initials. Whole libraries were sold for a shilling a cart- load, and other works of plunder were perpe- trated under the name of religion. The most ghastly moment in the history of Oxford was the burning of Ridley and Latimer. There is a little cross in the pavement on Broad Street where stood the stake and where, on the sixth of October, 1555, ' ' they were brought to a 204 The Spell of England place over against Balliol College," and there met their tragic fate. Under James I there was a certain divine, named Haydock, who had a habit of preaching in his sleep. This gentleman was not content to regard this peculiarity as an accidental night- mare, but he would repeat the sermons by day, claiming that they had been sent him during the night by way of a revelation. A flowery sermon is reported by Richard Taverner, in which he said, " I have brought you some fine biscuits baked in the oven of charity, carefully con- served for the chickens of the church, for the sparrows of the spirit, and the sweet swallows of salvation! " This was in the days when Euphues was the standard of English composi- tion! In the Georgian period appeared a book en- titled " Terras Filius " which, under the form of advice to students, exploited their faults with unamiable zeal. The author claimed that on their arrival in Oxford youths were received " among a parcel of honest, merry fellows who think themselves obliged, in honour and com- mon civility, to make you damnably drunk, and carry you, as they call it, a corpse, to bed." Possibly this may have been typical of the re- ception of freshmen, for about that time the The Great Universities 205 accounts of Gilbert White, the naturalist, who was then proctor, shows that he invested in " mountain wine, very old and good," with an occasional " bowl of rum punch from Hors- man's." To balance these orgies, simple gas- tronomic treats seem to have been composed of eggs and oranges ! Even these items may have been incipient egg-nogs, of some local brew. At all times in the history of the university fines were imposed upon the students for vari- ous offences. There is a record that one youth, in a fit of melancholy, attempted suicide, and cut his throat badly ; he was promptly fined five shillings, and the master sent him word that if he did it again he would have to pay ten shill- ings! Andrew Lang has stated what he believes to be the main characteristic of Oxford. " Con- servative as Oxford is, the home of impossible causes, she has always given asylum to new doc- trines, to all the thoughts which comfortable people call ' dangerous. ' We have seen her agi- tated by LoUardism, which never quite died, perhaps, till its eager protest against the sacer- dotal idea was fused into the fire of the Eefor- mation. Oxford was literally devastated by that movement, and by the Catholic reaction, and then was disturbed for a century and a 206 The Spell of England half by the war of Puritanism, and of Tory Anglicanism. The latter had scarcely time to win the victory, and to fall into a doze by her pipe and port, before Evangelical religion came to vex all that was moderate, mature, and fond of repose. The revolutionary enthusiasm of Shelley's time was comparatively feeble, be- cause it had no connection with religion, or at least no connection with the religion to which our countrymen were accustomed. Between the era of the Revolution and our own day, two religious tempests and one secular storm of thought have swept over Oxford." And certainly these questions will always continue to exercise the thinkers of the university, for religious questions are the most vital in her history and development. Edward Fitz Gerald speaks of a certain war cry of " those opposed to the Oxford movement, — ' The Bible, the whole Bible, and nothing but the Bible! ' " It seems strange to Americans to think of college men being, as it were, under lock and key, — obliged to be in their rooms at a certain hour at night, and in fact treated in many ways as school boys. It is reported that they are not allowed to smoke after ten, a fine being attached to the breaking of this rule! But when one The Great Universities 2C7 looks back throughi the Hstory of the Univer- sity, in the middle ages, and realizes that this is an institution "^phich began during the feudal system, and how slowly things always change in England, it is not to be as much remarked upon. The university grew up almost accidentally; that is, it had no founder who said, ' ' Go to, let us establish a college. ' ' Teachers and scholars originally met together for educational pur- poses ; Oxford began to be the centre of these associations, and, as the informal schools grew in numbers, they received recognition from the state and from the church. Halls were a natural outgrowth of the demands of the situation ; the ever increasing bands of students must be fed and housed, and by the thirteenth century there were three hundred halls of learning in Oxford, with something near a hundred students in each. Various colleges stood for various spe- cialties: Durham College educated monks for the Durham establishment; St. John's was re- sorted to by Cistercians ; while the Welsh stu- dents went usually to Jesus College. Students living outside the regular precincts were called Martinets, because they were sup- posed to be as free and wild as the birds ! Some of the students were very poor, and could not 208 The Spell of England pay for their accommodation, and, from being first pensioners, they were finally received into some halls which were rented for very slight sums, but were subject to several restrictions. The life was a good deal like that in a monas- tery. Scripture readings accompanied dinner in the refectory; no fires or lights were per- mitted in the rooms, and " light or idle talk " was prohibited even in recreation hours. They indulged apparently in only one pastime, and that was walking or running in the evenings, after study hours, in order to warm themselves before going to bed. At Brasenose College the students were obliged to repeat the Pater Noster five times every day, to symbolize the five wounds of Christ. In 1355 occurred a fierce brawl on St. Scholas- tica's day, which assumed such proportions of a " town and gown " fight, that the Pope had to interfere by placing the city under a ban until the relations should become more friendly. This disturbance began with a question of some wine, which a student found fault with. The landlord " answered surlily," according to ac- counts. The student became angry, and broke the flask of wine on the landlord's head. This was the signal for a general rising ; it was noth- ing but the match put to the trail of explosive The Great Universities 209 that had long been lying ready for combustion. The town, together with the rustics from the surburbs, arose against the students, and cowls and gowns were attacked fiercely, and no doubt responded with equal zeal. The troops were ordered out, but failed to queU the trouble, and for four years these riots broke out from time to time, and became a new feature in university life! Among pleasant recollections of Oxford is a luncheon with one of the professors, in his own apartments in New College. The room itself was inspiring, with its muUioned windows, and solid oak furnishings, but I was especially struck with the interesting old silver, which seemed to date from every period, and which appeared, course after course, with profusion, in the form of dishes, salt cellars, and orna- mental pieces of table silver, as well as the more practical forks and spoons. When I re- marked upon the wealth of table silver, so com- plete for an institution of learning, my host told me that it was the custom, and always had been, for each scholar in Oxford to leave behind him as a present, at his graduation, a bit of silver. Thus, according to the purse of the donor, every piece of silver in the collection represents some student — the name and date 210 The Spell of England are marked on each. This seems to me to be a particularly pleasant way to remember the alumni of an institution, and a means of keeping them constantly before their suc- cessors. In Oxford one rambles from quadrangle to garden, seeing the beautiful buildings, and for- tunately one is not obliged to decide as to their merits ; each has individuality and a history of its own. All around the quadrangle at Magdalen, which is filled with that wonderful grass so famous for its perfection, run the cloisters. This lawn, " delicious to one's sentient boot sole," as Henry James says, can never be ap- preciated unless it is seen. Between and above each arch is a curious grotesque. Sometimes this figure looks like a prehistoric bird pluming itself; sometimes it is a stunted stone couple, dancing ; and, again, twisted beasts, apparently in great discomfort. These are emblematic of the various virtues and vices, but it would take a long time to pick them out. One, which has usually been called the " backbiter," represents a benign, patient creature, on the order of a elose-shaven bear, on whose back a smaller beast has settled firmly. It seems a rather heavy exploitation of wit to The Great Universities 211 place a nose made of brass over the door of Brasenose College! In Exeter quadrangle there is a chestnut tree which has always gone by the name of " Heber's Tree," because it is just under the window of Heber's room at Brasenose. There is another tree, on which, when the figs were ripe, one Dr. Kennicott, wishing to reserve it for personal delectation, stuck a label, inscribed " Dr. Kennicott 's Fig Tree." An undergradu- ate removed this sign, and substituted one read- ing " A fig for Dr. Kennicott ! ' ' Keble College is a brick and tile abomination. In the many museums in Oxford there are fascinating objects of interest. One that ap- pealed to me very much was an old picture of Drake with a pistol. The guide used to claim that this was the very pistol with which Drake " shot the gtilf ! " (This was the usual term when any one went on the other side of the known world.) I was also much edified by see- ing the original drawings of Sir Christopher Wren for St. Paul's Cathedral. I wondered why the result was not more full of beauty, al- though it has majesty. There is also the skull of a Greek girl with a braid of well preserved hair. She was found buried with a copy of Homer under her head. 212 The Spell of En gland It is an amusing instance of the gradual cor- ruption of names when one realizes that the little carving over the door in St. Catherine's Hall represented the Salutation of the Virgin, and that the original name, " Piges washael," has come down to our days as the " Pig and Whistle!" There is a theory that the walls around the colleges are very secure, and that, when the gates are closed, no one can escape. It would be difficult to plan a more ingenious device to tempt youths to stray than to proclaim such a condition. Naturally the chief object of a num- ber of youths is to break bounds — to get out at night, simply because it is assumed that they cannot do it. It has been the stimulating cus- tom of the authorities to mitigate punishment to such offenders on condition that they would teU or demonstrate their method of escape, so that new schemes of guarding exits may be devised to prevent future lapses. A story is told of one young man who could not make up his mind to tell exactly how he had escaped, because he had been assisted by some of his companions, and he was unwilling to give his friends away. Therefore, as a compromise, he asked the college board to consult the twenty- ninth verse of the eighteenth psalm. The The Great Universities 213 tableau is pleasing — these learned and sedate men opening the Bible, and gravely looking up a text, only to be confronted by the words : * ' By the help of my God I have leaped over the wall! " In Frewin Hall King Edward VII was housed during his Oxford career. Although he was in charge of a bishop and a judge, he once escaped, and for a day or two the Prince of Wales was actually mislaid in his mother's kingdom ! Frewin Hall is a wonderful old house. It is now the residence of Professor C. W. C. Oman, the historian. Erasmus stayed in this house while he was in Oxford. It is not necessary to dilate upon its age after this statement. Some one asked me where Frewin Hall was? It is not so easy to say. It is exactly in the centre of a busy section of the city, and yet it is remote — standing in a charming garden, opening on a lawn which was a bowling green in the days of Charles I. Go down the crowded shopping street and, between two conamercial buildings, you wiU see a tiny alley-way. It would never occur to you to penetrate to the end of this passage in quest of beauty; but, when you get there, you are more than repaid, for here stands a stately entrance gate, bearing the date 1662, 214 The Spell of England — you enter, and you are in an old-world cloister, partly ruined. Beyond this lie the gardens of the house, and no more ideal situa- tion could be conceived. The house has an Elizabethan dining-room, exquisitely panelled, and all the spacious apart- ments lead off in a wilderness of charm. Last summer the family was greatly interested over the discovery of a Norman capital in the cellar of Frewin Hall, and after luncheon we all took tapers and went down to explore the excava- tions which were then in progress, for the entire cellar under part of the house had been filled in with earth for some centuries; it felt like making a visit to the catacombs ! A hiding hole had been unearthed, among other attrac- tions. The house also maintains a ghost in regular standing; it comes down the stairs at suitable intervals, and raps at a certain door. This would appear to be the extent of its indiscretions. Boat-racing at Oxford differs from other col- leges in general principle: the race is not simply to the swift, for the prize is to the "bump." The river being so narrow in places, and it being impossible therefore for several boats to race abreast, the inspiration came to some brilliant mind to adapt their standard to The Great Universities 215 their limitations, and the " bumping race " grew up because it was the best way to harmon- ize the sport with its environment. It is the effort of each boat-load, not to reach the goal first, as in ordinary racing, but to bump the stern of the boat just ahead of it, and, of course, incidentally, to prevent the boat behind from doing the same thing to itself. When a boat bumps another it is promoted — it moves up one, and the bumped boat takes position in the rear. The boats do not start abreast, but one ahead of the other, according to the record won for each by its bumping capacity. In such a race much depends upon the coxswain, who is the only one in the boat who can see the boat ahead, for which they are taking aim. The crew, seeing plainly the boat just behind, which is trying to bump them, are always instinctively trying to escape rather than to attack. It was deemed necessary to have each boat accompanied by interested parties who could see both ways, and thus advise both crew and coxswain. So each boat has three runners who accompany the race along the track by the river side, and these persons each carry, for signal- ling purposes, a bell, a policeman's rattle and a pistol. One can imagine the pandemonium when each boat is being signalled by these in- 216 The Spell of England sistent sounds, to which involuntary shouts and cheers form a running accompaniment. In short, the race is both on land and sea — three on foot to every eight in a boat! Turning now to Cambridge, it is interesting to learn that it has a legendary origin, although it is hardly possible at this day to pronounce upon the authenticity of the tale. It is said that a Spanish prince, Cantaber, founded the uni- versity " in the four-hundred and twenty-sixth year from the creation of the world " (which in itself is a difficult date to reckon!) and that then, drawn by " the pleasantness of the place," scholars from Athens came and set- tled as its first professors, to be succeeded by one Kenet, appointed by King Arthur, and later, by Bede and Alcuin. These last can be attested — the rest must be taken on faith or discarded ! Alcuin, writing to the students from the court of Charlemagne, says: " Forasmuch as Ignorance is the mother of error, I earnestly entreat that youths among you be used to be present at the praises of the Supreme King, not to unearth foxes, not to hunt hares; — let them now learn the Holy Scriptures," and more good advice to similar effect. The Great Universities 217 Matthew Paris describes Cambridge in his day as " neither accessible for man or beast, affording only deep mud, with sedge and reeds, and possessed of birds, yea, much more by devils, as appeareth in the life of St. Guthlac, who, finding it a place of horror and great soli- tude, began to inhabit there." Probably the " birds " and " devils " can still be detected in Cambridge, and no doubt saints also " in- habit there," if not for the same reason! Charles Kingsley testifies also to this early swampy condition of Cambridge. " The fens in the seventh century were ... a labyrinth of black, wandering streams, broad lagoons, morasses submerged every spring-tide, vast beds of reeds and sedge and fern, vast copses of willow and alder, and grey poplar, rooted in the floating peat. . . . Trees torn down by flood and storm floated and lodged in rafts, damming the waters back on the land. . . . Nature left to herself ran into wild riot and chaos more and more, till the whole fen became one " dis- mal swamp " in which at the time of the Nor- man Conquest the " last of the English . . . took refuge from their tyrants . . . and lived a free and joyous life awhile." Fuller tells us, too, that at this time " King William the Conqueror, going to subdue the 218 The Spell of England monks of Ely that resisted him, made Cam- bridgeshire the seat of war." Not that any actual battles seem to have been fought at Cambridge — it was used more as a base of supplies. The first church recorded in Cambridge is the old St. Giles; the story is that the wife of the Baron Picot lay at the point of death at Cambridge, and she vowed that, if she might recover, she would build a church in honour of St. Griles. " Whereupon," continues the chron- icler, " she recovered in three days." Not to be outdone in promptness, the baroness imme- diately erected a church with other buildings in keeping, and six Augustine canons were started at once upon a career in the vicinity. The next church was the wonderful little Church of the Holy Sepulchre, of the Knights Templars. Two persons are reported to have started this institution, but both are somewhat mythical. One is described as Peveril, and as being a young crusader; the other is called Ealph with a Beard, and is credited with having received " a grant of land to build a minster in honour of God and the Holy Sepulchre," about 1130. Other authorities state that the church dates from 1101. Its internal dimen- sions are only fourteen feet by nineteen. It is PH mLhI^^kP^^ %=v ".'>^w!^:'> pft aJ?H|||§HK r^^TT^Fiaa u^pL'^^r • ''St^i^miJ^ 'V, ':-v^ ',-.-^-/'^, w I''" ■^■^*^;' " *^I 4?^ ■■ m ^R^te ^jP n^^ Mo^^ p' ^^^ ■|R;.# • ^ P^^f!u:'€-fc y> Mi>M ■ 'A'fip^ -^ Ih '^' ^^D Liifl P#?i;:; : iSlP t^ m- ,-|Ef«.-.-K-<.: ^g| w ^ The Great Universities 219 more ornate than the Temple Church in Lon- don, and there are many evidences that it was earlier in construction. The actual colleges were founded in Cam- bridge by degrees. The first impulse to their existence was the tendency to proselyte among the monastic institutions where the students at first began to gather. Peterhouse, the earliest, was founded by the Bishop of Ely in 1281. In the fourteenth century Clare and Pembroke and some other institutions followed, and then came King's, which had a quaint set of rules and regulations of great interest. No scholar could be under fourteen years of age, and must be, at his entrance into the college, of " good and reputable conversation. ' ' He was provided with lodging and clothes, as well as his food, at the eminently reasonable figure of fourteen pence a week. The chief requirement was a knowledge of Latin. Prohibitions were numer- ous. He must not frequent taverns, nor intro- duce dogs within the college precincts, nor was he permitted to wear pointed shoes, to carry short swords, bows, or flutes, or to own cata- pults. Quite an orderly young person must have resulted if all these limitations were ob- served ! King's College was probably built by a great 220 The Spell of England admirer of Alan de Walsingham, for, under the patronage of Henry VI, it was erected almost exactly like the lady chapel at Ely, the work of Walsingham. There is no church or chapel of its size more absolutely perfect than King's College Chapel in all sesthetic essentials. It is remarkable that the iconoclasts allowed the windows at King's to escape. Their prow- ess was recorded with pride by William Dows- ing, who writes : " we pulled down two mighty angels with wings, and divers other angels; . . . and Peter with his keys . . . and about one hundred cherubims," adding, " and at Queen's we beat down a hundred and ten super- stitious pictures! " Queen's College was built soon after King's, the Queen of Henry VI, Margaret of Anjou, foimding it in 1447. Here is pointed out the tower of Erasmus, where he worked for many years. He found the atmos- phere singularly sympathetic, in which we should heartily follow the tastes of Erasmus, I am sure. The little quadrangle of Queen's is one of the most fascinating if not impressive spots in the entire university. In 1680 this tower of Erasmus was described by Andrew Paschal, " the stairs which rise up to his study at Queen's College, in Cambridge, do bring into two of the fairest chambers in the The Great Universities 221 ancient building ... to one of them is a square turret adjoining, in the upper part of which is the study of Erasmus . . . that room which for the height and neatness of it and prospect, might easily take his phancy." Erasmus him- self wrote to one of his friends : ' ' Here I live like a cockle shut up in his shell, stowing my- self away in college, and perfectly mum over my books. ... I cannot go out of doors be- cause of the plague. ... I am beset with thieves, and the wine is no better than vinegar. . . . I do not like the ale of this place at all . . . if you could manage to send me a cask of Greek wine, the very best that can be bought, you would be doing your friend a great kindness, but mind it is not too sweet. ... I am sending you back your cask, which I have kept by me, that I might enjoy at least the perfume of Greek wine! . . . My expenses here are enor- mous; the profits not a brass farthing." Trinity was founded in 1350, and is usually alluded to as " the hall." The Lady Margaret foundations were Christ's College and St. John's. She was the mother of Henry VII. Her character may be best understood by no- ting extracts from her funeral sermon, which was preached by Bishop Fisher. He speaks of her as "of marvellous gentleness " and says 222 The Spell of England that ' ' all England for her death hath cause for weeping; the poor creatures who were wont to receive her alms . . . the students of both uni- versities, to whom she was as a mother: all the learned men of England ... all good re- ligious men and women ... all good priests and clerks, to whom she was a true defendress ; all noblemen and women, to whom she was a mirror and example of honour; all the com- mon people," etc. Truly, she must have been a woman in advance of her times. Dr. Caius, a brilliant but eccentric man, foimded Caius College in 1557. He divided his time between superintending the building and fighting on the subject of " vestments, albs, crosses, tapers, and all massing abominations." The Gate of Honour was not built until after his death, in 1575. Of the great men of the Reformation there is an old saying: " Cambridge bred them and Oxford burned them." This is relatively true, in the extravagant way that such axioms are usually true. Puritan spirit flourished more in East Anglia than farther west. Sidney Sussex College, which was founded in 1589, has a delightful garden, which has been charmingly described : ' ' Here is a good garden, an admirable bowling green, a beautiful sum- The Great Universities 223 mer house, at the back of which is a walk agree- ably winding, with a variety of trees and shrubs intertwining, and forming the whole length of a fine canopy over head, with nothing but sing- ing and fragrance and seclusion, a delightful summer retreat, the sweetest lovers ' and poets ' walk, perhaps, in the university." And that reminds me — I have not said a word yet about the ' ' backs ! ' ' Those famous ' ' backs ' ' lead- ing from behind the colleges to the river, which produce usually the first, last, and sometimes the only impression of casual visitors ! While we were passing the side door of a college we saw the Sunday ice going in. On a small luggage truck lay a thin, bluish slab, cov- ered with burlap. It was almost in the propor- tion of a marble table-top, so meagre was it. This was pushed by two men with tender care, and was aided up the steps with as much cere- mony and respect as if they had been playing pall-bearers to its coflBn. Once in going from Ely to Cambridge, the journey occupying twenty minutes, all our lug- gage was mislaid, and only recovered through some mysterious agency, late at night, having been put on a ten o'clock morning train in our presence. I fancy it had gone on to London and back again. I have known this to happen; if 224 The Spell of England the train is a trifle delayed, they do not take the extra time to unload luggage, but avail them- selves of this convenient arrangement to add to the pleasures of travel in a land without baggage checks. ST. BOTOLPH S, BOSTON. CHAPTER X DAYS IN THE NORTH JOSTON is an old town full of fascina- tion, and St. Botolph's tower, the " Boston Stump," is all that could be desired. The founding of Boston was on this wise. In a certain noble Saxon family there were two sons, Botolf and Adolf, mean- ing " Ruling Wolf " and " Noble Wolf." They became Christians in the seventh century. Adolf became an abbot in Utrecht, where both boys had been sent to study, but Botolf re- turned to East Anglia, and requested the king to grant him some tract of land where he might start Christian worship and try to influence others to join him. The site which now is Bos- ton was given to him. Here, in a little ' ' wattle and daub " church, he started a brotherhood, a genuine Simple Life cult ; there were no sur- rounding towns where anything could be bought, so that everything that they used had to be produced by the brethren themselves. They had to gather their wood, raise all their 225 226 The Spell of England own food, animal and vegetable, and, in addi- tion to managing every department of daily life, these enthusiasts held seven services a day. They were burned out by the Danes in 870, but they escaped to Thorney and to Ely, and the Christian work was not again carried out consistently in Boston until after the Norman Conquest, when a stone church was built, from which, in time, the parish of St. Botolph was evolved. In a description of Boston by Mr. J. Martin, in his story ' ' May Fair, ' ' he speaks of some in- dividual features about the mediaeval town. " The now spacious market place," he says, " was then covered with narrow streets with low houses ... at the corner of every street stood a wooden crucifix or saint, to call forth the devotional feelings of the passers-by, which displayed themselves by a momentary genu- flexion. . . . On particular occasions, such as feasts or fasts, every poor person felt it a point of conscience to present his favourite saint or patron with the end of a candle, so that the rudely carved representative of the holy man might at those times be seen with twenty or thirty candles burning before it at noonday." He tells of a " big stone figure of St. Botolf," "which stood over the guard house door. Days in the North 227 Another writer describes the small projecting porches which protruded from the shops : ' ' the pent-houses which shaded the low windows fre- quently compelled the wayfarer who boasted a stature above four feet to quit the narrow foot-path, and take his chances with the ducks in the puddle." Such was the character of Boston in the middle ages. Boston has always had an annual celebration of great importance, known as May Fair ; this is first mentioned by an early poet in 1270, who relates that he went to ' ' the Fair at Botolf ston in Lincolnshire." In 1287 an exciting event occurred in connection with the Fair. A mock tournament between monks and canons was ad- vertised, and many persons in religious habits came from some distance to compete. They, however, proved to be armed men in disguise, and in the evening they looted and burned the stalls, so that, according to the old accoimt, ' ' streams of gold, silver, and other metal, mol- ten ran into the sea." The ringleader was caught and hanged, but the others all got away by means of ships which stole up the harbour to receive them after dark. In Boston we made friends with a very at- tractive character in the shape of Miss Ellen King, of the Church Yard. This sounds as if j28 The Spell of England — "^ she were buried, I kaow, but no: her little establishment abuts on the grave-yard, just across from the tower, but she is a very much alive purveyor of photographs. Such general interest in my native town I have seldom seen, out of it. Her first remark to us was : ' ' From Boston in America? " Upon our admitting this, she added, with a jovial smile, " We al- ways know ! ' ' She seemed to be familiar with every one we knew at home, and she had a col- lection of all their visiting cards in an album, to which perforce we contributed. It is an ex- cellent method of insuring mutual interest; Miss Ellen King never forgets any one from Boston, Mass., and no one from Boston, Mass., who has had the good fortune to meet Miss Ellen King will ever forget her ! She pointed out the statue of old St. Botolph who stands rather furtively in a quiet nook high up on his tower. Some workmen who were busy on the restorations left their work to come and see him; one of them admitted that, al- though he had lived all his life in Boston, he had never before seen the statue of St. Botolph ! We were more than amused, on going farther into the town of Boston, to find a certain dis- trict deliberately denominated " South End," a sign being put up to that effect ! Days in the North 229 At the time of the destruction of images, Boston experienced some inconvenience from the iconoclasm of the period. It was the habit of the mayor to go to church each Sunday with his maces carried before him. One day, when he was starting for church, it was discovered that some zealous reformer had gotten hold of these maces, and cut the crosses off the top. He had them carried to church just the same, and they aroused much sympathy and indigna- tion. This wanton mutilation was pronounced " very evil done, and a dangerous matter, a felony and treason, because it was a defacing of the imperial Crown." This argument, how- ever, as might be anticipated, had little weight with those who were bent upon not only re- moving the cross from the crown, but aimed at taking off the king's crown, head and all! Indeed, there were some suspicions that John Cotton, who was at that time vicar, might have winked at the offence, being of such strong Puritanical feelings himself. Another outrage was committed, and this more generally to be deplored; the statue of St. Botolph, on the tower, represented the saint as a mitred abbot, holding the model of the church in his hands. One of the churchwardens, being a Puritan in embryo, deliberately broke 230 The Spell of England this little model, because he thought the figure was a statue of the pope ! The East Anglian wave of superstition re- garding witchcraft struck Boston, and " witch finders " were maintained at a regular salary. This was a wise arrangement, to pay " witch finders " by the day rather than by the job, so to speak; in another town, where the searcher was paid according to the number of witches discovered, twenty-seven women out of thirty were condemned, and in a single day fourteen witches and one wizard were put to death ! The name of greatest interest to Americans in Boston history is that of John Cotton. He was only twenty-six when he was made vicar of St. Botolph, in 1612. Dr. Cotton Mather tells an apocryphal story about his election, saying that John Cotton was really elected by a mis- take. The Mayor of Boston had the casting vote; and this elected Cotton. But the mayor, who certainly could not have been much of a student of Parliamentary procedure, had in- tended to vote against him, and asked for a second ballot. On the second ballot this com- petent official repeated his error, and again elected John Cotton ; but this time a third ballot, was ruled out of order, and Cotton re- mained properly elected. Days in the North 231 John Cotton soon came into unfavourable notice at the Court of Lincoln owing to his non-conformity with the Anglican requirements of the church as it was then interpreted. He was helped over many hard situations, however, by his pleader, Mr. Leverett, ' ' a plain man, yet piously subtle." Indeed, a great reformation was wrought by John Cotton and many of the old Boston churchmen became Puritans under his teachings. Things became too troublous at last, however, and in 1633 John Cotton sailed for America, having resigned his work, to which he had devoted twenty-one years of his best efforts. His second wife accompanied him, and his son was born on the ocean. With almost too realistic a sense of appropriateness the child was named Seaborn. John Cotton preached in Boston, Massa- chusetts, for nearly twenty years. His death occurred in 1652, and was the result of a severe cold taken in crossing the ferry to preach in Cambridge. As old Fuller says : ' ' Lincoln meets the traveller thereunto twenty miles off, so that their eyes are there many hours before their feet." This is really well expressed. Although the railway did not run in Fuller's day, the 232 The Spell of England conditions are quite the same. The approach to Lincoln by train is especially favourable, and I hope that every visitor may have the same luck that I did, in seeing the great crown on the hill silhouetted against a sunset which seemed to have been arranged on purpose for it! As we approached, the sunset deepened into twilight — ' ' this interminable English twilight," as Henry James says, " which I am never weary of admiring, watch in hand! " Lincoln is a very grand cathedral, but it has not quite the intimate charm and colour of Ely, to my mind. Evelyn visited Lincoln, and has said quite a good deal about it. " Lincoln is an old con- fused town, very long, uneven, steep, and ragged, formerly full of good houses, especially churches and abbeys. The minster is almost comparable with York itself, abounding with marble pillars and having a fair front. . . . The soldiers had lately knocked off most of the brasses from the grave stones, so few inscrip- tions were left. They told us that these men went in with axes and hammers, and shut them- selves in, till they had rent and torn off some barge loads of metal, not sparing even the monuments of the dead, such hellish avarice possessed them; " this is new interpretation of THE APPROACH TO LINCOLN. Days in the North 233 the work of iconoclasts — perhaps they often benefited by their destructive work, for the more marketable products were carted away ! This is the legend of the Lincoln Imp, who is now familiar to every child, through his in- congruous position in the Angel Choir ! ' ' The wind and the devil, being on a friendly tour, arrived at Lincoln Minster, where the latter addressed his friend thus: ' Just wait outside here while I go in and have a chat with my friends the canons ! ' " And he has been wait- ing even since. The devil was turned to stone when he arrived in the sacred building, and re- mains, grinning on a corbel, to amuse those who go into the choir. The names of some of the smaller churches and localities in Lincoln are suggestive and at- tractive. St. Mary le Wigf ord appeals to me ; the naive inscription on its tower has been translated: " Eartig had me built and endowed to the praise of God and St. Mary." I am also impressed with the name " St. Peter at Gowts," which means St. Peter's by the chan- nel, and as to the Glory Hole, which used to be called the Murder Hole, it is thrilling! The most attractive bit of domestic architec- ture in Lincoln is the Jew's House, which dates from Norman times. It is one of the oldest 234 The Spell of England houses in England that is still inhabited. Cer- tain features are indeed very like Saxon work. This is where tradition has it that Little St. Hugh, whose tomb is in the cathedral, was cru- cified by the Jews. Chaucer has told a similar story, through the Prioress in the Canterbury Tales, and alludes to Little St. Hugh in connec- tion with this subject: " Or young Hugh of Lincoln, slain also With cursed Jews, as it is notable. For it 'nis but a little while ago, Pray eke for us, we sinful folk unstable." The castle of Lincoln was converted by Will- iam the Conqueror from an English to a Nor- man stronghold. Twice its constables were women; the first was Lucy Taillebois, and the second her daughter, also named Lucy, for whom the great round tower was named the Lucy Tower. The " Lincoln Motor Bus and Parcel Deliv- ery Company Limited " does a thriving trade here, and they advertise " Pleasure cars let out," which expression sounds as if rows of motors were standing in line waiting to spring forward and serve the traveller and to make pleasant excursions under his direction! As to York, it is cold perfection. It is an architectural alp, but I must admit that geomet- Days in the North 235 rical Grothic is not my favourite. York, how- ever, besides the conventional beauties of its formal cathedral, has much atmosphere, as a city, and its history is specially remarkable in one particular. It may be called the home of the miracle play in England. At first it seems as if the city of York were hopelessly modern, with its vast railway sys- tems and fine hotels; but, if one penetrates into such regions as Mucky Peg Lane, one real- izes that much of the quaint mediaeval city still survives. In 1430 Pope Pius II, before his consecration, passed through York, and alludes to the cathe- dral as " worthy to be hoted throughout the world for its size and architecture, with a very light chapel whose glass walls rise between very slender clustered columns." The legend con- cerning the windows known as the Five Sisters, is, that five actual young spinsters designed this window for York Minster. The designs are said to be based upon motifs for embroidery. These windows are of grisaille, and are dreams of silvery light. Legendary records give York a central im- portance from earliest times. It is claimed that this city was extant when David was king in Israel, that the Eoman emperor Agricola 236 The Spell of England died there, and that later King Arthur selected it as the seat of his Christmas festivities, — it was then called Eboracum. After that it had associations with every monarch from William the Conqueror until modern times. Many prominent men have been born in York, too, — Alcuin, the scholar of Charlemagne's day ; Guy Fawkes ; William Etty, the painter ; Flaxman, the sculptor; and, as Mrs. Van Eensselaer says, ' ' a host of minor sapient Dry- as-Dusts." Many of the northern cathedrals, Lincoln, York, and Durham, for example, have three square towers, not with spires as at Lichfield. The effect is more sturdy and grand, and more in harmony with the colder regions where they stand. Durham has caused me more genuine joy than any other cathedral, so far as its form and architectural beauty are concerned. Of course associations have much to do with one's enjoy- ment in many churches, but Durham, if it had no history, and if I had never heard of it before, would have set me all astir with enthusiasm at the first glance. This churchly atmosphere is delightfully indicated by Henry James, who speaks of ' ' that sweet, cool mustiness in the air which seems to haunt these places, like the very Days in the North 237 climate of Episcopacy! " I shall never forget my first sight of those massive piers, seen by the declining light of a rainy evening. Durham seems to embody the dignity and eternal quali- ties of religion all through the building, just as Salisbury seems to scintillate with cheerful light. We were congratulating the verger, as it were, upon the majesty of the cathedral. (Vergers always feel that they are entirely responsible for their churches, and it pleases them to have it recognized!) At that moment a boys' school, which had been visiting the tower, began to desfeend the stairs with whoops and shrieks on account of the darkness. " There's majesty for you! " exclaimed the verger, starting off importantly on a crusade against them. Durham only improves on closer acquaintance. It was even more stately and grand by sun light. In Durham may be seen the tomb of the Venerable Bede. The Galilee Chapel is an es- pecially interesting feature of Durham; not being a porch, as such chapels usually are, it can be entered only through the cathedral, so that it is a real chapel leading out of, and not into, the main edifice. Not far from Durham is Raby Castle, which 238 The Spell of England is of much interest both to antiquarians and to people who enjoy English country life, for hos- pitality is still dispensed on a lavish scale at Raby. Some of my friends who had just been visiting there told us some items about it. The hearth fire, which burns in a sort of covered porte-cochere, into which one drives upon ar- riving, has never been extinguished since the days of Edward the Confessor. The castle is so extensive that the bed-rooms of guests have little door plates on them and there are plans of the corridors placed for their convenience at every turn. The dinner is a charming function : at dessert only crystal and gold appear on the table, all silver and china being removed; and one of my friends was especially impressed by the custom of passing a gold jardiniere in which is growing a tiny stunted grape-vine; all the strength of the vine has been trained into a single bunch of grapes, which hangs in the centre, and from this the guest helps himself. It takes five years to perfect the growth of one of these bunches of grapes, and there is always a department in the conservatory given up to their cultivation, so that a new grape-vine may be brought in at every state dinner. Raby was for a long time in the Neville family, belonging now to Lord Barnard, Days in the North 239 Two days in Edinborough can hardly be called a trip to Scotland, and yet the memory lingers on it as a break well worth making, even though one may not be- able to include the heather and fog of the moors and all other things connected with a Scottish sojourn. As old James Howell, that interesting trav- eller and diarist of the seventeenth century, says: " This towne of Edinborough is one of the fairest streets that ever I saw: it is about a mile long, coming sloping down from the castle to Holy Rood House." I suppose there is very little doubt that Princes' Street is the finest in the world. The situation of this broad road, with its attractive combination of an- tiquity and modern life, exemplified on the one side by the noble hill crowned with the ancient castle, and on the other by a bewildering dis- play of attractive shops, is, so far as I know, unique. At the castle we were fortunate enough to have a typical guide with a Burns twist in his tongue. The tourists all stood about him, drink- ing in the Scotch, as one might say, while he pointed out the various interesting bits, and the features connected with Mary Queen of Scots. Among the most appealing spots of more recent times is the little cemetery laid out, in due form. 240 The Spell of England for the dogs of the soldiers. The little head stones bear testimony to the excellences of " Pat," " Chip," and " Flora, the Band Pet," while the general motto on the chief arch is ' ' Let Sleeping Dogs Lie, ' ' which strikes one as singularly apt. A jaunty soldier boy passed us on our rounds, and saluted the old guide in a very stiff and haughty manner. This youth had a mustache much twisted up at the ends, and his whole per- sonality seemed to irritate the elder man. He looked after the dapper figure scornfully. " Does that feller think he's the German Em- peror? " he exclaimed, and then muttered, " There's lots of feather-headed bodies round here! " When we asked at the Edinborough station if the train was liable to be crowded, the agent re- plied, " Aye, there's likely to be a goodish few going south! " We enjoyed Carlisle, and perhaps our enjoy- ment was enhanced by the fact that we were on home soil — the original Addisons came from this part of the country. It is reported to rain every half hour in Cumberland, and it certainly does so. We were caught in showers every time we ventured out in the sun. I quite fell in Days in the North 241 Idve with, the cathedral in Carlisle. It has nice old Norman arches, crushed out of shape, and ingenuously restored! It has no side chapels, and therefore can be seen almost at a glance. There is a pathetic window in the tran- sept in memory of the five children of Crawford Tait, who all died within a few days of each other, at this very Deanery. (The only sur- viving daughter is Mrs. Davidson, the wife of the Archbishop of Canterbury.) Sir Walter Scott was married in Carlisle. He met his bride in July, 1797, and in December they were married in the cathedral. Mary Queen of Scots was once a prisoner in Carlisle Castle. The cells of this castle are worth a visit. There are curious deep marks under the tiny grated windows; some authori- ties think that they were made by the fingers of prisoners clinging to the sill to get more air. A gruesome testimony to the discomfort of prisoners in the castle is a certain stone on which the rain used to fall, and which was licked smooth by those who were denied water. From Carlisle we decided to branch out into the unknown, and find the little town of Torpen- how from which, according to the family legends in America, Colonel John Addison 242 The Spell of England started to make his new home on unfamiliar shores, and where Dean Launcelot Addison, the father of Joseph, and Dean of Lichfield, lived as a boy. We only knew that no railway went to Torpenhow, but that we could travel as far as Mealsgate, within a few miles of the town, and we trusted fate enough to believe that the way would be opened for us to go the rest of the journey by some other conveyance. We were not sure that the very town was not a myih; we could get no news of it at Carlisle; we asked: they did not know Torpenhow. Torpentow, now ; — they could direct us to Torpentow — what a pity we did not want to go there ! But Torpenhow, — oh, no. They did not know it at all ! So, with quakes of doubtful anticipation, we took the train for Mealsgate. The guard looked at us so inquiringly, and asked " Two for Mealsgate? " in so excited a tone, that we de- cided that we were probably the only travellers who had ever undertaken this special adven- ture! We certainly appeared to be the only ones on the train that day. We alighted at Mealsgate. There was noth- ing in sight except the station and the lovely hills so characteristic of the Lake Country. There was just one man at the station, and he Days in the North 243 naturally stared at us. We asked him if it was possible to obtain any sort of conveyance to carry us to Torpenhow. Why this man was so much more intelligent than the inhabitants of Carlisle, I do not know; but he followed our idea. In the first place he gave us the local pro- nunciation ; our ignorance of this was probably the reason they did not know what we wanted in Carlisle. " You mean Trippewnow," he re- marked casually. He then told us that the postmaster owned a horse, and that, if we walked across some fields to the town, we could find him, which we did, in the only available country shop, where he sold all the comforts of home, and ran a few pigeon-holes for the occa- sional letters incident to his actual calling. The postmaster appeared to be a gentleman of ele- gant leisure, and said that it would give him pleasure to drive us to Trippennow. And an ideal drive it was, over hills and through dales, with the parson in full clericals just returning with a gun over his shoulder, and accompanied by a rudimentary game-keeper in rustic form, just ahead of us in the road when we started. We waited for some time in the shop while the wagonette was preparing; it was what we usually term a " governess cart," and a close fit for three. This gave us an opportunity to 244 The Spell of England observe the goods purveyed to the locality by its leading merchant. The centre of the shop was occupied by a full-sized reaping-machine, flanked by a rack of umbrellas, some bars of soap, a glass case displaying collars, and a cor- set on a form, near a hat display and a candy department. The post-office, about the size of an unpretending barber's rack, was thrust well out of the way at the rear. Correspondence was evidently not a vice at Mealsgate. Having now assured ourselves at least of the existence of the ancestral town, we ventured to wonder whether the old house itself was by any chance standing. We meekly asked the mag- nate if he had ever heard of a place called Low Wood Nook. " Oh, Low Wood Nook," he re- plied casually. " Yes, indeed; we shall pass there directly." It nearly deprived us of breath, the prompt ease of the answer. We were driven up to the very door of Low Wood Nook, which is now a public house, and quite on the road, which passes through the original grounds; and there, sure enough, cut in the stone over the door, were the initials, ,. _, (meaning, John and Elizabeth Addison), with the date, 1663, and the sign " Low Wood Nook ' ' in large letters ! We made ourselves Days in the North 245 known to the landlady, and the whole staff turned out to greet us, and to welcome from heyond the sea- those relics of the days when the house was " a gentleman's mansion," as the proprietress expressed it. They showed us all over it, from the old stone floors and ornate balustrades, still standing, to the ball-room and then to the old water-wheel and farm buildings. Then we drove on over the Cumberland hills to the little church, which dates from 1150. We were welcomed with true British hospitality by the delightful rector, who, during his ministry there of over thirty years, had been in occa- sional correspondence with the Addisons in America, and we had a delightful chat and took luncheon with him and his dear wife at the rectory. He showed us all the early records, and told us many items of interest. In 1701 one Thomas Addison founded a " dole " of twenty loaves of bread to be given to the poor each Sunday at the close of the morning service. The canny Thomas also provided in his will that no person should receive a loaf unless he had been present at the whole service. This custom is still observed, and there is a deal shelf near the font upon which the loaves repose until the appointed time for their distribution. There is in this church a " faculty pew " still 246 The Spell of England belonging to Low Wood Nook. The sockets may be seen in the stone jambs of the church door where great beams used to be placed to barricade against the Scottish invasions. They say that these border towns own hardly any of the original Communion plate, — the Scottish churches raided all the English churches, and took their silver, while the English churches filched the Scotch in return ! The region all about here is most beautiful. Torpenhow is only a dot of a town, but the whole country about it is composed of large estates, which are said to have the best shooting in the north of England. It was picturesque to walk through the streets with the rector, and see all the village children bobbing curtseys, in their little brass-toed shoes, while he asked after every relative in turn! The relation is very close and sacred in a little place like this, if the rector be such a man as this was. Only eight miles from Carlisle is the Scottish border, and the little village of Gretna Green, where romance had so strong a foothold until about a century ago. Runaway marriages were of constant occurrence, and the " blacksmith " of Gretna was kept busy. One may still see the old " Toll Bar," where many of these irregular weddings were per- 55 a H « 2; H K O Days in the Nort h 247 formed, althougli they also occurred at the neighbouring town of Springfield in the hotel, and at the Hall in Gretna. The records of some of these matches are amusing. One old gentleman ran away with his housekeeper, and, after having been married at Gretna, was driving home much pleased with himself when he passed on the road a carriage containing his son and a young lady bound on the same errand ! On one occasion the Earl of Westmoreland eloped with the daughter of a London banker. The father followed, and nearly overtook the couple, but the earl, quite desperate, shot one of the horses of the pursuing parent, and the daughter had just time to become Countess of Westmoreland before they were overtaken ! On the windows and walls of the Springfield hotel used to be many verses and autographs; one, for instance, is startling : ' ' John Anderson made a fool of himself at Gretna, 1831," and there was a couplet celebrating ..." A young lady from Tooting, Who married a major out shooting.' The most celebrated blacksmith of Gretna was one Paisley. A regular form of marriage certificate was given by Paisley to the bride, 248 The Spell of England ■which began thus: " This is to sartify to all persons that may be oonsarned that So-and-so and Such-an-one both came before me and de- clayered themselves to be single persons, and now married by the form of the Kirk of Scot- land, and agreeable to the Church of England, and given under my hand this eighteenth day of May, 1793. ' ' Paisley was such an enthusiast in his office that it is recorded that,^ while he lay on his death-bed, three couples came to be married, and that he performed the ceremonies, dying with the three hundred pounds held firmly in his hand! A little farther south lies what James Russell Lowell has called Wordsworthshire, the country about the Lakes, made familiar and enchanting to us all by the poet whose life has added an- other charm to those already so lavishly be- stowed by nature. The most picturesque and yet stately hills arise from the shores of beauti- ful silvery sheets of water ; the verdure is luxu- riant, and all associations are in tune with the poetical interpretation which this district has received. The grave of Wordsworth is a shrine of pil- grimage to nature worshippers. There is said to have been one lady who always came au Christmas time, for many years, to Dove Cot- Days in the North 249 tage, where the poet did much of his writing, and after plucking a rose from a certain winter- blooming bush, took it and laid it on his grave. The inscription on the monument in Gras- mere is by Keble ; it calls attention to the fact that Wordsworth was ' ' a true philosopher and poet, who by special gift and calling of Al- mighty God, whether he discoursed on man or on nature, failed not to lift the heart to holy things . . . raised up to be a chief minister not only of the noblest poesy but of high and sacred truth. ' ' Occasionally he also became the theme for some one's wit, however, as when Edward Fitz Gerald wrote to an artist: " I hear you were for a long time in Cumberland; did you paint a waterfall, or old Wordsworth, or Skid- daw, or any of the beauties? " Coleridge lived among these inspiring lakes until 1810; to Wordsworth they made a spe- cially deep appeal on his return from France after the stormy scenes of the French Revolu- tion. He had always lived in the Lake District, being born in Cockermouth, and living most of his later life at Rydal Mount and Dove Cottage at Grasmere. Southey, too, found much of his best inspiration among the hills. Two other notables, who lived in their later days among the lakes and hills, became close friends, al- 250 The Spell of England though I suppose both in temperament and his- tory they were singularly unlike; these incon- gruous friends were Mrs. Siddons and Hannah More ! No doubt each learned a great deal about her own sex from the other. While there is some likeness between the hills and mountains of the Lake District and those of Wales, there is a curious difference of con- formation in the valleys, which give a note of distinction. In Wales the hills rise immediately from the beds of the streams, or the lowest points of the valleys, giving the impression of clefts and rents among peaks, while in the Lake Country the valleys are flat for long distances, and the hills rise rather more abruptly from the broad plains, giving rather a suggestion of flat ground with mountains rising from it than of mountains chopped through here and there into, narrow passes. There is more restfulness in. the Westmoreland physical structure. There are many little cataracts, and these are known as " forces." De Quincey's description of Easedale, a sweet nook of rural country that leads from Gras- mere, is so exquisite and in harmony with the whole lake flavour that I am tempted to give it in his words: " The little valley of Easedale, ... is one of the most impressive solitudes Days in the North 251 amongst the mountains of the Lake District, and I must pause to describe it. Easedale is impressive as a solitude; for the depth of the seclusion is brought out and forced more point- edly upon the feelings, by the thin scattering of houses over its sides, and not the surface of what may be called its floor. . . . Secondly it is impressive from the excessive loveliness which adorns its little area. This is broken up into small fields and miniature meadows, separated, not as too often happens, with sad injury to the beauty of the Lake Country, by stone walls, but sometimes by little hedge-rows, sometimes by little sparkling pebbly ' becks ' lustrous to the very bottom, and not too broad for a child's flying leap, and sometimes by wild self-sown woodlands of birch, alder and> holly, mountain ash and hazel, that meander through the valley, intervening the different estates with natural sylvan marches, and giving cheerful- ness in the winter by the bright scarlet of their berries." . . . Castle Rock was the spot selected by Scott for the fairy castle in the " Bridal of Triermain." Some of the names in this region have curious origins. " Scratch Meal Scar " is derived from the presence of a demon, who has descended to modern use under the name of " Old Scratch! " 252 The Spell of England In Derwentwater are several exceptionally beautiful little islands. The loveliest is St. Hubert's Isle, where St. Hubert, a disciple of St. Cuthbert of Durham, lived in solitude, dying the same moment and day as his master, in 687. Rogers, in his " Pleasures of Memory," al- ludes to " going Down St. Hubert's consecrated grove Whence burst the consecrated h3rmn the tapered rite Aroused the fisher's soHtary night." I remember an instance of informal hospital- ity so complete in this essence that it is worthy of note. We were invited by a certain Dowager Lady M. to come and take tea on a certain after- noon, with Lady M. and her two daughters. Lady Betty and Lady Diana. The invitation was by note, and appointed the rather unusual hour of quarter to four. So, supposing that there must be some good reason for such a selection, we made a special effort, and got there. We found the house apparently empty, and we seated ourselves to await events. Pres- ently Lady Diana appeared, and apologized for keeping us. We sat and talked with her for half an hour — no signs of tea. At the end of this time she glanced at the clock and said she hoped Mama had not forgotten that we were Days in the North 253 coming. " I can't think what keeps her," she remarked, amiably. * ' She went out such a long time ago! " We expressed our contentment with our surroundings, and in about five min- utes three strange and forbidding looking clergymen were ushered in. No one seemed to know why they were there. In another five minutes Lady Betty appeared, and began scold- ing her sister for having allowed tea to wait. So by quarter past five we had tea. Through the guilelessness of their utterance we discov- ered that the three clergymen had been lured there also by notes, and that they had ex- pected to meet us on this occasion, but with equal guilelessness the ladies allowed it to tran- spire that they did not remember the circum- stance. A little later old Lady M. came streak- ing in as unsuspecting as a turtle, walked straight up to each guest in turn, and expressed great surprise and delight at finding us still in town! When chidden with her prolonged stay, she mildly expostulated: " I can't think why I was long — I only drove to the post- office, — but the pony is so slow. ' ' He must in- deed have been as slow as a clothes-horse, for the post-office was at the foot of her street. By half -past five every one was having a " lovely time ' ' and the evening closed cheerfully. Lord 254 The Spell of England M. did not appear, being very infirm, but his tea was poured out and taken to him around a screen at the end of the room, where we could imagine him sitting in state. It is pathetic to see a household breaking up so pleasantly and unconsciously, and withal so completely. Lady M. probably never recollected that she had written notes to those people, and on the whole I think the daughters managed the situa- tion pretty well. A very interesting visit may be made into Derbyshire to see Haddon Hall and Chatsworth and the dear little Bakewell Church, in short, to have a Peek at the Peak. When we arrived at Eowsley we were greatly surprised to see the number of vehicles standing about — the whole locality was broken out with barges and car- riages waiting to escort the entire Masonic Lodge of Derbyshire to Chatsworth to a garden party! So we began to fear that a carriage to Haddon would be too much to expect that after- noon. But the amiable hotel proprietor drove us over in his own little dog-cart, and we saw the historic mansion under good auspices. It is quite magnificent from the outside, hoary and stately. Inside it has suffered somewhat from a conscientious whitewasher, but it is a good deal as it was, and rather a chill and barren Days in the North 255 spot it must have been even when furnished, although they lived well so far as their food and entertainment went. The bailijff 's accounts for one Christmas, when the Earl of Rutland made merry at Haddon, include such items as : " Paid George Wood the cook for helping in the pastry all Christmas, three shillings; Paid W. Creswick for pulling fowls and poultry all Christmas, three and six; Paid Thomas Shaw the piper for piping all ditto, two shillings." Mention is also made of salaries to Otto Bram- well the dancer and his kinswomen, for dancing on this occasion. This was in 1663 ; it is also re- corded that during these sixties every year about thirty or forty oxen, four or five hundred sheep and eight or ten swine were consumed. Sir George Vernon was the father of Dorothy, and was known as the King of the Peak. Had- don Hall has not the charming flavour of age that one finds at Baddesley Clinton, but it is a very delightful place. Of course the Little One traced every step of Dorothy Vernon's elope- ment, and began at once, upon her return, to read all the fiction on the subject. Henry James enters into the youthful sentiment of this event, saying: " As I stood in the luminous dusk weaving the romance of the spot, I divined a Dorothy Vernon, and felt very much like a Lord 256 The Spell of England John." Nothing could be more romantic than the situation of Haddon, in its park and garden, against the deep verdure of the hills. On Sunday morning we drove over to Bake- well church, and saw the monuments of the Vernons and of Dorothy and her husband, with their curious little stiff children ranged kneel- ing below. The tombs display portraits of most of the members of the families. One is a young babe tightly swathed in grave-clothes, standing erect in a niche and smiling in a bland and smug way, with the pertinent text : ' ' Mine age is nothing in respect of Thee. " It is most appeal- ing. Sir George Vernon, the King of the Peak, lies here on a noble tomb, with a wife on either side, in truly amiable relation. Outside Bakewell church are a lot of stone coffins standing in a casual manner against the wall. A cross, ten centuries old, also stands there. This is a truly venerable relic. An anti- quary has pronounced upon this cross, saying, ' ' It has suffered very little since it was thrown down and defaced in the Danish invasion." This suggests a remote antiquity hard to real- ize. Many of the coffins are of Saxon workman- ship, and came from the immediate premises. This proves a very ancient foundation for this interesting little church. INFANT S MONUMENT IN BAKEWELL CHURCH. Days in the North 257 Chatsworth is a fine and extensive estate, with a " model village " on it for those em- ployed, but it did not interest me much, Chatsworth has various curious artificial water works in its park-like grounds. I think I feel toward such inventions a good deal as Dr. Johnson did, when he wrote, upon a visit to Chatsworth in 1772: "I was yesterday at Chatsworth. They complimented me by play- ing the fountain and opening the cascade. But I am of opinion that when one has seen the ocean, cascades are but little things! " Not far from Derby is the small village of Eyam, which was an inexplicably fruitful centre for the plague. In one field lie seven stones whose inscriptions form a record of the violence of this visitation. They are the tombstones of seven members of one family, who died on seven successive days. A local poet has told the story of his town in simple words, expressive for this very reason : "Their prison op'ed the murderous fiends burst forth, While doubting first men marked the rumour vague, UntU, from east to west, from south to north, Was shrieked that piercing cry, ' The plague — the plague! ' The morning saw uprouse her with the lark The mother, hale and hearty from her rest; The evening closed upon a festering mark That showed the gnawing canker in her breast. 258 The Spell of England Home came the father down the village street, Expectant of fond welcome on return — No loving hand met his, no voice to greet Perhaps the morrow's break might bring his turn. The snooded maid that in the cornfield gleaned. The lad who brooked no cares to crease his brow. Time honoured age and infancy unweaned Alike sank victims to the shades below." Lichfield should be visited on the road to London. This is not one of the first cathedrals m importance, and we are not saying much about cathedrals at this time. But one should notice how delightfully the three spires of Lich- field combine at different angles of approach; sometimes the two front ones seem to be the taller, and the central one to occupy only a point in the perspective; whereas really it is the tallest and largest of the three. But, viewed from any spot, the cluster is always graceful, fascinating, and unique. On the f agade of Lichfield are many statues ; one experiences a slight shock in recognizing Charles II, " in wig and plumes and trunk hose, of almost Gothic grotesqueness," as James says. The chief association with Lichfield is the re- membrance that the great Dr. Samuel Johnson was born there. His statue, which is, as Henry James says, " of some inexpensive composite. Days in the North 259 painted a sHny brown and of no great merit of design, fills out the vacant dulness of the little square in much the same way as his massive personality occupies — with just a margin for Garrick — the record of his native place." Near Lichfield was the little cell of the hermit Saint Chad. Defoe expresses it with naivete: " He lived an eremitical life here, by the spring, near Stow church, in a little hovel or cell." Speaking of Lichfield, Edward FitzGerald says, in a letter: " I love a small cathedral town, and the dignified respectability of the church potentates is a part of the pleasure! " Dean Launeelot Addison seemed to come quit© close to us at Lichfield, where his arms are carved in stone over the door at the side, which was built during his administration. CHAPTER XI THE VALE OP CONWAY /AKING a train from Chester to Con- way may in itself be an experience. After chasing up and down the length of the platform, looking for seats in the train, we had almost decided that we could get no accommodations at all. The first three cars were empty; but it was decreed that they should be removed. They were not to go, so removed they were. Then it was decided that three more cars should be added in place of those already taken off, so a detachment of cars started from the opposite side of the station, backed down the line, went forward to another switch, and finally backed on to the front of the train, exactly to the place whence the three original cars had been taken away. Just what class of cerebration it was that determined upon thus passing twenty minutes in changing cars, I do not pretend to know. At last we obtained seats — excellent seats — and arrived in a surprisingly short time at Conway, one of 260 The V ale of Conway 261 the most fascinating towns I know. Truly did the fusty old poet, Thomas Churchyard, feel the sentiment which he tried to express, when he wrote: Behold but Wales, and note the castles there, And you shall find no such works anywhere, So old, so strong, so costly, and so high; Not under sun is to be seen with eye! " We began an immediate attack upon the an- tiquities with which the town is replete. Of course, the " sight " of primary importance is the castle. It is a singularly satisfactory ruin, composing in the most charming manner, with its group of fine grey turrets and imposing bat- tlements. It is just, sufficiently broken down to be a defined ruin, and yet every room is there, lacking only the floors and roofs. The colour, a soft rich grey, is in the most delightful con- trast to the deep green in which it is set among the hills, rising almost directly from the shore. The castle was built about 1284, under Ed- ward I, by the architect Henry Elreton, who also built Carnarvon. A great Christmas feast was given in 1291 to celebrate the completion of the castle. The old writer Pennant observes : " A more beautiful fortress never arose." I 262 The Spell of England am disposed to agree with Pennant, even though there are such fragmentary remainders of this sublime structure by which it may be judged. The ruin to which it is reduced was partly deliberate, for in 1665 Edward, Earl of Conway, to whom the castle had been granted by Charles II, had all the iron, lead, and timber forcibly removed, and sent to Ireland for some purpose best comprehended by his contempo- raries. To our minds such a deliberate weak- ening of an existing building of importance would seem almost inexcusable. There was a good deal left, however, for in 1756 Lord Lyt- telton wrote from Shrewsbury that, had a cer- tain noted architect of his day seen Conway Castle, ' ' he would have fallen down and adored the architect." The origin of the name, Conway, is from " Cyn " (meaning chief) and " Gwy " (wa- ter). This body of water on which the castle faces is so beautiful that it gave its name to the town, which is said to be shaped like a Welsh harp as it lies around the bay on which it is situated. Many Welsh names are interestingly derived in this way. The name of the country itself has great significance. It makes all the differ- ence whether one speaks of Wales or of Cymru The Vale of Conway 263 — Cymru means ' ' the land of brothers, ' ' while Wales means " the land of strangers." In the days of King John an English army was stationed for a time at Conway, and a con- temporary account mentions that it was en- gaged in " watching, fasting, praying and freezing ' ' in Conway during the colder months. After the castle at Conway, the next appeal to lovers of beauty, and those who are suscep- tible to that strange and fascinating spell of this part of Britain, will be made by the an- cient Tudor house, Plas Mawr. This " great mansion " of grey stone is over three hundred years old, and is in an almost perfect state of preservation. One enters by a fascinating courtyard, and proceeds up a few steps into the house. All the rooms remain, with their plas- ter-modelled ceilings, and their panelled walls, much as they were in the days when Queen Elizabeth stayed there with her beloved Leices- ter. The tiny oriel windows and lanterns on the outside of the house are most interesting and beautiful in their stubby quaintness. The house was built by Eobert Wynne, one of the important Welshmen of Elizabeth's reign; the motto over the door is rendered in both Greek and Latin — " anexou, Apexou; " " sustine, abstine," — in English, "Bear and forbear." 264 The Spell of England A most restrained sentiment for its period, surely. In the courtyard is an ancient bardic stone, on which historic poets are reported to have stood at various times in the life of the nation. Over the fireplaces in the beautiful banqueting hall and other state apartments are the arms of the Wynnes together with the royal arms, and the mouldings around the heavy doors are cut in the solid wood — not applied afterwards, as mouldings usually are. A curious feature in the small kitchen is an old-fashioned bread- safe, suspended from the ceiling beams; this method of isolating the bread suggests infinite possibilities from rats and insectiferous depre- dators in the past! A lavish acconunodation for cooking turkeys and geese is provided by a great revolving spit which must often have been tested to its full capacity when feasts were in progress. The plaster ceilings of Plas Mawr have been famous always. Pepys alludes to such rooms, saying that " all the house " was filled with " figures of stories," and Spenser comments upon houses thus decorated in Elizabethan times, when modelling was often gilded: " Gold was the parget, and the ceiling bright Did shine aU scaly with great plates of golu. ' The Vale of Conwa y 265 Plas Mawr is said still to support a competent ghost, which makes itself heard in the vicinity of the " Priest's hiding hole " from time to time. Of great interest, too, is the less pretentious but much older house, Aber Conwy, built in 1300 ; this is in fact the oldest house now stand- ing in Wales. The original beams and floors are there, and the partitions between the rooms are constructed of ' ' wattle and daub ' ' — parts of this work are exposed so that visitors may see the actual wicker structure, the inside of the house being practically a gigantic basket, over- laid with clay and plaster of crude but powerful texture. The motto on an early sun-dial here appealed to me: " Time tryeth Trothe." Like all British places, Conway has its curi- ous street signs. When one sees a board an- nouncing, " This house on sale by private treaty," one almost looks for a conspiracy. The express cart advertises, " Railway Collect- ing Van for Fast Train Traffic." I don't know whether it would deign to wait upon slow trains — probably not ! On a house across the street from the Castle Hotel, was the sign, " Lloyd Llewellyn, Paper Hanger and Writer. ' ' What writing had to do with paper hanging I did not comprehend, 266 The Spell of England until I learned that sign painting was here de- nominated " writing." The curfew is stUl rung in Conway. On the fire engine house is the inscription : ' ' Night fire alarm bell, to be rung between 11 p. m. and 6 A. M. " As it is here expressed, this suggests the hideous possibility of a continuous curfew! The Church of St. Mary and All Saints in Conway is delightful, and one cannot quite un- derstand how nice it is until he goes to a Welsh service, and hears the hearty singing for which these people are famous. The church was part of an ancient monastic establishment, and has a wonderful carved rood screen and an inter- esting old font. A statuette of John Gibson the sculptor stands near the door ; Gibson was born in a tiny cottage very near Conway. A very remarkable grave-stone may also be noted; it has the following illuminating inscription: " Here lyeth the bodye of Nich's Hookes, Gent., who was the forty-first child of his father by Alice his wife, and the father of twenty-seven children, who died ye twentieth daye of March, 1637." There are also stones with fleurs-de-lys on them, which are supposed to date from the time of the "Wars of the Roses. The most famous item, connected with this church, is the grave The Vale of Conway 267 of the children referred to in " We are Seven." Wordsworth immortalized this little grave in his celebrated lines, too well known to require repetition here. The most pleasing way to go to Bettws-y- Coed is by coach from Conway, down the beau- tiful valley of the river Conway, over the rich rolling hills of Wales. Nature is to be seen in many aspects on this drive and the spell of the hills and the fertile valleys is keenly felt. One of the finest things made by man is the bridge at Llanrwst; it was designed by Inigo Jones, and the lines are singularly graceful. It being Sunday when we visited Bettws, we found difficulty in buying post cards. I went to a little tea-shop to see if I could induce the woman to sell me some. She sniffed, and ob- served, " You can't get any to-day; everybody is too religious to sell you any." And then, with a superior toss of her head, " I was brought up different. I should not like to live among them." This was precisely what she seemed to be doing, however, but her shop was open, in defiance of public criticism! There are curious Sabbatarian contrasts and extremes in Wales; a barouche drove past us on Sunday morning, with six men seated in it, playing cards as if their life depended on it! 268 The Spell of England Even the goblins which are said to infest Bettws-y-Coed often cooperate with the strict Sabbatarians in discouraging undue Sunday en- tertainment. A fisherman who went out with his rod on Sunday saw a fine salmon in the stream. He cast his line for it, and the fish — a goblin in disguise — took hook, line, and all, and tumbled him into the water. Appearances of goblins are still believed in by many of the ignorant people in Wales. Hogg has described the aspect of one of these beings, and I think it is a very convincing por- trait. " Then up there raise ane wee wee man From off the moss-grey stone; His face was wan like the cauliflower, For he neither had blude nor bone." On the road, the driver pointed out to us the little thatched cottage in which the sculptor Gibson was born. Bettws itself is not so picturesque a town as tradition leads one to suppose; it is its situa- tion amidst sensational scenic effects which makes it so remarkable. Perhaps the most startlingly picturesque sight near Bettws-y- Coed is Swallow Falls, a cataract which takes gigantic leaps up amidst the cold crags, and yet The Vale of Conway 269 is surrounded with verdure in its immediate vicinity. It is reported that the soul of one of the early Wynnes experiences perpetual Pur- gatory in Swallow Falls, being " purged, pun- ished and spouted upon ' ' for his many sins : a novel form of " water cure." CHAPTEE Xn SNOWDONIA AND THE GELEKT LEGEND jN going from Conway to Carnarvon, one passes naturally through Bangor, and a few hours can be profitably spent in that town. Of course it is necessary to observe the far-famed Menai bridges, across the little strait which separates the main land and Anglesea, but, to people who are used to Brooklyn, these bridges have little to recommend them to our wonder except a prior claim, and a finer situation. George Bor- row speaks of the bridge at Bangor completed in 1820, as " the result of the mental and mani- fest labours of the ingenious Telford." Bangor Cathedral is small and not especially interesting. Here the great Owen Gwynedd, dying in 1169, was interred. The new university, opened by the Prince of Wales in the summer of 1911, after his In- vestiture at Carnarvon, is a really splendid modern building, one of the best and most 270 Snowdonia and the Gelert Legend 271 coherent structures of recent date that I have seen either in England or Wales. In the tunnel arch at the railroad station at Bangor, a slant at the outer side of the opening suggests Egyptian construction. In the curious way they have in the British Isles of " follow- ing a leader," the builders of small houses in Bangor have adopted this form, and several cottage fagades have sloping outer sides, resem- bling an incorporated buttress ! Carnarvon seems to me to be less attractive then Conway in most respects. We happened upon an unfortunate moment, perhaps, for the whole town was engaged in painting and scra- ping for the Investiture, which was to take place in a few weeks. The castle looked as if it had been subjected to a course of sand-blast, but it is possible that this is its usual appearance, for I learn that it is built of white sandstone, and that this stone has grown more and more blonde with the centuries. There is something human in a building turning white with age, after all. The castle is grand, and the o^tside is in a wonderful state of preservation. But, having been restored, it lacks the romance and atmosphere which is such an attraction at Con- way. The long structure lies very finely along on the low shore, being usually reflected in the 272 The Spell of England water, which enhances the romantic effect of any beautiful building, giving it the added charm of the repeat. The towers are all oc- tagonal in form, and this feature is, I fancy, unique, and certainly effective. Edward I built Carnarvon, and the first Prince of Wales, Edward II, was born there, in the part known as the Eagle Tower, in 1284. The little room is still shown. It has a fireplace and a window, — all the comforts of home as then understood, — although it is hardly more than twelve by eight feet in size. The story of the first prince is as follows : The Welsh people demanded a prince of their own, who should speak no language but Welsh. The king ac- ceded to their request, promising them a prince who should be a Welshman by birth, and who should speak no other tongue. Then he brought from the castle his little son, a few days old, who actually filled these requirements, and the people were more than satisfied, and, ever since, the eldest son of the King of England has been Prince of Wales. The town has no quaintness and little appeal to casual visitors. Slate is used all about this district, as it comes from quarries in the imme- diate vicinity, and this makes the general colour of the town less pleasing than when other stones '■''",'■' <~: ^ ^■:", ■•'■^■-v■■ .=^»-:. ■ ,- t |^. , .-:: -::: ■li:' ■ :i llJv ■t»- ^'i|^^^K»^^^^^^^H9^H| :^ ^^^^ i 4iti ;.W3,^Bl % lit m VI |^PiV^M?^S ' 1 " llfil W^^K/m^ |,--»-jK 'i^; ■\.i .\^ I KB ' mjK^mSl. -l^m^ %J mrwn^^^KmPJL^m^Baii ^r- . BIRTH OF THE FIRST PRIXrE OF WALES AT CARNARVON. Snowdonia and the Gelert Legend 273 are in greater profusion. One should notice an inconspicuous fence just across the toll-bridge over which one passes to get the best view of the castle. This fence is made in long flat up- right slats, wired together, and at first attracts no attention; until suddenly one observes that it is made of slate, when it becomes more curi- ous, if not more beautiful. House painters were busy at Carnarvon. One could not look out of a window or down a street without seeing active brushes in all direc- tions, whitewashing, colouring, or varnishing to the king 's taste. At least, we will hope it was to his taste, for he had to sit up with it for some time soon after that. For our taste, the town had sliffered, and was suffering much from this brilliant renewing of surface tints. In our hotel in Carnarvon the bed-spreads were starched. When turned casually back over the foot-board, the stiff white folds assumed a striking resemblance to the Snowdon range ! We were told that in the old times a hundred men could hold Carnarvon Castle ; it was so ad- mirably fortified. This is the more remarkable, since it is situated on low land on the river, and would seem to be singularly assailable among Welsh castles. I have spent many Fourths, of July, and most 274 The Spell of England of them have been noisy ones; but I do not think I have ever heard more noise in one day than I did on the Fourth of July in 1911, when we took a motor ear from Carnarvon and went to Beddgelert and around Snowdon, " the home of eagles," in order to see the quiet lone- liness of the dignified Welsh mountains. Our motor evidently felt, with Mr. Baring-Gould, that Snowdon was " to be approached with hesi- tation and reluctance. ' ' This car showed symp- toms of exploding every time there was the slightest rise in the ground. The best thing we could say for it was that it was a good coaster. But we soon forgot car and noise, and every- thing else except the beauty that was all around us. The mists hung over Snowdon at intervals, but sunny patches illuminated it and the other peaks from time to time. The varying greens and greys, with the purples of the slate quar- ries at Llanberis, and the deep gorges at Aber- glaswyn, make a panorama never to be for- gotten. On this trip we felt constantly compelled to quote the old poet, Thomas Churchyard: " For when one hill behind your back you see Another comes, two times as high as he! " We decided the origin of the Welsh leek was from above — the sky "leaks" every ten Snowdonia and the Gelert Legend 276 minutes, and yet it can hardly be said that it rains. It was not enough to interfere with our pleasure as we jogged on, " Beside grey mountain stream and lonely lake, And through old Snowdon's forest solitude," as Southey says. The famous Giraldus Cambrensis, monk and author, conducted Archbishop Baldwin through Wales in the twelfth century. He says : " I must not pass over in silence the mountains called by the Welsh Eryri, but by the English Snowdon, or Mountains of Snow, which . . . seem to rear their lofty summits even to the clouds." Giraldus proved the human and humourous temper of the archbishop by an anecdote told on a trip through these hills. " Having traversed the valley," says Giraldus, " and reached the opposite side with consider- able fatigue . . . the archbishop sat down . . . and relaxing into a pleasantry highly, laudable in a person of his approved gravity, thus ad- dressed his attendants. ' Who amongst you in this company can now delight our weary ears by whistling? ' Which is not easily done by people out of breath." An intimate touch like this shows us the mediaeval band of travellers 276 The Spell of England in a more appealing guise than would pages of description ! The view from the top of Snowdon is one of the finest in the British Isles. A verse by R, Williams is appropriate : " On Snowdon's haughty brow I stood, And viewed afar old Menai's flood; Carnarvon Castle, eagle crowned, And all the beauteous prospect round." Apparently Mr. Williams had a better day for the view than did the visitors chronicled by Charles Kingsley, who only remarked: " And they went up Snowdon, too, and saw little be- side fifty fog-blinded tourists, five-and-twenty dripping ponies, and five hundred empty porter bottles; therefore they returned as do many, disgusted, and with great colds in their heads." One of the most appreciative accounts of Snowdon occurs in George Borrow 's " Wild Wales. ' ' This book is available to every reader, but for the convenience of those who do not happen to have it at hand, it will save interrup- tion if the passages are given here. " Snow- don or Eryri," says Borrow, " is no single hill, but a mountainous region, the loftiest part of which ... is nearly four thousand feet above the level of the sea, and generally considered Snowdonia and the Gelert Legend 277 to be the highest point of South Britain. The name Snowdon was bestowed upon this region by the early English, on account of its snoA\ry appearance in winter; Eryri by the Britons, because in the old time it abounded with eagles, Eryri in the ancient British language signify- ing an eyrie or breeding place of eagles. . . . It is interesting from its connection with his- tory : it was to Snowdon that Vortigern retired from the fury of his own subjects ; ... it was there that he called to his counsels Merlin. . . . It was in Snowdon that he built the castle, which he fondly deemed would prove impregnable, but which his enemies destroyed by flinging wild fire over its walls ; and it was in a wind beaten valley of Snowdon that his dead body decked in green armour had a mound of earth and stones raised over it. It was on the heights of Snowdon that the brave but unfortunate Llywe- lin ap Griffith made his last stand for Cambrian independence ; and it was to Snowdon that that very remarkable man, Owen Glendower, retired with his irregular bands before Henry IV and his numerous and disciplined armies, soon, however, to emerge from its defiles and follow the foe, retreating less from the Welsh arrows frotn the crags, than from the cold, rain, and starvation of the Welsh hills. . . . Yes, to ro- 278 The Spell of England mance Snowdon is indebted for its interest and consequently for its celebrity." Perhaps Bor- row is right ; if it were not for all the historic romance connected with it, this mountain would not be any more significant than many another of similar proportions. As it is, it stands, among the modern poets, almost as Parnassus stood to the Greeks. To descend from poetry to slate — these mountains are quite as prolific in one as in the other — these slates are cut in three sizes. There was once a great discussion between Lord Penrhyn, the owner of certain slate quar- ries, and the slate merchant, as to a trade-name to be adopted to distinguish these three pieces of different degrees. At length, with the help of Lady Penrhyn, they evolved a system by which the largest slates were known as Duch- esses, the next as Countesses, and the smallest as Ladies. Some amusing verses were written on the subject by a Welsh judge: " It has truly been said, as we all most deplore, That GrenviUe and Pitt have made peers by the score; And now it is said, unless I have blundered, There's a man who makes peeresses here by the hundred! By the stroke of a hammer, without the king's aid, A Lady, or Countess, or Duchess, is made; . . . And you'll see, when Her Grace is but once in his clutches, With what little respect he will handle a Duchess!" Snowdonia and the G-elert Legend 279 Then Beddgelert ! What a fascinating spot ! The pathetic old stones in the meadow, known as the Grave of Gelert, are often supposed to be the remains of the cromlech of a mighty chieftain who has been forgotten. Some say that the name originated from the presence in this locality of the grave of Celert, an Irish chief. But they have always been associated with the legendary story of the faithful hound of Prince Llewellyn. It is a delight to walk across the meadows to this little canine shrine, and then along the bank of the dimpling stony stream past the old church and into the village, pausing to look at the ancient cottage which is said to have served this early Llewellyn as a palace. Over the door an artist, who might justly be called a ' ' writer, ' ' has painted a sign portraying the bloody wolf, the dying hound, the distressed parent and the cooing infant, in suitably lurid colours. There are a great many versions of the legend of Gelert, but the oldest is in manuscript, in a volume known as the lolo MS., and I ap- pend it here. " There lived formerly at Aber- garwan a man and wife, who had a son, and he was their only child, an infant in a cradle. One day, when his wife was gone to attend her de- votions, the man heard the cry of hounds on 280 The Spell of England his land, in full chase after a stag. ' I will go to meet them,' he said, ' that I may, as lord of the land, get the share due me of the stag.' And away he went, leaving his child in the cradle, and near the cradle lay his greyhound. Whilst the man was absent in the field, a wolf entered the house, and would have killed and devoured the child, but the greyhound fought hard with the wolf, and after a long and bloody struggle, and many wounds and bruises, he at last succeeded in killing him. It so happened that during the struggle the cradle was by some means or other overturned, and it lay on the ground with its face downwards. When the man returned to the house, the greyhound, covered with blood, got up to welcome his mas- ter. . . . But the man, when he found blood on the greyhound, and a pool of blood on the floor, thought that the greyhound had killed his child, and so, in a fit of rage and distraction, he thrust the greyhound through with his sword, and killed him. But when he went to the cradle, and had turned it, and found his child alive and unhurt, and saw the wolf lying dead by the side of the cradle, and that the greyhound had been mangled and torn by the teeth of the wolf, he became almost frantic with grief." In time, this story became fastened upon Prince Llewel- Snowdonia and the Gelert Legend 281 lyn, and the fact has always been told that he buried his faithful hound in an honourable grave, which has been pointed out at Beddge- lert. There are several forms in which this legend has been told in other countries, including one recorded in Sanscrit, concerning a dutiful ichneumon (an Indian household pet, I judge), who did battle with a snake and was rewarded by the same injustice as that meted out to poor Gelert. The story appears in Persian, with certain variations, and in Spanish. A native of Beddgelert writes, alluding to the widespread myth, that " it had no place at all in the folk lore of this part until it was brought to the parish by the late David Prich- ard, of the Goat Hotel. ... It was he, along with William Prichard, the parish clerk, and Eichard Edwards . . . who raised the stone that is exhibited to-day on the spot that was afterwards called the Dog's Grave. We heard the latter two saying that they tried to raise up a large stone which lay on the northern side of the hillock, but that they failed, and they car- ried the present stone from another place in order to put it where it is now." Mr. D, E. Jenkins, who has written extensively on this subject, says, in speaking of Mr. Prichard, 282 The Spell of England ' ' The skill with which he used the Gelert legend for the purpose of increasing his own business, and for making popular his adopted little vil- lage, will command the admiration of genera- tions of tourists yet to be born ! ' ' Mr. Jenkins goes on to explain that this observation is really intended. He says : ' ' We can scarcely conceive of any one failing to feel an' interest in the grave simply because it is a recent con- struction. In this grave we find evidence of the vividness with which the Welsh miud takes in the pith of a story; here is his last mark of admiration for such bravery and faithfulness. ' ' In this grave, too, if one might dig, one might find the remains of an excellent dog, which once belonged to two maiden ladies, who named it Gelert, and who allowed it to be interred in this spot for such reasons as are best comprehended by the sensitive Welsh conscience — perhaps it was to ensure that the affirmative reply might be truthful when visitors asked if it were really the grave of Gelert ! We went up to the Eoyal Goat Hotel for tea, and found it a delightfully typical and com- fortable hostelry. Some of the earlier houses of Beddgelert date from the fifteenth century. The town is so isolated, and yet in such beauti- ful surroundings, that one can understand Pen- Snowdonia and the Gelert Legend 283 nant's feelings when he said it was " the fittest place ia the world to inspire religious medita- tion." Charles Kingsley speaks of the " flat meadows, mountain cradled, and the grave of the mystic greyhound, and the fair old church, shrouded in tall trees." Only fifty years ago all transportation between Beddgelert and its nearest market towns, Carnarvon and Llanrwst, had to be by means of man or beast ; carts had not been introduced, and the first small vehicle which was brought to town created quite an excitement. In the Visitor's Book at the Eoyal Goat some one has inscribed these lines : " Beddgelert! Gelert's bed and grave, Replete with nature's charms, Great guardian mountains stand around i And hold it in their arms." Crude as is the verse, it has in it so much actual statement of fact that it somehow lin- gers in the memory. In old times hotel accommodation in Bedd- gelert was most inadequate. It was very prim- itive when Nicholas Owen wrote in 1792 : ' ' The village ale-house of Beddgelert, the place of rest nearest the bridge, affords no variety of accommodation; the catalogue of negatives is 2S4 The Spell of England abundant. No butcher's meat, no wheaten bread, no spirits; oat and barley bread, ale, porter and eggs commonly make the improvi- dent stranger's repast." To my taste, this sounds attractive, but the English always de- mand meat with every meal! The tiny inn, Ty Isaf, which purports to be the palace of Llewellyn, once owned a cele- brated tankard, known as " the large Pint of Beddgelert." The mug held two quarts, and was of pewter. Any man who could drain it at a single draught was not obliged to pay for his drink! No doubt such capacity was so rare that the generosity of the hotel was seldom taxed, whereas frequent attempts and failures must have been a constant source of revenue! It was engraved with a goat climbing up a rock, with a verse on the other side which may be thus translated: " My fill of beer which makes content My owner will to thee present, If with one hand and single draught Thou wilt but have it wholly quaffed! " The name of the Goat was given to the larger hotel at the suggestion and request of two travellers, distinguished men, both of them, who, happening to see a goat silhouetted Snowdouia and the Gelert Legend 285 against the sky on the top of one of the craggy mountains in the immediate vicinity, asked the proprietor to christen the hotel " The Groat." After the visit of the Duke of Connaught, the name was changed to " The Royal Goat." (History does not relate whether his Eoyal Highness was pleased or not.) Among the minor legends in Beddgelert is one which refers to a certain old doctor who was fond of the chase, but who, by reason of his profession, had no time to indulge his sport- ing proclivities. As this gentleman, however, was endowed with supernatural powers, so often met in Wales, he had the ability to raise spirits. So, in the evenings, what should our worthy doctor do but settle himself with a pipe under a tree near his house (for which purpose he brought out his easy chair), and then, for his own entertainment and the pastime of the vil- lage, he would summon up from the spirit world " witch ham," a sort of goblin in animal form, with a pack of ' ' hell hounds ' ' to follow, and the hunt would proceed merrily evening after evening! CHAPTER XIII MERIONETH AND THE DEB GRAND climax in Wales was reached in Harlech. This historic fortress, grey and grim, stately and hoary, is reminiscent of the dreams and memo- ries of childhood through its popular associa- tion with the well-known " March of the Men of Harlech." When the Yorkists captured the castle in 1468, this march was written in honour of the noble men who, though not victorious, had filed out bravely to their defeat. It has ever since been one of the most stirring and inspiring of the Welsh national airs. Harlech was strongly Lancastrian in the Wars of the Roses. They held out during a long siege against the Yorkists. The constable of the castle is said to have exclaimed, " I held a castle in France until every old woman in Wales heard about it ; and now I will hold this castle in Wales until every old woman in France shall hear of it! " Indeed the constable de- served the reputation which he won. Verily: 286 Merioneth and the Dee 287 " This is the castle of old romance, This is the hill where the Muses sang, Where Merlin's harp, from the sea's expanse, GaUed the cold sea-maids from the dance And echo ia the sea-walls rang." So sings the Welsh, poet, Ernest Rhys. When Henry III had won a Welsh victory, the address made to him by an old seer is worth reflecting upon: " This nation, King, may now as in times of yore be troubled," said he, " but it can never be wholly subdued by the wrath of man unless the wrath of God shall concur. Nor do I think that any other nation than this Wales . . . shall, in the day of severe searching before the Supreme Judge, answer for this corner of the earth. ' ' It looks as if the prophecy of the seer might be fulfilled. When we were in Harlech they were prepar- ing for a great musical festival, and had stretched an enormous green and white awning over the keep, but the result was not bad, and it might have been so arranged for a tourna- ment in the middle ages. The opalescent beauty of the distant moun- tains as we travelled from Harlech to Bar- mouth was exquisite and restful. I should never advise any visitor with limited time for Wales to stop at Barmouth. No doubt a long 288 The Spell of England stay in this delicious climate would have its attractions, but there is little to attract one who is looking for the spell of history or of art. Barmouth making no appeal to any of the tastes or temperaments of our party, we went directly through to Dolgelley, which filled every re- quirement of our associated needs. One passes by Criccieth Castle, which is situated in a ro- mantic way on a high bluff on the shore, but that can also be spared, after Harlech. The story is told of an old gentleman of Dolgelley, who, in describing his native town to a friend with whom he was dining, took a de- canter, and, placing it on the table, remarked: " There — that is the church," and, casting a handful of nut shells around the bottle, added, " And these are the houses." This is still practically all there is to be seen in Dolgelley, and yet it is full of satisfying atmosphere. The name of the town grew from " Doll-y- cyll," meaning " The Dale of the Hazel G-roves." Dolgelley has a truly pastoral flavour on one side of the town, and a singularly stony and severe but quaint aspect on the other. We spent our first afternoon there sitting out on the common, watching a cricket match, and then saw the cows milked before returning for Merioneth and the Dee 289 a stroll in the vegetable garden of the Golden Lion Hotel. We proceeded then to tea in the other garden, this hotel being blessed with two, and imbibed this refreshment under the spread- ing trees on an ideal afternoon. After dinner in the evening we sat out in front of this excellent little hotel, and remarked upon the stage-like setting of the tiny open place lying before us. On the right was the squat tower of the little church, dark and grey, and against it some nestling houses. In front of these stood a spreading squared Japanese- looking pine tree, and, above, the new moon in the sky. On the other' side, similar buildings occupied the foreground, while a narrow street, " up centre " as stage-directions would call it, led to a vista view of high mountains, pale Indian red under a white haze, "w^ith deep green hills in front. No sooner had we spoken of the sensational and operatic effect of this setting, than a tall man ia a frock coat came down the street, carrying a violin case. The orchestra appeared to have arrived ! He placed the case on a low stone wall, and began to un- pack. It would not have been possible to plan a prettier entertainment on the vaudeville stage than that which followed. As the strains of 290 The Spell of England the violin, really beautifully played, arose upon the twilight air, the populace began to gather stealthily about the edges of the square — emerging from the wings, as it were. Little Welsh lasses in scarlet cloaks stole slyly out from the narrow streets, and stood in spellbound bunches. Youths full of bravado lounged about, shrugging their superior shoul- ders loftily when asked to contribute their penny. The Curfew interrupted for a brief time, but our musician was artist enough to wait until its peal had ceased. Indeed, he had the true temperament. When the " boots " came from the hotel with money for him, he would not stop playing to receive it, but murmured, " Up my sleeve, Jock," whereupon Jock " posted " the pennies into the player's raised left cuff ! We were amused, too, when the music had come to an end, to hear a little group of Welsh TafiSes request " one more; " and their choice was equally amusing — ' ' Yip-i-addy ! ' ' After dark we strolled up into the little market square. Nearly every one had retired, and the town was as quiet as sleep in the moon- light. We saw a little group, however, standing out alone in the open space ; they looked as if they might be conspirators, for they stood with their heads close together as if plotting. As Merioneth and the Dee 291 we got nearer, soft strains of vocal music reached us — we found that our stage villains were three old city fathers, standing there and deliberately singing a trio into each other's faces ! The picturesqueness of Dolgelley does not even pass with the night — daylight finds it equally fascinating in a different way. The fol- lowing morning a little, bent-over town crier, with a bell nearly as large as himself, was seen going through the streets announcing the news in Welsh. The country around Dolgelley has been pro- nounced by one writer to be "a very Garden of Eden," while another says that there is no place where nature " bears so rich and varied an aspect." The followers of Owen Glendower made Dol- gelley their great rallying ground, but, aside from this, the town has not an eventful history. One of the most beautiful mountains in Wales is Cader Idris, which lies just behind the town. A. G. Bradley says: " Cader Idris springs magnificently from its very doorsteps, while the clear stream of the Union . . . sweeps under its ancient bridge and out into the daylight." This mountain, so beautiful in colour and form, was called Cader Idris, " The Chair of Idris," 292 The Spell of England because a celebrated astronomer of that name in the sixth century used often to mount its peak to make his observations. There is said to be a giant living on Cader Idris, who, one day, found three pebbles in his shoe; he threw them down the hillside, where they may be seen to-day. These are three conspicuous rocks on the road from Dolgelley to Machynlleth. There is a little inn near Dolgelley, called by the orig- inal name of " The Cross Foxes." From the train, beyond Dolgelley, the view of Bala Lake is the chief attraction, and very lovely is this expanse of calm water, set among tinted hills and verdant plains. We stayed a day or two at the Hand Hotel in Llangollen, where Browning lived for some time. It is a well situated house. A little waterfall over a dam in front of the hotel keeps up a perpetual murmur. Dinas Bran, that venerable ruin, frowns down upon it from what would normally be " across the street " but is here on the other side of the river, and is fas- cinating and mysterious in its ghostly decay. Leland says: " The castell of Dinas Bran was never a bigge thing, but set all for strength as in a place half inaccessible for enemyes." To refer once more to that naive enthusiast on the subject of Wales, Thomas Churchyard : Merioneth and the Dee 293 " The towne is near the goodlye river Dee, That underneath a bridge of stone doth passe . . . And in the stream huge stones and rocks remaine, That backward it might the flood by force constraine." Llangollen bridge was built about 1346, prob- ably by Bishop Trevor of St. Asaph, who was also Chancellor of Chester. Looking up at the craggy remains of Dinas Bran (I have to make the unsportswomanlike admission that I visited the ruin only by means of binoculars!), I could easily fancy what it looked like when its lovely daughter, Myfanwy, lived there, and inspired the passion of the val- ley poet, Gutyen Owen. Any poet living in that valley at any period must perforce and almost automatically have fallen in love with any maiden living in that castle. The setting is irresistibly romantic. Behold a grey castle set on an almost inac- cessible hill, rising directly out of a valley which forms the bed of a beautiful river, the banks prolific with all kinds of suitable verdure, and sea-gulls disporting themselves like soar- ing white doves over the entire landscape. Sit on the opposite side of the stream and contem- plate this charming composition. The Welsh poet's harp must have had little rest as he sang: 294 The Spell of England " My song shall tell the world how bright Is she who robs my soul of rest; As fair her face, all smiles and light, As snow new-fallen on Aran's crest. " Ah, bid me sing, as weU I can, Nor scorn my melody as vain. Or, 'neath the walls of Dinas Bran Behold me perish in my pain." Liberal translations into indifferent verse, however, are not as convincing as a prose tran- scription. Again hear the love-sick poet ad- dress his lady Myfanwy : " In whatever part of the world I am, I lament my absence from the marble castle of Myfanwy. . . . The well-fed steed carried me pensive like Tristan, and great was his speed to reach the golden summit of Bran. ... I have rode hard, mounted on a fine high-bred steed, upon thy account, . . . the speed was with eagerness, and the strong long- hammed steed of Alban reached the summit of the highland of Bran." Certainly this verse of the poet carries the conviction of truth. There is great verisimilitude in this description of the effort necessary in climbing Dinas Bran! He bursts forth again : ' ' thou gentle maid of slen- der shape, who hinderest me to sleep by thy charms, I bring thy praises, bright maid, to thy neat palace at Dinas Bran." Dinas Bran was Merioneth and the Dee 295 a rough fortress until the fifteenth century, when it was destroyed, and became a ruin. Whether the expression " neat palace " would seem to have been appropriate at any period, is food for conjecture, but it is certainly a grim scrap of feudal relic now. Leland tells a curious tale in connection with Dinas Bran. Leland so seldom falls into anec- dote that one feels that this fact must have made a special impression on him : " In the rock-side that the castelle standeth on, breedeth every yeere an eagle. And the eagle doth sorely as- sault him that destroyeth his nest, going down in one basket and having another over his head to defend the sore stripe of the eagle." One would almost fancy that it would be worth whUe to let the eagle's nest alone! In the early days the Welsh bards were among the most important institutions. In a sense, the bards were the daily press, and the historians of battle, — they were indispensable to herald the doings of the great, and naturally met with every consideration and were taken good care of, whether for their own sakes or for what they were to accomplish. A bard of the twelfth century describes the methods of some of the warriors, and adds: " Their as- sault was like that of strong lions, and they 296 The Spell of England pierced their enemies like brave warriors ; they were lords of battle, and rushed foremost with their crimson lances. . . . Their shields were broke asunder with much force, as the high- sounding wind on the beach of the sea. ' ' Llewellyn the Great is celebrated by the bard Einion, who sounded the key note when he sang : " Obstinate was his resistance to the treacher- ous English," and spoke of Llewellyn " the generous, the maintainer of bards." " Lle- wellyn the magnanimous hero," he continufis, " whose armour glistened; the maintainer of his rights ... I have seen him furious in the conflict at Chester, where he doubly repaid his enemies the injuries he suffered from them." " In Aber Conwy the brave Llewellyn got his right," says another bard. " He contested with David ; ' ' and he confirms the statement of Einion as to the existence also of a delightful peaceful side to the character of the hero : ' ' Though in battle he killed with fury, though he burned with outrageous fire, yet he was a mild prince when the mead-horns were distributed, ... he gave generously under his warring ban- ners, to his numerous bards, gold and silver, which he regarded not, and Gascony prancing steeds, with rich trappings; and great scarlet cloaks, shining like the ruddy flame, ... he Merioneth and the Dee 297 bestoweth generously like brave Arthur, snow wMte steeds by hundreds. " It is interesting to come upon this authentic allusion to the na- tional scarlet cloak. In rejoicing he adds: " We the Bards of Britain, whom our Prince entertaineth on the first of January, shall every one of us, in our rank and station, enjoy mirth and jollity, and secure gold and silver for our reward. ' ' Of all the Welsh bards, the greatest was Taliesin. He was the chief bard of the early part of the sixth century. History or legend — perhaps we might call it legendary history — relates that Prince Elphin, while out salmon fishing, experienced bad luck, and caught no fish one day. While he was bewailing his fate, after the manner of spoiled children of every epoch, he and a fisherman espied a small coracle, in which was floating an aquatic waif, in the man- ner of a more recent Moses. They caught the slender craft, and Elphin carried the baby home to court, where it was his whim to have it educated. The infant developed into the fa- mous bard Taliesin, one of the most noted poets of Wales, and certainly the foremost of his cen- tury. In later years, Taliesin commemorated the occasion in a great poem in which he, in the 298 The Spell of England character of the new found babe, exhorted El- phin to trust to Providence, and consoled him for the fact that his fishing trip had been un- successful, so to speak. ' ' Fair Elphin, cease to weep, ' ' he says : ' ' Let no man be discontented with his fortune; to despair avails nothing. Though I am but little, yet I am endowed with great gifts. From the seas and mountains, and from the bottom of rivers, God sends wealth to the good and happy man. Elphin with the lovely qualities, thy behaviour is unmanly, thou ought- est not to be over pensive. To trust in God is better than to forebode evil. Though I am but small and slender on the beach of the foaming main, I shall do thee more good in the day of distress than three hundred salmons! . . . Though I am but weak, on my leathern couch, there dwelleth a gift on my tongue." In case the reader does not happen to be familiar with coracles, I might add that a coracle is a light boat, made of a frame-work covered with leather, for use in rivers, and can be easily car- ried on the back of a man. The earliest harps of the Welsh bards are reported to have been strung with hair. There is record of a poet who was proud to relate that his harp was of " glossy black hair," scorning what he called strings " from dead Merioneth and the Dee 299 sheep," with, which, apparently, inferior harp- ists had to be content. The town of Llangollen itself is rather mod- em and uninteresting, except for the old house, Plas Newydd, the home of the redoubted Ladies of Llangollen, of which one hears tales and finds souvenirs at every turn. The house is a charm- ing old beam and plaster affair, with panels of ornate carving all over its exterior; evidently these specimens were brought from every land. Breton beds and Spanish altars may be de- tected, adapted to the enrichment of this eccen- tric dwelling. The result is pleasing and hand- some. On the lawn is to be seen a sort of arti- ficial Carnac, a dolmen surrounded by men- hirs in a magic circle. The effect is somewhat bizarre. One can easily see that the " Ladies " must have had ' ' temperaments, ' ' and apprecia- tion, and one can understand how their home was a centre of the cultivated society of the Wales of that period. Lockhart describes them, waiting to receive Sir Walter Scott, " fussing and tottering about in an agony of expectation." Miss Ponsonby and Lady Eleanor Butler fled from their home in Ireland, and settled in Llan- gollen, where they lived together for half a cen- tury. There are rumours that disappointed 300 The Spell of England love drove them to this — or at least one of them — but nothing is certain except that here they came and here they remained. The de- scriptions of them are usually rather amusing. Matthews the Elder says that " in their well- starched neck-cloths, ' ' and their ' ' habits, which they always wear, even at a dinner party, ' ' they looked " exactly like two respectable super- annuated old clergymen. ' ' A more sympathetic mention is made by one who knew them person- ally when he was a boy ; he says : * ' These kind ladies brushed the coat and hat of the writer of these lines, after a fall from his horse . . . and they also filled his pockets with oranges on that occasion, stating that when they were school- boys they were fond of oranges themselves! " So it is evident that they had a humourous side. The same writer also tells how, early in the century, " Plas Newydd was invaded for the first time by cockroaches, causing the utmost dismay to the ladies, who attributed this unwel- come visitation to a baker's shop recently es- tablished on the opposite side of the river Dee, and were confident that they marched across the bridge like an army by night." This was the story as they told it to the boy — but probably not without a twinkle in the eye! Many poets and literary men visited the La- Merioneth and the Dee 301 dies, and Wordsworth wrote some verses to them; but he gave offence, because he alluded to their exotic establishment as " a low-roofed cot. ' ' They did not like the closing lines either : " Sisters in love, a love allowed to climb Even on earth, above the reach of time." This suggested such ambiguity as to their ages, — they said they could write better poetry than that themselves! They had an old servant, Mary Caryll, who had come from Ireland with them; when she died she left the sum of five hundred pounds to her mistresses; they playfully announced that they did not believe she could have possibly laid it all aside out of her wages — they de- cided that she must have made it by surrepti- tiously showing them off as curiosities! They were evidently good old " sports; " when Lady Eleanor Butler's eyes had to be operated on, she sat up in a chair, wearing her hat and all her decorations, and refused to lie down, or to use the blue shade which had been recommended. In 1879, long after Plas Newydd had passed into other hands. Dean Stanley visited it, and observed: " I have not been here since I was 302 The Spell of England ten years old, when I was taken, frightened to death, to see the ladies ! ' ' If Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Ponsonby were eccentric, both in dress and manners, they were far from being disagreeable people; in- deed, I fancy they were simply rather in ad- vance of their times in many ways. A good deal of their history may be learned from their epi- taphs in the churchyard at Llangollen. Their monument is a simple triangular shaft, with three separate inscriptions on its three sides — one to each of the Ladies, and one to Mary Caryll, the servant. This arrangement is cer- tainly democratic, and in every way does credit to the good hearts of the spinsters. The in- scriptions around the stone are as follows. The first: "In memory of Mary Caryll, deceased 22 Nov., 1809, this monument is erected by Eleanor Butler and Sarah Ponsonby, of Plas Newydd in this Parish. Patient, industrious, faithful, generous, kind, Her conduct left the proudest far behind; Her virtues dignified her humble birth. And raised her mind above this sordid earth. Attachment, (sacred bond of grateful breasts) Extinguished but with life, this tomb attests. Reared by two friends who will her loss bemoan, Till with her ashes, here shall rest their own." Merioneth and the Dee 303 No more touching tribute of devotion could be paid from mistress to maid. The pictures of Mary Caryll represent her as wearing the conventional Mother Goose clothes — paniers, high-heeled shoes with buckles, a round apron and short red petticoat, with a laced bodice above and a frilled cap. The epitaph of Lady Eleanor Charlotte But- ler comes next on the shaft — she died on the second of June, in 1829, ninety years of age. Mention is made that she was the daughter of the sixteenth sister of the seventeenth Earl of Ormonde and Ossery, " and aunt to the late and present Marquis of Ormonde." A list of her virtues follows, and the " brilliant vivacity of mind, amiable condescension and benevolence," play their part among them. Poor Miss Ponsonby was thus left alone for a time. Finally she died on the 9th of Decem- ber, 1831. The statement on the tombstone is as follows: " She did not long survive her beloved compan- ion, Lady Eleanor Butler, with whom she had lived in this valley for more than half a century of unin- terrupted friendship, ' but they shall no more re- turn to their house, neither shall their place know them any more.' Job. VII., 10." 304 The Spell of England A curious stone in the Llangollen church, yard bears the following inscription: " Our life is but a winter's day, Some only breakfast and away — Others to dinner stay, and are full fed, The oldest man but sups and goes to bed. Large is his debt who lingers out the day; Who gofes the soonest has the least to pay." One of the most romantic spots in the neigh- bourhood of Llangollen is Valle Crucis Abbey. " An Abbey near that mountain town there is, Whose walls yet stand, and steeple too likewise," sings Churchyard, referring to this delightful ruin. The architectural features are still quite recognizable, however, in spite of its fallen state. Here are three tombs of very special interest. Myfanwy, the heroine of Dinas Bran, lies here, and the very stone coffin, with the ac- tual hollow where her head rested, is shown. Also here is the coffin of lolo Goeh, the bard of Owen Glendower " the great, the good." There is a good deal of doubt, however, as to which is his stone; and, since there is a bard lying just beside that of Myfanwy, it is more gratifying to the sense of sentimental justice to believe that this is the grave of her poet •* a Merioneth and the Dee 305 lover. Another tomb shows a warrior behind his shield. The sculpture is sunk into the stone, instead of the figure being raised in relief. The walls of the abbey are still standing, and there is a very beautiful chapter house almost entire. It is quite a rambling ruin, with fasci- nating little accidental spots of picturesque value. In its palmy days the abbots are said to have dined off " four courses a day, on sil- ver dishes, and drinking claret." Henry VIII changed all that! On the little rose window is an inscription: " Abbot Adam did this work. May he rest in happy peace. Amen." In the Abbey close is an old spring, which still yields fine clear water. The " Friday " fish-pond, sedgy and pictur- esque, may still be seen at the back of the buildings. The view of the ruins from the opposite side, reflected in this pool, is very effective. Chirk Castle may be visited from Llangollen, and it has several historic associations of con- siderable interest. I myself have only seen it from the train, which affords simply a glimpse such as is recorded by Churchyard : " A castle fair appeared to sight of eye, Whose walls were great and towers both large and high." 306 The Spell of England This is hardly less curt than the mention of it by Dr. Johnson, in his " Diary of a Tour in Wales : " " We came to Chirk Castle." This is all that the learned doctor has to say upon the subject. Dr. Johnson did not like Leland's " Tour in Wales." He said " I looked in Le- land. An unpleasant book of mere hints." I don't know that Leland could be accused of. " mere hints " with any more justice than Dr. Johnson himself ! At the very mouth of the Dee lies Chester. The cathedral, a shade too red to be called strictly hoary, is rather an impressive struc- ture. One of the things which pleases Amer- icans in Chester Cathedral is to see those battle flags which went to Bunker Hill, and now hang in the south transept. As Henry James says : ' ' An American stroll- ing in the streets of Chester finds a perfect feast of crookedness." Then there are the " rows," a unique feature of this city. They are a set of little shopping streets " up one flight " so to speak — they are galleries run- ning through the first stories of the buildings, and, I am told, were originally planned with a view to being more easily protected in times of siege or riot than shops on the actual street level. James characterizes them as : " An ar- ITI.riT IX KKFECTOIiV, fHESTEH ( *A-1'II El) KAL. Merioneth and the Dee 307 chitectural idiosyncrasy ... a sort of Gothic edition of the blessed arcades of Italy — and consist, roughly speaking, of a. running public passage tunnelled through the second story of the houses." The shops in the rows are quite vip to date, if the construction is not, and one may buy many a charming souvenir of the visit to this interesting city. A walk around the walls should be taken with- out fail; many people spend only an hour or two in Chester, and that is a pity. You pass the little look-out tower from which Charles I watched the defeat of his army at Rowton; and you have an interesting opportunity to see the working of the locks on the canal. We stood for some time watching the great, thin, long boats rise and fall with the opening of the flood- gates ; the boats were snub-nosed, and looked like gigantic sabots. Recently another important attraction has been added to those already existing in Chester. They have reopened and restored the old Stan- ley Palace, which is furnished and renovated with much taste and zeal. This old house is mainly a beam and plaster structure. They show a tiny loft in which the Earl of Derby was concealed for many weeks. The little custodian was extremely pretty in her Tudor dress, a sad 308 The Spell of England rose-coloured brocade three hundred years old. She betrayed marked modern suffragette ten- dencies, however. When she told us that the earl was finally betrayed by his servant, she added — "It was a man servant. Not a woman, miud." And in exhibiting the working of an ancient man-trap, she remarked, " I wouldn't have used such a thing." In a " History of the City of Chester " there is the following mention of the palace : " A lit- tle lower down on the opposite side there is an ancient building now occupied as cottages but which in its early days was a mansion of nota- ble repute. Its erection bears the date of 1591. Its antiquity cannot be discovered from the street; the front being built with more modern brickwork; but on entering a narrow court a few paces below Nicholas Street, the sides of the venerable edifice rise into full view. ... I believe it was formerly the city residence of the Derby family, which is the more probable, on account of its contiguity to the Watergate, of which the Earl of Derby had the custody." A subterranean passage once made connec- tion between the Stanley Palace and the castle, also leading to the Watergate, and the trap- door which led to this is still shown in the en- trance hall. The seventh Earl of Derby, about Merioneth and the Dee 309 whom centres most of the history connected with the house, was a loyal supporter of Charles I, and was subsequently beheaded at Bolton, in 1652, " for high treason against the Commonwealth of England, by his friendship and correspondence with Charles Stuart, 'the deposed monarch. ' ' He was first in hiding, and then, after his betrayal by his servant, held forcibly by his enemies in prison, in his own house. 'A. contemporary record states: " The Earl of Derby attempted to escape, and was let down by a rope from the leads of his chamber, but some, hearing a noise, made after him, and he was re-taken on the Dee banks." And later, in the same Memoirs, occurs the item: " Let- ters of the particulars of the Earl of Derby's death, on the fifteenth, at Bolton, who carried himself with stoutness and with Christian-like temper." He left a -number of mottoes and precepts for the guidance of his sons, one of which is striking : ' ' The only service of God is not to be evil." If a trifle negative, this was a good motto for an impetuous youth in those days. St. John's Church in Chester, too, is a sight worth seeing. The approach to it is quaint — down " Little St. John's Street." This small church has magnificent Norman drum pillars. 310 The Spell of England Some Americans, seeing in Chester a car- riage of state, told us, ' ' We saw a big real old- fashioned coach, with a tapestry hanging on in front " (presumably this was a hammer- cloth). They asked a man if it was an adver- tisement ! Imagine the wounded feelings of the British subject so addressed as he answered, " That is the Justice's carriage." CHAPTER XIV IN EAST ANGLIA ^ONDON in July became suddenly un- bearably bot. We could do notbing, so we decided tbat, as we were wasting time anyway, we migbt as well waste it wbere it was cooler. So, baving already planned a little trip into East Anglia, we simply consulted tbe map to see wbicb available sea- side resort would be most in our line of travel. Tbe result was tbat we made a plunge, and landed at Clacton-on-Sea, wbicb is just wbat it sounds. Tbe town may be said to be laid out in sections devoted to first, second and tbird class — visitors, tourists, and trippers. Tak- ing our station deliberately among tbe first- class visitors, we put up at tbe Grand Hotel at Soutbcliffe. It proved to be a comfortable place in wbicb to kill time, altbougb, as tbe Little One said, " Time is too precious to kill." We travelled tbrougb a good deal of Con- stable's country, lovely soft meadows, glowing fields of ripe golden corn, bordered witb puffy 311 312 The Spell of England irregular trees with, fetlocks of foliage, — an ideal flat and restful country for a painter in one mood. And an enterprising bit withal: in a large verdant pasture full of contented kine one read on a sign-board, " This desirable brick-yard to let." Some of the towns in this district have jaunty names, — Jay Wick rather attracted me. It sounds light-hearted. Clacton rejoices in the reputation of being *' the Mentone of the Eastern Counties; " and, not content with one such high-flown claim, the local guide advises a visit to the Operetta House, which is said to be the " Aladdin's Pal- ace of the Essex Shore! " There is a well- appointed pier, with slot machines and other popular conceits ; the band plays day and night on the esplanade, with chairs to be hired. The seats where the acoustics are good cost two- pence, and the bad ones threepence, according to some British law of compensation not yet fathomed by Americans. Clacton is one of those places whose chief attraction is an excursion to another place. In this case the point of real interest is St. Osyth's Priory. St. Osyth was, on a small scale, a feminine counterpart of St. Denis, having been beheaded by the Danes in the sixth century, and having immediately picked up her head and In East Anglia 313 walked indignantly away! The fragments of her original priory are scanty, but on its site there had been a fine Augustinian monastery, which survived until Henry VIII " ordered it up," so to speak. The entrance gate has con- siderable majesty, and is a good example of the East Anglian " flush-work," a sort of rubble faced with small squared flints, and decorated with tracery and finials made of sandstone and laid on flush with the surface. The impression is somewhat similar to an elab- orate brick and beam structure imitated in stone. Over the door of this gate may be seen in the spandrels of the arch old carvings, St. George, on one side, being separated from the dragon, on the other side, by a central angel, — a new rendering to me of the legendary hero. One could hardly say too much of the excel- lent " vergeress " at the little parish church at St. Osyth. This good woman is not only thoroughly well informed upon everything which concerns her charge, but she has made a substantial contribution to the parish in the shape of nine sons and six daughters, eight of the boys, at intervals, having been " solo voices ' ' in the choir, while her husband is also a choir singer. She said she had seven grand- 314 The Spell of England children; she has not a grey hair in her head, and is a better illustration of perennial youth than the whole Metchnikoff System! She explained two small side openings into the chancel as being " squints " for those sit- ting in the transepts to view " the h'isting of the Host." Nothing could be more expressive. The chancel at St. Osyth's has a curious fea- ture. In the centre is a horseshoe-shaped en- closure, known as " the fold." This is sur- rounded by the chancel rail. The communicants go inside this fold, and kneel at the rail, while the celebrants stand on the outside; this is a curious and pretty idea of the shepherding of souls. Driving back through the Constable country, we saw a ploughed field with the furrows all filled with sea-gulls. Our driver explained that they always " follow the plough." Tou have no idea how strange it was — the chocolate brown earth, among the deep midsummer greens, and the white birds parading solemnly through the ruts hunting for worms! One day at Clacton a few large drops of rain fell and a little girl called out to her mother that it was raining. The lady replied: " Oh, those are just thunder-spots! " It is evidently a recognized term, and a defined type of the man- In East Anglia 315 ifestation of English weather, for no more drops fell, and it thundered in the distance. As soon as the weather permitted, we moved like Evelyn: " Hence to Ipswich; doubtless one of the sweetest, most pleasant, well-built towns in England." Evelyn liked Ipswich; he again alludes to it : " Ipswich ... in a word, 'tis for building, cleanness and good order, one of the best townes in England. Cardinal Wol- sey was a butcher's son of this towne, but there is little of that magnificent prelate 's foundation here, except a school and I think a library which I did not see." Defoe expresses it suc- cinctly, saying, " The famous Cardinal Wolsey was bom in this town, his father being a butcher in it." No sooner did we enter the town of Ipswich than we realized how completely Dickens had made the most of his opportunity. Not only is the " Great White Horse Hotel " still graced with the " statue " like an " insane cart- horse " which he describes; but the whole town is full of names which sound as if Dickens had invented them ! One has only to note them at random from the shop-signs as one drives up from the station. "We pass from Binks to Trot, from Stubbs the Stationer to Poppy the Milliner, and Sneezum the Chemist, William 316 The Spell of England Slack's Toffee-works may be visited, and Mor- ris Death " Undertakes jobbing in all its branches," which sounds very much lik^ a paid assassin ! Wines and spirits may be purchased from Dantsie and Co. We were so fortunate as to secure Dickens' "double bedded room," — the scene of Mr. Pickwick's encounter with the middle-aged lady in curl papers — and we passed one evening sitting there and reading the chapter aloud. It seems that Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton stayed at the White Horse in 1800. Ipswich's " Ancient House " is really a re- markable place. Ipswich is famous for quaint houses, and this one is the finest of all. The embossed plaster moulding on its upper story, known as " pargetting," has figures emblem- atical of Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. Of course the latter is represented by an Indian with bow and arrows. The house is now the home of a temperamental publishing-house and book-shop, and they have all the local tradi- tions for sale in attractive form. It is quite one of the most pleasing shops I have ever seen. There is a little chapel in the roof which is really only the upper part of the original room, which accounts for its very low raftered roof. At the time of the Eeformation it was consid- In East Anglia 317 ered prudent to close the little Roman Catholic oratory by placing a floor at the spring of the arches, thus ceiling the lower part, and making it into a sitting-room. The chapel above was not re-discovered for some generations. One of the most interesting historical charac- ters of Ipswich was Margaret Catchpole, an ad- venturous heroine of wild romance in a domes- tic setting, a combination of confidential maid, rough rider, and horse-thief thrown into one; — her story has been charmingly written by Rev. Richard Cobbold, and recently re-pub- lished at the Ancient House. This girl was a maid-servant living in the family of the au- thor 's mother, and was in all essentials of char- acter a pretty good girl, and yet, so arbitrary is fate, she was condemned to be hung for horse-stealing; she actually stole a horse, and rode* it from Ipswich to London in ten hours, dressed as a groom. But as one reads this af- fecting and " perfectly true story " one real- izes that poor Margaret was more sinned against than sinning, for her worthless soldier lover was really responsible for her evil deed; she would never have stolen a horse for herself. Her greatest error was loving not wisely but too well, if one may be forgiven for using such a quotation in the twentieth century. It seems 318 The Spell of England to fit the case and the period. I advise all read- ers to get the history of Margaret Catchpole and follow her on her daring ride, which was such a feat for a girl as was Paul Bevere's for a soldier, or that of John Gilpin for ' ' a citizen of renown." Margaret, from her earliest childhood, had always been a very fearless and skilful horsewoman, evidently intended for life on the Western plains in America. Her spirit was mislaid by some pre-natal oversight, and came to consciousness in a poor girl in a staid East Anglian village. What wonder that some- thing had to break? Mr. Cobbold says: " Gainsborough and Con- stable were lovers of the scenery around Ips- wich, and many are the sketches in possession of their Suffolk friends which speak their ad- miration for the beautiful landscapes which surround the river Orwell. Had these artists seen Margaret in her equestrian character, they would have immortalized her; for nothing could have been more appropriate to the spirit of their works. Margaret was as fearless as a Newmarket jockey, and never was known to have had a single fall. ' ' He goes on to say that the circus riders of a celebrated troupe probably " could not have sat a Suffolk cart-horse with the same composure." Now and then at the In £ast Anglia 319 races, when a rider failed to reach the highest point of excellence, some of the lads were heard to exclaim, " Margaret would beat him hol- low! " Rushing off for the doctor was a spe- cialty of Margaret's, as may be well under- stood, and indeed her unusual skill only once led her astray, and then, if her sentence had not been commuted to banishment, it would have cost her her life. Among the other publications is an interest- ing little history of the martyrdom of two , women who were burned in the open square in Ipswich for their opinions. In the Comhill there was originally a preaching cross, which stood until the sixteenth century, when a mar- ket cross was erected in its stead. This re- mained until 1812. On the nineteenth of Feb- ruary, 1556, two Protestant women were burned in Cornhill. A grim bit of early recording is the chamberlain's accounts of this disgraceful occasion: " Item: paid for a writ for the Exi- cusion of the two women who were burned, five shillings. Item, paid to four men for carrying wood and broome to the place of Exicusion, four-shillings and seven-pence. Item, for a stake at the said Exicusion, six shillings." Another attractive book of local interest is a romance about the Ancient House itself, called 320 The Spell of England " A King's Ransom," and telling a good story of Charles II, when he was in hiding under its roof after the battle of Worcester. Cardinal Wolsey, who was a native of Ips- wich, took pleasure himself in suppressing the Augustinian monastery and founding his own college on its site. In their turn, the Augustin- ians may be pardoned a chuckle when, upon the fall of Wolsey only five years after the col- lege was started, it also collapsed in its turn. The gateway alone remains. Of the many churches in Ipswich, several suf- fered greatly at the hands of the Puritans. In the journal of one of the leaders of the Icono- clasts, is an entry: " At Peter's " (you see he won't even say St. Peter!) " was on the porch the crown of thorns, the sponge, and the Trin- ity, in stone ... all which I ordered to break in pieces." A pleasant excursion from Ipswich is to Framlingham, with its remains of an old castle and charming church. We inadvertently se- lected the day of its annual horse and cattle show, as well as the date of the Commencement exercises at the boy's school, so the trains were rather crowded. In addition, a " treat " was taking place; hundreds of poor children from London were being conveyed in special cars for In East Anglia 321 an outing, yelling and almost spilling out of the train doors with glee. When they saw a horse-chestnut tree, they began shouting, "H 'apples! h'apples! " and wanted to pick and eat the fruit at once! So we saw much in addition to the castle, which is but a dispiriting ruin of brick and rub- ble, with a fungoid graft of twisted Elizabethan brick chimneys; the ruins are garnished, too, with notices calling attention to the fact that the walls have become dangerous, and that to go within was at the visitor's own risk. This was not inviting, but we risked it. The founder and architect of Framlingham Castle was probably Eedwold of East Anglia, who lived in 617; a warlike personage noted for being ' ' noble by birth though ignoble in his actions." Unfortunately for the antiquary the destruction of Framlingham Castle was quite deliberate; in the will of its owner, Sir E. Hitcham, he instructed the Masters and Fel- lows of Pembroke College as follows : ' ' Item, I devise that presently after my decease all the castle saving the stone building be pulled down, and the materials thereof coming to be con- verted into " — something else. The rest is immaterial. The funeral of its duke in 1524 is described 322 The Spell of England by Martin as being a most striking affair. He speaks of " the order and manner of decking and garnishing the castle of Framlingham when the noble prince died: next the chamber of state, the great chamber of the hall, the chapel and the choir, were hung with black cloth garnished with escutcheons of his arms, and in the midst of the choir was a place ordained with four great principals bearing certain lights, which burned day and night, and were made with bars about them, hung with black cloth, garnished with escutcheons of his arms, in which place the noble corpse was to lie until such a time as all things might be in readi- ness for his removal thence to the place where he was to rest." A practical item follows: ' ' The black cloths . . . were four hundred and forty yards." If one can visualize this sombre setting covered at intervals with heraldic dis- play, it certainly conjures up the fine Gothic pomp of the duke's obsequies. The funeral of the duke was further described as consisting of a long processional pageant, items of which are of quaint interest, as, for instance : ' ' three coaches of friars," and " the noble corpse in a chariot, wherein it lay garnished," and " gen- tlemen in black ... to the number of nine hundred. ' ' The poet, Bernard Barton, has thus In East Anglia 323 apostrophized what is left of Framlingham, ta- king the license of his order ia idealizing the remains : " Still upon moat and mere below Thine ivied towers look down, And far their giant shadows throw With feudal grandeur's frown." On the site now occupied by Framlingham Church was a much earlier structure, and in the Domesday records allusion is thus made to it: ' ' There is one church having six acres, and one villan, four bordars, and two ploughs, which is worth fifteen shillings." The romantic poet, Surrey, is buried in the church at Framlingham. The monuments in this church are exceptionally fine, — one has a row of kneeling sons all alike, in sepulchral coloured sculpture of the fifteenth century. The inscription on the most important of the Framlingham monuments, that of Sir Eobert Hitcham, reads: 1636 " The children not yet bom with gladness shall Thy pious actions unto memory call; And thou shalt live as long as there shalt be Either poor or any use of charity." Surely this involves almost an eternal recogni- tion of his virtues ! 324 The Spell of England Around the top of the church, at the gutter line, runs a low parapet of lead, with texts in pierced Gothic letters, curiously decorative and effective. It has also a very interesting little side door, set in the bulk of a buttress, original and strange. An epitaph written in a whimsical strain of legal burlesque is as follows : " Here lies the body of Thomas Wrongey, Gent., one of the attorneys of the King's bench at West- minster. According to the liberties and privileges of the same court, on the third day of April, his privilege notwithstanding, it was arrested by Death, and is here detained in the Prison of the Grave. From whence it shall not by any quirk be deliv- ered before the General Gaol Delivery, when Christ shall come to judge the whole world." This epitaph is to be seen in the churchyard at Beccles, a small town not far from Yarmouth. There have been many interesting literary men who have been born in, or associated with, East Anglia. George Crabbe came from Ips- wich; his verses are among the most fascina- ting " simple life " sketches in English litera- ture, and should be read among the cruder folk of Suffolk and Norfolk to be really enjoyed and appreciated. There have been few men who better understood British traits and conditions In East Anglia 325 than George Crabbe ; he has a strong sense of humour, and yet — who reads him? In a sense, he belonged to his period, of course; but it would be to the advantage of many a modern thinker to assist his sight through the specta- cles provided by the cleverness of Crabbe. His poem, " The Village," is indeed grue- some, and pessimistic; but perhaps a closer association with some of the villages such as he describes would make us believe his morbid es- timate of the degeneracy of small communities. He has a quaint touch, and a happy turn of expression, at any rate: " I grant indeed that fields and flocks have charms For him that grazes and for him that farms," he says. His verses are a natural reaction against the sentimental rural shepherd songs of the romantic period which he followed. He often makes me recall Browning's point of view in "Up at a Villa." " No, cast by fortune on a frowning coast Which neither groves nor happy valleys boast By such examples taught, I paint the cot As Truth will paint it, and as Bards wUl not." He is a realist, and like all realists, he sees a little too conspicuously the ugly in realism, not 326 The Spell of England recognizing sufficiently the beautiful, wMch. lias so long been over-sung. He rejoices in the description of funerals, and his pictures are certainly graphic! " Up yonder hill behold how sadly slow The bier moves, winding from the vale below; There lie the happy dead, from trouble free. And the glad Parish pays the frugal fee . . . Now to the church behold the mourners come, Sedately torpid, and devoutly dumb! " Crabbe enjoys cynicism, — his mind runs that way. Listen to him on the subject of the news- paper : " I sing of News, and all those vapid sheets The rattling hawker vends through gaping streets; ... To you all readers turn, and they can look Pleased on a paper, who abhor a book! " On the subject of " The Church " George Crabbe is amusing: It I What is a Church? ' Let truth and reason speak, They would reply, 'The faithful, pure, and meek.' ' What is a church? ' ' A flock,' our vicar cries, ' Whom Bishops govern, and whom priests advise.' ' What is a church? ' our honest sexton tells, ' 'Tis a tall building with a tower and bells! ' " He goes on in a most delightful strain — I wish I had space to quote Crabbe' as I should like to. In East Auglia 327 Many of the small villages of East Auglia are very poor. I was told on good authority that the average family income was about ten shillings a week. And sometimes the vicars do not understand how much their church might help in cheering these necessarily sordid lives. I was told of a vicar, not of this generation, who used to forbid his people even the slight and innocent joy of siaging in church! He claimed that it disturbed the choir, and he wishes his flock to listen, instead of taking part. Another discouraged their reading at home ; he said it unsettled them ; as if it were not the one hope for their poor cramped lives to be made to realize something outside their own blank existence ! Edward FitzGerald speaks of one of the towns in Norfolk as " a place elegantly called Bungay." Much of the coastwise part of East Anglia looks so much like Holland that one easily appreciates how Edward FitzGerald felt after a view of Holland itself. " I have at last done my Holland," he writes to a friend, " and you will not be surprised to hear that I did it in two days. . . . The country itself I had seen long before, in Dutch pictures, — and between Beccles and Norwich! " He speaks of having been in the garden in Lowestoft in which "Wes- 328 The Spell of England ley used to preach : ' ' The other day I was sit- ting in a garden at Lowestoft in which Wesley had preached his first sermon there; the wall he set his back against yet standing. About 1790 Crabbe the poet went to hear him ; he was helped into the pulpit by two deacons, and quoted : " ' By the women I am told, Poor Anacreon, ttiou growest old! ' " An afternoon is enough to devote to Yar- mouth. It is a curious place now. The masses parade the beach. As we sat on the shiugle it was borne in upon us that the British clerk wants a holiday, but he does not seek quiet. Far from it. Between the boom of the waves, the cries of seamen getting up sailing-parties, and phonographs turned into one's ear every minute, it was a question whether Yarmouth or London could make the most noise. How dif- ferent it was when Peggotty had his little house on the beach! Dickens describes Yarmouth in " David Copperfield," perhaps better than has ever been done by other writers. The town is laid out' like a gridiron, with tiny streets be- tween the wider ones. These are known as the " rows." Dickens says that some of the rows are so narrow that two stout people whom he In East Anglfa 329 had in mind could not possibly pass each other. There are said to be one hundred and fifty of these narrow passages. A little child might stand in the middle of some of them and touch the opposite walls with either hand. When Peggotty said that " for her part she was proud to call herself a Yarmouth bloater," she had in mind not only the fact that the na- tives of Great Yarmouth were called " bloat- ers " at that time (the whole region along this shore being often alluded to as Bloater opolis) ; but also the coat of arms of the town shows three bloaters on its shield. On the road to Yarmouth from Norwich we passed an interesting tower at Accles. It is round, with an octagon top, unique in effect. As one approaches the shore the railway runs by one of the famous Norfolk Broads. The Norfolk Broads are a series of little lakes, highly picturesque, " where the water-lilies rock on the little waves," as a writer has pret- tUy expressed it. I have somewhat lost desire to cruise on the Norfolk Broads after having seen a few. To Americans, with their many rivers and lakes available, the Broads do not make as strong an appeal as to the Englishmen who, as a rule, see only little ponds and streams. Along the shore of Yarmouth itself are many 330 The Spell of England boats and wharves ; advertisements meet one in quick succession, — excursions to ' ' Lowestoft and Return," and to " Caister and Eeturn," and so forth. Among these was a sign " Pert- wee and Back." Never having heard of Pert- wee, I glanced a second time at the prospectus, and was entertained to find that Pertwee and Back were a firm who made ice-crushers, not an excursion at all ! Swindon, a reliable authority of early date, announces : ' ' All the records of Yarmouth uni- versally agree that the place where Great Yar- mouth now standeth was originally a sand in the sea, and by degrees appeared above water and became dry land. ' ' This is a quaint way of describing a receding sea line by which the coast is increased. Edward FitzGerald found Yarmouth attract- ive in his day — there were no phonographs then! " Went to Yarmouth, and took a great fancy to it. The sands are very good, I assure you, and then, when one is weary of the sea, there is the good old town to fall back upon." Ever since the Charter of Henry III it has been customary for Yarmouth to send to the sheriff of Norwich, annually, twenty-four pasties of baked herrings, which the said sheriff has de- livered to the Lord of the Manor of East Carl- In East Anglia 331 ton, who in turn has presented them to the King. Norwich is a most attractive old town. It has an excellent inn, too, with a room in which Queen Elizabeth slept. Sleeping seems to have been Queen Elizabeth's strong point, just as hiding was a special talent with Charles I. He appears to have been concealed in most towns at some time, and Queen Elizabeth always " passed nights." The question of her having * ' passed days ' ' does not seem to have aroused nearly as much interest! The Maid's Head was long ago known as the Murtel Fish, whatever that aquatic novelty may be. It has been stated by some theorizers that the hotel gradually evolved its present name from the fact that a murtel fish was a kind of skate, and that skates, in Norfolk, were called colloquially, " old maids." But this seems rather a far cry. Of course the more natural and agreeable theory would be that it was named out of compliment to Queen Elizabeth, only unfortunately it had been already known by that name for a hundred years before her visit ! In the Paston Letters, in 1472, one finds a reference to this inn. John Paston writes to a relative in the neighbourhood, advising him of 332 The Spell of England the approach of a visitor, saying: " I praye you make him good cheere, and if it be that he tarrye, I must remember his costs; ... if he tarrye at Norwich therewhyles, it were best to set his horse at the Maid's Head, and I shall be content for their expenses." The old Pas- ton House stood in a narrow lane near the ca-. thedral, which has since been closed. During the days of Henry V this lane was complained of " because of the lying in waite of malefac- tors there in the night season." When Ket's rebellion took place in 1549, there was much fighting on Household Heath, just out of the town limits. At this time the Maid's Head was a famous rendezvous, being the headquarters of several leaders. It was also a centre for the Freemasons in the eighteenth century, and the Maid's Head Lodge has left several records in an old minute book. One rule reads: "No ridiculous trick shall be played with any person when he is ad- mitted." Another item proves that the meet- ings did not suffer for want of conviviality: " Every Master on his election shall treat ye Brethren with two bottles of wine, and ye War- dens with one bottle each, and on their second election the Master one bottle, and ye Wardens a bottle between them." In East Anglia 338 i ' " - . ' ' ' "" ■ ■ ■■ I I Another possibly more frivolous institution used to meet at the Maid's Head, called the Everlasting Club. This was so named on ac- count of its peculiarity in holding its sessions so late that no one was ever awake to see it break up. No member was allowed to go home as long as he was able to accomplish the test of ' ' riding the stone horse. ' ' This referred to his being placed astride on top of the wall of the church-yard. If he were so drunk that he could not maintain his position he was consid- ered qualified to retire ; but, if he were able to sit on the wall, he was taken back to the inn and plied with the necessary amount in addition to that already imbibed. The cathedral at Norwich is a splendid piece of Norman construction. I have seen few in- teriors that so delighted me. It has a good deal of the majesty of Caen, and indeed there is naturally a pronounced Norman flavour all through East Anglia. Norwich has numerous columns, some of them sturdy round drums, like a reduced edition of Durham. The verger told us of a visit from Queen Kapiolani of the Sandwich Islands, some twenty years ago. She stood at the door for some time before she would enter, saying in alarm, " Too many props! It will fall down! " The verger said 334 The Spell of England that was the first time he had heard Norman architecture criticized as being insecure! He told us also of a visit made by King George, while Prince of Wales, in company with the German Emperor. George was looMng up at some corbels, and saw the head of a Saxon, figured with long mustaches, twirled up at the ends. He called to the Kaiser, and, pointing to the fierce warrior in the carving, he ex- claimed, " Look at history repeating itself! " The head was quite like the Kaiser, who entered into the joke, and they had a good laugh. The cathedral suffered a good deal during the rebellion. In the choir and nave the very floors were broken up by the fury of the in- vaders, while monuments and windows received scant consideration. The mob got hold of the organ pipes, and blew ribald tunes on them, to add to the desecration. We are told that " many a lovely cluster of flowers and leaves, carved with consummate skill, centuries before, was battered into powder." The figures of Moses and the four Evangelists were torn down, and, together with several religious pic- tures, were burnt in the market-place. In the cathedral is a floor stone to Edward Stanley, father of Dean Stanley, who was for twelve years Bishop of Norwich. The inscrip- In East Anglia 335 tion, rather flowery, states that he was ' ' buried amidst the mourning of the Diocese which he had animated. ' ' The cheerful open square from which the cathedral close proceeds rejoices ia the now inappropriate name of Tombland. Its name was deserved on the occasion of a celebration when Alderman Anguish became mayor in 1611. There was to be a grand display of fire- works, but unfortunately they went off prema- turely, and the result was thirty-three funerals in the church-yard, and two hundred deaths in all. The quaint accotmt of this catastrophe al- ludes to the victims by name, and remarks that these persons ' ' were all slayne at the fireworks in Tombland, Mr. T. Anguish then entering his Mayoralty." A very paternal letter was re- ceived by the new mayor, the following day, from the Duke of Suffolk, in which he said, " I am very sorry, but seeing it proceeded from the will of God, you are to take it patiently, and to be contented with his pleasure," and then, in somewhat drastic words, adds, " Upon the like occasion of concourse of people, you will be careful to dvoid like danger." At either end of Tombland is a great gate, one the Erpingham Gate, and the other the Ethelbert Gate. There is a scene by the Er- 336 The Spell of England pingham Gate given in Miss Marshall's ro- mance, " In the East Country." A man pass- ing under the gate, remarks, " See those let- ters which are sculptured everywhere; they bid us think of the noble Sir Thomas Erping- ham. There he kneels aloft, as if in prayer, and everywhere the same letters ' Yenk. ' — ' Think on me,' the word means. And yonder are the arms of his sons, both named John, and still the same letters, 'Think' — 'Yenk.'" Sir Thomas was a warrior who fought at Agin- court. Daniel Defoe gives a description of the Nor- wich of his day. " If a stranger were only to ride through or view the city of Norwich on ordinary days, he would be induced to think it a town without inhabitants; but ... if he were to view the city either on a Sabbath day or on any public occasion, he would wonder where all the people could dwell, the multitude is so great. But the case is this. The inhabit- ants, being all busy at their manufactures, dwell in their garrets at their looms, and in their combing shops, as they call them, twisting mills, and other workhouses; almost all the works they are employed in being done in- doors." This is quite a picture of a real Eng- lish town of weavers, like a model Arts and In East Anglia 337 Crafts village! The manufacturer was pro- tected, eight Wardens of the Worsted Weavers being chosen each year to see that there was no fraud in spinning, weaving, or dyeing. Their seat in the Town Hall was inscribed ' ' Worsted Eeformers." Norwich Castle is a magnificent stronghold. One can understand how even a woman could hold it in a siege, as did the lady of Ralph de Guarder, in the days of the Conqueror. It had a well a hundred and twenty feet deep. They still show the dungeons and the ramparts, but the keep suffered from restoration and re- pointing — a necessary evil, from the artistic point of view, as it is used as a museum. Strangely pacific stuffed birds have been sub- stituted for warriors, — the only sporty touch is a stuffed chough, that red-beaked, large raven which disports itself on the Cornish coast, and is said to be a reincarnation of the soul of King Arthur. The castle is square, with small courses of high Norman arcading all over it. The famous old Norwich dragon, Snap, used to be carried in processions. He now reposes in the castle. In a glass case directly opposite where Snap is suspended from the beams, is exhibited a volume of the Apocalypse, illvmainated, in 338 The Spell of England which the " Beast " is figured exactly like the dragon. No doubt this picture served as a model for the manufacture of Snap! Wages in mediaeval times were astonishingly low. It is said that a stone-mason received three sous a day, and archers would stand all day shooting, or ready to shoot, by the loop- holes and machicolations of a fortress, for the equivalent of three English pennies. Ralph de Guarder was Earl of Norwich at the time just after the Norman Conquest. This town felt keenly that William the Conqueror was no king by right, and the Castle of Nor- wich was strongly fortified against any ad- vances from his troops. Ealph de Guarder and the Earl of Hereford " concerted together an open revolt," says the historian of the time. They condemned William as a murderous bas- tard unworthy to reign. Eoger of Wendover tells how this conspiracy came about. " Ealph married the sister of Earl Eoger, and it was at the celebration of the marriage that they planned the conspiracy . . . the friends of both parties assembled at Norwich, and after a sumptuous feast, being intoxicated with wine, they began unanimously and with loud voices to plot treachery against the king." With many arguments " the conspirators vented In East Anglia 339 their treason," and rumours of it reached the king. Whereupon William laid siege to Nor- wich Castle. Ralph de Guarder escaped by sea, chivalrously leaving his lady to carry on the siege. Terms were finally made, but the wife of de Guarder received the credit, which she certainly deserved, of having held the castle against the Conqueror for three months ! This was pretty good work for a woman. As Eoger de Wendover tells the story: " King William sent an army against Norwich, and there be- sieged the wife of Ealph with her family, until her provisions failing, she gave her promise on oath to depart from England never to return. ' ' This banishment caused Ealph and his lady to retire to his patrimonial estates in Brittany. It was not unusual for women to be capable fighters in early days. Even ia the field they often rendered active service. St. Adamnan saw a woman, on the field of battle, deliberately kill another woman by striking a reaping hook into her bosom, and then proceed to drag the body from the field by this weapon, which had conveniently become engaged in the victim's ribs! The abbot was so horrified that he sent a plea to the kings thereafter to exempt women from war duty. The cattle market in Norwich is well worth 340 The Spell of England seeing. It extends over twenty acres, and it is a most interesting sight when all its paved pens are full of live stock. It is well, also, on a mild day not to inspect it from the leeward side. Ever since the days of James I the cattle mar- ket has been held in this square. One is overcome by the amount of " thank- ing " that is showered upon one's head in Eng- land. You go into a shop — you do not find what you want, and you leave the shop amidst exclamations of " Thank you! " set in bows and curtseys. You refuse a dish at a hotel, and the waiter smiles, and observes " Thank you! " Everything you do, from asking the time to ordering dinner, or from buying tickets to dropping your purse and having some one pick it up for you, — always all acts are ac- companied by the same expression, " Thank you ! ' ' So, when we saw on a bus at Norwich, " Unthank Eoad," we immediately boarded it, and rode to the very end, just for the change, and to unwind our indebtedness. Norwich is fuller of churches than any other city of its size I have seen. It is possible to stand in a certain little open square, and to look about one and see distinctly six separate churches at once, and all very close by. The church of St. Peter Mancroft is the most interesting. It has STATUE OF SIR THOMAS DHOWXE, XOUWirH. In East Anglia 341 a well-proportioned tower, and many curious things to be seen inside, as well as good ancient communion silver in the treasury. The statue of Sir Thomas Browne stands outside. It is very artistic, and easy in pose. I have seen few " open air memorials " that I like as well. Poor Sir Thomas ! I hate to think of the fate of his own remains after all his Urn Burial disquisitions! While excavating, the authori- ties came upon his bones, and gleefully carried off his skull to a museum ! It was not fair play, reaUy. The description given by Emma Marshall is probably a good pen-portrait of Sir Thomas Browne. " His features were refined and regular, his mouth, shaded by a short mous- tache, was sweet and benevolent in its curves. He wore his hair in long curls, parted on the forehead, which was wide and open, the outline softened by a few stray locks. The eyebrows were delicately pencilled, and raised above the full eyelids, which gave to the face the expres- sion of inquiry, and searching after truth on all subjects. . . . The eyes were singularly beau- tiful, of that deep colour which varies in the different lights, and may appear hazel, liquid brown, or dark grey. A small pointed beard, which he stroked habitually while in deep 342 The Spell of England thought, gave a firmness of contour to the face, as did the setting of a wide linen collar, closely fastened above a vest, over which he generally wore a thick cloak or cape of cloth or velvet." Matthew Stevenson, in 1673, wrote a poem commemorating the visit of Charles II to Nor- wich, in which he thus alludes to the honour of knighthood then conferred on the scholarly physician : "... Norwich did what was fit, Of what with them was possible at least: (That city does enough that does its best!) There the king knighted the so famous Browne Whose worth and learning to the world are known." A little after this event, Evelyn writes : " My Lord Howard . . . would needs have me go with him to Norwich . . . this, as I could not refuse, I was not hard to be persuaded to, hav- ing a desire to see that famous scholar and physician. Dr. T. Browne, the author of Ee- ligio Medici and Vulgar Errors, now lately knighted." Sir Thomas' own allusion to the occasion is very modest ; he mentions the visit to Norwich of Charles II, adding, " of which I had particular reason to take notice ' ' ! One might collect a book of epigrams from the let- ters of Sir Thomas; such sayings as: " If ava- In East Anglia 343 rice be thy vice, yet make it not thy punish- ment," or, " Measure not thyself by the length of thy morning shadow, but by the extent of thy grave." This also gives food for thought: ' ' Persons lightly dipped, not grained in gener- ous honesty, are but pale in goodness and faint- hearted in sincerity." If any of my readers are not familiar with Sir Thomas Browne, I advise application to his well- stored mind. Household Heath is a large public park just outside the city, on a height, ' ' as East Country folk understand heights," as Miss Marshall says. In early times it was literally an open, wild heath and is associated in our minds with Crome's large canvas in the National Gallery — that historic picture which was once cut in two, and sold in different places, finally being rediscovered, and sewn together, and now known as Household Heath. This spot was a favourite of the painters of the Norwich school, Crome, Cotman, Gainsborough, and others. George Borrow, too, introduces scenes on Household Heath in his studies of gipsy life. Borrow was a delightfully whimsical Bohe- mian, sometimes a little heavy, but full of charm, describing the nomadic existence of these strange wayfarers. When Queen Elizabeth left the city it is re- S44 The Spell of England corded that she exclaimed, " I have laid up in my breast such good will as I shall never for- get Norwich." That is the way I felt myself as we started to move on to Bury St. Edmund. GRAVES OF THE ABBOTS, BURY ST. EDMUND. CHAPTEE XV THE SHEINE OF ST. EDMUND {HE trip to Bury St. Edmund by way of Thetford is an interesting one. The curious hexagonal tower with Norman features is clearly seen at Wymondham, near the scene of the celebrated tragedy of the Babes in the Wood, and one passes a delightful ivy-crowned ruin at Barn- ham. Bury itself is a charming town. The remains of the great abbey are quite numerous, and its Norman tower is a superb monument. There is not very much of the actual fabric remain- ing, but the tombs of five abbots lie in line just as they were discovered in what used to be the floor of the chapter house, but is now a green meadow with only a snag of crumbling wall here and there to indicate the former pomp. The curious illustration is a photograph taken at the time of the opening of these tombs, with the skeletons just as they were found. Of 345 346 The Spell of England course they are now sealed up with their orig- inal stone coverings. The skeleton of Abbot Samson is that of a tall man, and the skull proves that the head was high in brow and very broad. The bones of the Abbot Eichard de Insula lay in the third grave. This abbot died in France, in 1234, and his body was embalmed and taken home to his own monastery. It is a curious fact that this skeleton is coloured as if by some dark stain, and the skull has been cut open, evidently in order to introduce the pre- servative of the period, whatever that may have been. We are told by an ancient author that " The abbey was first built of wood by Sige- bert, king of the East Angles, soon after Christianity was planted here." Dickens calls London shabby in contrast with *' a bright little town like Bury St. Edmund." It is still that to-day, cheerful, and in most lo- calities very modern. But there are a few bits remaining in this town of charming old world remnants and wonderful memories. Here was martyred the boy king Edmund, who, at the age of fifteen, in 870, was bound to a tree by the Danes and shot to death, " his bodye being covered with arrowes like a porcupine with quills," as an early record tells us. Not con- tent with this, the Danes cut off his head, and The Shrine of St. Edmund 347 wantonly cast it into the thickest part of the forest so that it might be impossible to give the young king Christian burial. But see how nature even in a low form was better than the Danish victors ! The legend states — and you know what respect I have for legends — that, when the followers of Edmund were beating the woods and trying to find the missing head of their " king, martyr, and virgin," they be- came separated, and, in order to find one an- other, they called out " Where are you? " Each of them distinctly heard a voice reply " Here, here, here ! " So they all hastened to the same spot, and there they found a monumental wolf, sitting up like a sphinx, guarding between its paws the head of the king. This wolf, second in benignity only to that of Eomulus and Re- mus, reverently followed the procession back to the selected place of sepulture, and then beat a dignified retreat, wailing, back into the forest. From this moment miracles began to occur; the king was canonized promptly, and the great monastery grew up and flourished. The body received great care and was worshipped with much reverence. The remains, " the precious undefiled uncorrupted body of the most glori- ous king and martyr," were transferred to the final resting place in the great completed 348 The Spell of England church in 1095, and, after that, a seething his- tory of miracles, excitements, jealousies, and monastic autocracy followed for several cen- turies, until a great fire in 1465 began the work which the Dissolution completed. Many royal visits were recorded at the monastery, but from the time when Queen Elizabeth drove over from Long Melford in 1578, no crowned head had visited the historic shrine until King Edward and Queen Alexandra went there in 1904. In the middle ages there was a ditch around the monastery, a kind of moat fed by the river Linnet and the town sewer in pleasing combina- tion. A singularly disagreeable death must have been to drown in this ditch, a fate to which many persons are said to have suc- cumbed. In 1439 it became swollen, and flooded the nave of the abbey some feet deep. It was not filled in until the eighteenth century! The interesting abbey gateway stands in per- fect condition. There is a gallery above the portal, and the gate is a curious example of a peaceful entrance to a cloistered retreat, com- bined with a fortress. Behind the statues on its front were concealed loop-holes for archers, and the inner gate was a powerful iron clad structure, betokening prudence and piety in ex- pedient juxtaposition. The Shrine of St. Edmund 349 Yates speaks in flowery terms of the view which must have been seen from this gate- house. ' ' In the foreground, ' ' he says, * ' would appear the court and palace of the abbot, with the magnificent and peaceful abodes of religion ; then the beautiful gardens and vineyard, be- tween which the Lark and the Linnet, winding in highly decorated banks through a fertUe val- ley, unite their waters under the picturesque bridge at the extremity of the monastery. ' ' Edward the Confessor granted a mint to Bury St. Edmund in 1065. The mint seems to have ceased to exist about 1326, no coins later than that date having survived. Mints were established in a majority of monasteries in England, and one of the perquisites of the abbot was to coin money. The Saxon tower, the most beautiful of all the remaining buildings in Bury, was erected in the eleventh century by Abbot Anselm. It served as the entrance to the cemetery. Early authors allude to it as " the great gate of the churchyard." In this churchyard is a monu- ment to seventeen Protestants who were mar- tyred at Bury under Bloody Mary. The church of St. Mary, with its interesting wagon vault and its enormous west window, occupies the site of the original church built in 673. King 350 The Spell of England Edward was crowned in this early building, lie being then only fifteen, in 856. This church survived until 1107, when it was incorporated into the larger monastic church. In 1424 it was entirely rebuilt, substantially as we now see it. Among epitaphs in St. Mary's Church is one to John Baret, in which these lines occur : " From earth I came, and unto earth I am brought This is my nature, for of earth I was wrought; This earth to earth together now is knet, So endeth each creature Qd John Baret." Another is on a wall tablet to a printer, Peter Gedge, " who first established the newspaper in this town." He died in 1818. The epitaph follows : ' ' Like a worn out type he is returned to the founder in hope of being recast in a better and more perfect mould. ' ' Mary Tudor, the daughter of Henry VII, and widow of Louis XII of France, also lies in St. Mary's Church, her remains having been transferred from the abbey at the time of the Dissolution. In St. Mary's Churchyard there is a curious stone on which is stated: " Here lies interred the body of Mary Haselton, a young maiden of this town, born of Eoman Catholick parents, and virtuously brought up, who, being in the act of prayer repeating her vespers, was in- The Shrine of St. Edmund 351 stantaneously killed by a flash of lightning, August 16th, 1785, aged nine years." A blacksmith's tombstone is inscribed as follows : " My sledge and hammer lie reclined My bellows, too, have lost their wind, My fire's extinct, my forge decayed, And in the dust my vice is laid. My coals are spent, my iron's gone. My nails are drove, my work is done." Miracle plays used to be given in this church- yard until the twelfth century, when Abbot Samson put an end to this custom. In this yard, too, was a curious spot known as the " pardoned grave." In this place were laid, as a sort of reward of merit, persons who dur- ing their lives had achieved the distinction of paying for their entire pardon in Purgatory! Such zeal was naturally encouraged by those whose duty it was to dispense the funds so ac- quired. On the buttress at St. James' Church is a sun-dial with the pertinent motto " Go about your business." A benefactor at St. James' seems to have been Edward Darbie, who, according to his epitaph, " maintained a public catechizing 352 The Spell of England every fortnight ... of sixty-five poore people, to each of which he allowed a twopenny loaf of bread . . . each time of their catechizing for their further encouragement." Perhaps the most notable figure in connec- tion with Bury St. Edmund was Abbot Samson, a great personality who found a most accept- able Boswell in the monk Jocelin of Brake- londe, in 1211. Every one who visits Bury should read the account of this striking and dominant character in this fascinating Chron- icle, which has been reissued in late years. It is with a distinct thrill that, on one of the five tombstones that lie out in isolation in the ground, one sees an inscription, " Hie Jacet Samson Abbas, MCLXXXII . MCCXI." Ex- tracts from the Chronicle of Jocelin de Brake- londe will help us to visualize Abbot Samson. In 1173, Jocelin says : " In those days, Abbot Hugh grew old, and his eyes were dim. He was a good and kindly man, a God fearing and pious monk, but in temporal matters he was un- skilful and improvident." This little note of polite dissatisfaction shows that the monks meant to have a man of greater executive abil- ity for his successor; and they got him. In fact the term " improvident " is a mild one eonsideriag the practices of Abbot Hugh, whose The Shrine of St. Edmun d 353 " sole resource and means of relief was bor- rowing money; " and Jocelin tells how lie has seen bonds to one Jew for four hundred pounds, and to another for eight hundred, so that the monastery owed large debts through the fool- ishness of Abbot Hugh. This abbot met his death on a trip to Becket's shrine, where he had a fall, in which ' ' his knee-pan was put out and lodged in the ham of his leg." Blood poi- soning set in, and " in the fourth fit he died," as Jocelin ingenuously expresses it. The election of a new abbot always was a hot campaign. One party wished to elect the pres- ent prior, and the other party desired Samson. Finally a majority turned in favour of the lat- ter, and the king agreed to Samson's election. " Therefore he was elected, and fell at the king's feet and embraced them. Then he arose quickly, and hastened to the altar, with his head erect, without changing his expression, chant- ing the * Misere mei, Deus ' with the brothers. And when the king saw this he said to those that stood by, ' By the eyes of God, this elect thinks that he is worthy to rule the abbey! ' " And he proved himself amply competent to cope with the situation as he found it. An early instance of his reforms is this: " The abbot ordered that the houses of the 354 The Spell of England sacristan in the grave-yard should be utterly destroyed, as if they were unworthy to stand above ground. And for this the cause was the frequent drinking bouts and certain things which cannot be mentioned, which he had seen when he was sub-sacristan with sorrow and pain. So he caused all the buildings to be lev- elled with the ground, and in a year, where there had stood a noble building, we saw beans growing, and where casks of wine had stood, we saw nettles in abundance." When he be- came abbot several distinguished people began to claim relationship with Abbot Samson, but he would have none of them, saying that he preferred to recognize those who had discov- ered their relationship while he was a poor monk ! At the siege of Windsor Abbot Samson bore arms, and had his own standard. He stood in no fear of Earl John, and firmly excommuni- cated all who opposed him, so that he held quite a sway on the battle-field! On this occa- sion, Jocelin admits, " he gained a reputation rather for skill in the council than for virtue." It was also said of him that he was over-shrewd for a churchman, that he " spared his own money, and allowed his corn to lie in his barns tmtil such a time as the price should be high." The Shrine of St. Edmund 355 Perhaps he was only somewhat in advance of his times? Another canny step was arranging with the king to have the Jews expelled from Bury. This is an admirable way to dispose of credit- ors. In short, there is every evidence of busi- ness ability, and a perusal of his life would be entertaining to financiers if they only realized it! Jocelin gives a thrilling account of a fire which broke out near the shrine, and of Abbot Samson's behaviour at that time. " In the year one thousand one hundred and ninety- eight, the glorious martyr Edmund willed to terrify our monastery, and to teach us that his body should be more reverently and carefully guarded. There was a certain wooden floor between the shrine and the high altar, on which were two candles, which the guardians of the shrine used to relight. And they were wont to put one candle on another, and to stick them together carelessly." These candles are sup- posed to have fallen, and to have started a fire in the immediate vicinity of the shrine. The master of the vestry discovered it in the night ; " then he ran at once, and sounding the gong, as if for a dead man, he cried with a loud voice and said that the shrine was on fire." They 356 The Spell of England extinguished the fire, but considerable damage had been done to parts of the shrine. " Yet the golden image of the saint at the front of the shrine remained firm and unharmed, and the image was more beautiful after the fire than it had been before, because it was of pure gold."' They also had the shrine quickly- mended, " that the scandal might be avoided, and we caused the sign of the fire to be covered up with wax or in some other way. ' ' After this warning, the body of the martyr was again transferred to a still safer place. When King John visited St. Edmund's shrine his behaviour was such that the brethren were evidently disappointed. The monastery had been used to rather more demonstrative guests. One can readily comprehend that, after seeing King John, they had no objection to the meeting in their church of the Barons prior to the signing of Magna Charta. Jocelin thus expresses his displeasure at the lack of generosity in the king. " We thought that he would have made some great offering, but he offered a silken cloth, which his servants bor- rowed from the sacristan, and have not yet paid for! He enjoyed the hospitality of St. Edmund, which involved great expense, and when he left he gave nothing at all honourable The Shrine of St. Edmund 357 or beneficial to the saint except thirteen pence sterling, which he paid for a mass for himself on the day on which he departed from us." Shortly after this occurred the celebrated meet- ing of the Barons, chronicled on a pier which is still standing among the ruins. The inscription reads thus on the tablet: " Near this spot on the twentieth day of November, a. d. 1215, Car- dinal Langton and the Barons swore at St. Ed- mund's altar that they would obtain from King John the ratification of Magna Charta." And we all know that their determination was car- ried out. While John was in a state of inde- cision about agreeing to justice, at the demands of his subjects, these Barons 'made a special pilgrimage to the shrine on St. Edmund's day, and, laying their hands on the altar, solemnly swore, one by one, that if their requests were not granted, they would make war on the king. The shrine of St. Edmund was behind the high altar. At the time when this monastery was subjected to the depleting process of the Dissolution, the Commissioners made an inter- esting record of the various relics which they had discovered. Their account is significant: " The coals that St. Lawrence was toasted withal; the parings of St. Edmund's nayles; St. Thomas of Canterbury's pen-knife and his 358 The Spell of England boots(!); divers skulls for the head ache; pieces of the holy cross able to make a whole cross," and other details of " superstitious usages." Curiosity as to the authenticity of relics was a dangerous indulgence, however. We are told of one Leoftanus who announced scepticism as to the existence of the body of St. Edmund, " arrogantly ordering the tomb to be opened," and it is related that " he saw the body of the Saint uncorrupted, but, being im- mediately seized by a demon, he miserably ex- pired. ' ' The story of the blaspheming Bishop of Hulm is so naively told by Archdeacon Her- man, who was an eye-witness of the event re- corded, that we must read it in his own words : " The bishop riding one day and conversing on the injuries which he meditated against the Bury St. Edmund monastery was struck upon the eye by the branch of a tree, and a violent and painful suffusion of blood occasioned im- mediate blindness. St. Edmund thus avenged himself, and punished the invaders of his rights. ..." He remained blind for a long time, and finally took the advice of his arch- bishop, who told him to go to Bury and see if the saint's forgiveness could be procured by an apology in person! " The feeble bishop The Shrine of St. Edmund 359 came to the monastery, being graciously re- ceived by the Abbot, . . . they proceeded into the church, where in the presence of the elder Brethren, and certain Peers, the Bishop de- clared the cause of his misfortune, recited the injuries he had conceived against this holy place, confessing himself culpable ; he then ad- vanced with sighs and tears to the foot of the altar, placed on it his pastoral staff, prostrated himself before God and St. Edmund, performed his devotions, and received absolution from the Abbot and his brethren. Then, having made trial of the Abbot's medicine, and as I saw, by the application of cauteries coUiriums assisted by the prayers of the brethren, in a short time he returned perfectly healed ; only a small ob- scurity remained in the pupil of one eye as a memorial of his audacity." This reads very like a case of one cured by prayer after having tried all form of medical aid — one never knows how much the treatment had to do with the cure, when the credit is all given to the faith! Dickens has laid certain scenes in Bury ; the immortal Pickwick stopped a boarding-school elopement in this " handsome little town of thriving and cleanly appearance." Pickwick stayed at the Angel Hotel, without doubt, for 360 The SpeU of England he speaks of the coach rattling over the well paved streets and stopping " before a large Inn situated in a wide open street nearly facing the old Abbey. ' ' On Angel Hill there has been an Inn of that same name ever since 1452, al- though the present house was not built until 1779. One should still stay at the Angel in Bury. An ancient author tells us that " the sun shines not upon a town more agreeable in its situation," with which I firmly agree. Defoe adds : ' ' Such as is the town for situation, is the neighbourhood and gentry about it for po- liteness, and no place glories in handsomer ladies or better families." There are many modern improvements in Bury, and it is a thriving manufacturing cen- tre; one of its products bears the formidably British appellation: " Eobert Boby's Patent Self-cleaning Com Screening and Dressing Machine." I presume this is also " Limited." as most things are in the British Isles. The home of Lydgate, the poet, is still pointed out among the houses near the abbey ruins. A very interesting small museum is to be seen at Bury, in an ancient building known as Moyses Hall. This is of about the propor- tions of a good sized private house, and is also The Shrine of St. Edmund 361 known as the Jew's House. It dates from the eleventh century, and is of stone. No doubt some of the abbey creditors who were so in- geniously disposed of by Abbot Samson may have dealt in " moneys " over a counter in this very house with poor incompetent Abbot Hugh ! Dr. Margoliouth, in an article on the " Ves- tiges of the Historic Anglo-Hebrews," speaks of it as follows : ' ' Moyses Hall is a fair speci- men of synagogues built in East Anglia about the time of Henry I. It was known among its origiaal possessors as ' The Synagogue of Moses,' and was no doubt a Jewish place of worship. It corresponds in its architectural details with the oldest synagogue in Europe — that of Prague." He, in fact, pronounces it and its precincts as a " sort of Hebrew Abbey of Bury." The precincts are now the market place of the town. CHAPTER XVI CANTEEBTJBY IJHERE is no city in England more sat- isfactory to stay in than Canterbury. Since the landing of Augustine, in 597, it has witnessed many strange scenes, especially in connection with its eccle- siastical life. The landing of Augustine took place on the shores of the little island of Thanet, where the band of monks hailed with joy the end of their journey. Augustine must have made a picturesque leader of the com- pany, as described by Capgrave, " tall of stat- ure, of a dark complexion, his face beautiful, but withal majestical." We can imagine him leading the little procession from the monas- tery in Rome, and tramping away to Ostia, where they were to set sail for Marseilles. Pro- ceeding thence through France, they finally sailed for Britain from Boulogne, then known as G«ssoriacum. At Ebbes' Fleet they landed, resting there while a messenger was sent to the 362 Canterbury 363 Kentish king, Ethelbert, to acquaint him of their arrival. On the rock on which the foot of Augustine was supposed to have been first planted a mar- vellous impression is said to have remained. Pilgrimages were afterwards made to the spot, " in gratitude to the living God for having led thither the Apostle of England." An answer came from Ethelbert appointing a time and place for their meeting shortly. Ethelbert 's queen, Bertha, was already a Chris- tian, and services were held in St. Martin's by a French priest at the time of Augustine's ar- rival. St. Martin of Tours was the saint se- lected as the patron of the tiny chapel, possi- bly on account of this French influence. He was one of the most famous martyrs, and his relics had always worked notable miracles. He was a great favourite among the early English — there are many St. Martin's Churches in England, and always have been. One of the stories connected with St. Mar- tin's relics is as follows. When the body of St. Martin had been stolen, and was carried from place to place, it is recorded to have worked unexpected miracles at every station. While at Auxerre it seems to have been espe- cially inspired with curative abilities. The 364 The Spell of England people of the town contradicted this ; they said that the miracles of healing had nothing to do with the presence of the body of St. Martin, but that their own patron saint, St. Germain, had worked these wonders. Finally they con- sented to a test, and the relics of the two saints were solemnly set out side by side in the church, and between them was placed a paralytic man. Strange to say, the paralytic recovered on one side of his body — that which was turned , towards St. Martin! The people of Auxerre, however, remained unconvinced. ' ' Our saint, ' ' said they, " was always especially courteous to visitors. He has allowed St. Martin to receive the credit of his cure, through sheer politeness. He is a model host, and his fame will spread the farther on account of this act of considera- tion! " When such interesting cures were taking place, it was natural to think that every one who was cured rejoiced at the miracle of heal- ing. But there is another side to the picture. Two cripples are described as having shown much indignation at finding themselves cured of their lameness. They complained that their recovery had taken away their means of sup- port, since they were professional beggars, who had relied on their infirmities to assist them in Canterbury 365 collecting alms; and they wanted to do the mediaeval equivalent for sueing the relics ! At their arrival, St. Augustine and his train must have seen two churches, the first, a Chris- tian church, St. Martin's, and the second, " a temple or idol house midway between St. Mar- tin's and the city walls, where King Ethelbert and his nobles used to worship according to their national rites." Ethelbert came to Thanet to interview Au- gustine, and there, under a great oak, the king of Kent, with his court, was met by the ambas- sador of the faith, with his followers in pro- cession carrying a cross, and singing a litany for the salvation and conversion of Britain. The king was convinced of their good inten- tion, and invited them to come and begin their work iQ Canterbury, which city they entered in triumphant procession, singing, " We beseech Thee, O Lord, in all thy mercy, that thy anger and wrath be turned away from this city, and from thy holy house because we have sinned. HaHelujah! " So began the work of Augustine in Canter- bury. He purified from its pollutions the tem- ple or idol house of Ethelbert, broke its heathen images, and converted it into a church, and this was the first chapel in which Angus- 366 The Spell of England tine ministered. The foundations of the build- ing still remain, and against the wall there is a mass of stone which was evidently the early altar. This is probably the very spot where the idol had stood. Augustine celebrated at this altar in 598, and Thorn, in 1397, tells us that in the east wall of the chapel there were still marks of the claws of the devil, who made a great effort, when he saw Christian services going on in the building from which he had been ejected, to wreck the chapel. His only success seems to have been to leave the marks of his violence on the outer wall! Bede tells of the life of the monks in the early period. ' ' They began to imitate the course of life practised in the primitive church, applying themselves to frequent prayer and watching and fasting, preaching the word of life to as many as they could, despising all worldly things as not belonging to them, receiving only their necessary food from those they taught, living themselves in all respects conformably to what they prescribed to others, and being always disposed to suffer any adversity and even to die for the truth they preached." They had brought with them a few books; one of these, the " Canterbury Book," is now in the Library of Trinity Hall, Cambridge. Canterbury 367 Augustine was consecrated in November, go- ing for that purpose to Aries, and at the Christmas season of the same year, we are told, ten thousand persons were baptized in the Swale at the mouth of the Medway. Certainly a more thriving work could not be demanded by the most exacting evangelist. In time the Mng himself was converted, and on Whitsun- day, 597, his baptism was solemnized, probably in the church of St. Martin, and in the very font shown there to-day. There is a tradition that Queen Bertha was afterwards buried in the same church, but this is much disputed. On a print, hanging in the vestry of the church, this verse is appended: " A humble church recalls the scenes of yore, To present memory, yet humbled more By lack of years, by lack of reverent care, And ill-advised expedients for repair. Oh, would this age its taste and bounty blend The faults of by-gone ages to amend, And liberally adorn this lowly pile, Where sleeps the first Queen Christian of our isle." Perhaps it is as well that this " liberal adorn- ment ' ' has been withheld, and that we have as much of the simple original structure as even the meagre parts which remain! The " taste 368 The Spell of England and bounty " of the Victorian period are not often improvements. The church of St. Martin was granted by the king to " his faithful friend, Wighelm, priest," with the provisional curse appended for any who should alter it, " stirred up by diabolical rashness," saying, " may his por- tion be diminished from the land of the living, and may he stand guilty before the judgment seat, a sharer in the condemnation of those who sold and crucified the Son of God." So tender hearted were the early Christians towards those who differed from them! The first Christian king in Britain gave Augustine an ancient Eoman temple for wor- ship; and this, called Christ Church, was the nucleus, though many times rebuilt and re- stored, of that noble and most interesting Eng- lish monument, Canterbury Cathedral. The first structure was built with an apse at either end, the main entrance being at the south side, and in this building, seated on a marble throne, Augustine conducted the services, sur- rounded by his brethren in their brown habits, with the costly robes of the king and courtiers in picturesque contrast. The marble throne now shown in the cathedral is probably of later date. Canterbury 369 Augustine was far from satisfied with the conversion of Kent alone. His aim was to pre- vail upon the entire British Church to acknowl- edge the supremacy of the Pope of Rome, The Britons were somewhat reluctant, for they de- rived their rites and ceremonies from the East, and already regarded the Bishop of Caerleon- on-Usk as their spiritual head. They applied for advice in this matter to an oracle, who told them, with the ambiguity characteristic of such autocratic individuals, that they would do well to obey Augustine " if he were a man of God." In reply to their natural question, " How are we to know whether he be a man of God? " the oracle said that, as Christ came to preach hu- mility and meekness, it would be proof of Au- gustine's worthiness if he were humble before them. If he were haughty or stern, they need not regard his wishes. At a synod which fol- lowed, Augustine, not realizing the enormous significance which would be attributed to his smallest action, failed to rise from his seat to greet the British members of the Council ; they therefore interpreted this oversight to mean that he was haughty, and decided to withhold their allegiance. At their refusal to respect his wishes, Augustine unfortunately rose in wrath, and threatened them that he would force 370 The Spell of England them into subjection, thereby proving that their judgment of him was not entirely without foundation, I fear! St. Augustine's monastery was built near St. Martin's, but he himself only lived to see the foundations laid, for he died in 605, having consecrated his own immediate successor dur- ing his lifetime. He was interred, as he had made request, on the road leading from Eich- borough to Canterbury, over the hill of St. Martin. Bede speaks thus of the burial of Augustine. " Now Father Augustine, the be- loved of God, died, and his body was laid to rest close to the above mentioned church, but outside, for the church was not yet finished or dedicated." The body was removed later, and laid under the high altar of his monastery, which continued building long after his decease. In the days of Prior John de Marisco, in 1220, the relics were exhumed, and the head was re- tained, and placed outside the shrine, wonder- fully decorated in a reliquary of gold, silver, and jewels. Somner, writing in 1639, speaks of the bodies of saintly men who are buried in this abbey, saying " some gloriously inshrined and others honourably intombed there, have ' enfamoused ' the place." The abbey was a flourishing monastery for some centuries. Canterbury 371 There is a legend that during the Danish in- vasion, a Dane having taken hold of the pall which covered St. Augustine's tomb (in his monastery) his fingers stuck to it, so that, until he yielded himself up to the monks, he could not get free. This occurrence, to which Som- ner makes allusion as " a miracle so mainly tending to the advancement of monkery," is not related by the earliest and most reliable authorities. Denys of Burgundy writes on monastic joys : " Great gate, little gate, so many steps, and then a gloomy cloister. ... all are slaves, and of what? of a peevish tinkling bell . . . tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, and you must sit to meat, with maybe no stomach for food . . . tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, and ye must to church; tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, and you must to bed, with your eyes open. Well, by then you have contrived to shut them, some uneasy imp of darkness has got to the bell rope, and — tinkle, tinkle, tinkle — it behooves you to say a prayer whether you know one or not. . . . well, you drop off again, and get about an eyeful of sleep ; lo ! it is tinkle, tinkle, tinkle for matins! " Certainly the arti- ficial restraints of the monastic system must have been distressing to temperaments with any initiative. 372 The Spell of England Here we may make a short digression and look at the subsequent fate of St. Augustine's monastery, with its stately tower of St. Ethel- bert. In the early nineteenth century, Hasted says, " So little veneration is now paid to this once sacred habitation, that the private apart- ments adjoining the gateway are converted into an ale house, the gateway itself into a brewery, the steam of which has defaced the beautiful paintings over it, the great courtyard into a bowling green, the chapel and the isle of the church into a fives-court, and the great room over the gateway into a cock-pit," and in 1841 it was used as a sort of general casino, known as the " Old Palace Gardens." A letter appeared in the English Churchman, in 1843, stating that " two pilgrims " had vis- ited Canterbury, and after seeing the cathe- dral . . . had proceeded to the abbey, where they expressed themselves ' ' disgusted and hor- rified at the scene of sordid revolting profanity and desecration which presented itself." Af- ter a description of revelries which were any- thing but hallowed, the letter continues: " Wearied and heart-stricken, they turned from the sickening spectacle, not, however, without a feeling of satisfaction on learning that God's righteous retribution was about to Canterbury 373 bring the property to the hammer." Whether this was as intentional on the part of Provi- dence as they thought, or no, to the hammer it came, and the nuisance was abated. The " Old Palace Gardens " were doubtless on the order of Vauxhall or Eanelagh, to which Defoe alludes as " grand seminaries of luxury." After its sale it was again converted into a brewery, but of later years it has fortunately been recovered and, with added buildings, been converted into a Missionary College, which is a very fitting climax to the original intention of the founder. Ethelbert's tower was partly pulled down, so that the stone might be used elsewhere; but it was so strongly cemented that the labour was found to be too expensive, and the work of demolition was discontinued until part of it gave way, and it was pronounced unsafe. It was then rased by means of a bat- tering-ram, and the stone used in repairs in the cathedral. The stones were as sound and square as when first cut, though nearly twelve hundred years had passed. Some stone coffins of monks were found, with skulls, hair, and bits of cloth remaining. The cathedral at Canterbury had a most eventful early history, and I cannot resist ta- king time to glance at a few of the chief vicissi- 374 The Spell of England tudes through which it passed during the early centuries. The ancient Eoman building which Ethelbert had given to Augustine was said to have been miraculously presierved from the weather, during the period of its roofing, through the prayers of Archbishop Odo. It was destined, however, to demolition at the time of the Danish invasion. Somner expresses it vigorously : " A fire kindled by that implacable and insatiable rout of Danish devilish furies " consumed it and the whole town. The cathe- dral was reconstructed, but evidently suc- cumbed again soon, for it was reported to have been " greatly ruinated " at the time of th§ accession of Lanfranc. Under this famous Lanfranc the structure was rebuilt, as Somner says, " after this newe French form; " in other words, whereas it had been formerly roofed with timber, the cathedral was now covered with a stone vaulted roof, supported on arches, and was the first and purest Gothic church in England. However, this was not the end of its troubles. It was surely " tried by fire," if ever a building was so : "in the yeare 1174 I read of yet another combustion of this sacred edifice," sighs Somner. One of the most conspicuous events in the history of Canterbury Cathedral is the murder Canterbury 375 of Archbishop Becket, in 1170, a scene too well known to need describing here, with its subse- quent circumstances of shrine-worship, mira- cles, and pilgrimages. Enormous numbers of persons travelled from far and near to be cured of their complaints at the martyr's tomb, and Canterbury crypt must have exhibited much the same appearance as the shores of the Pool of Bethesda at Passover time. Dugdale tells us that the valuables at the shrine filled two great chests, each of which re- quired eight men to carry it. One of the func- tions used to be to pass St. Thomas's skull about to be kissed, ever since the year 1303 ; but when the commissioners, in 1538, discovered the body in its tomb, with the head quite intact, the forgery was burned, and no more skulls were passed around. An attempt was made to induce Mme. ,de Montreuil to kiss the relic, and there is an amusing account of the episode. " The Prior opened St. Thomas's head, and sang to her three times ' This is St. Thomas's head, ' and offered her to kiss it, but she neither kneeled nor would kiss it, but still viewed the riches thereof." The lady must not be re- garded as simply refractory — she was not vis- iting the shrine as a pilgrim, but simply as a sight-seer ! 376 The Spell of England The Canterbury of the middle ages to which the crowds hastened, was a truly picturesque old city. We can follow Chaucer's pilgrims more intelligently if we glance first at a view of the town as described. There were many gar- dens, orchards, and open courts; the Dane John Mound, which had probably been a Danish camp, was the Common, or public recreation ground; many towers, especially on the gates, raised substantial heads to the sky, and the city was surrounded by walls, with a river flowing beyond. This river also ran through the city. One may follow the description to-day, and see the same general landmarks. Among the most notable pilgrims who en- tered the city was Henry II., when he came to perform penance at the shrine of Becket, for whose death he was largely responsible. After this, a constant procession wended its way at almost all timeSj " The holy blissful martyr for to seke, That them had holpen when that they were sicke." especially on the festivals of the saint, and the feast of the translation of his relics. On the eve of the martyrdom, a great feast was held. A pageant was the chief event on CANTEKBUKY CATilEDKAL. Canterbury 377 this day, and there are extant some records of the year 1504, which tell some of the expenses connected with this occasion; for instance, to Thomas Stark, carpenter, and his fellows, was paid three shillings and sixpence " for making the pageant, ' ' which feat they performed in the surprisingly short period of four days. Cer- tainly they were not exorbitant in their charges. " One hundred and eight foot of board " was purchased " for the flooring of the same pageant," and there is an item " Ale spent, one penny." Also: " To James Cole- man for hys horse hyre, fourpence. Item, to Gilbert, Paynter, for paynting the awbe and the hedde, sixpence. For linen for St. Thomas's garment, sixpence; for a dosen and a half of tynen silver, sixpence ; glue, earthen pott, and a paokthredde, three pence. Item, in coals to melt the glue, and a reward given to Johan a Tent for the hyre of a sword and the washing of an albe and a amy ss, total, ten pence. ' ' This is a new expression for paying laundry bills — to " reward " the laundry puts a more digni- fied premium on the act of washing clothes. No detail was omitted — " Item, for tallow for the wheels, a penny." In 1521 the pageant was repaired, and twelve pence was paid " for a quarter of lamb and bread and drink for the 378 The Spell of England knights and other that holpen to cai;ry the pa- geant after the watch. " " For the standing of the pageant in her barn this year " the prior- ess of St. Sepulchre was paid twenty pence! Fosbroke gives a description of the pUgrims as they appeared on their penitential progress to the healing shrine. ' ' I know well that when divers men and women will go thus after their own wiles, and finding out one pilgrimage, they will order with them biefore to have both men and women that can well sing wanton songs; and some other pilgrims will have with them bag-pipes, so that every towne they come thrue, what with the noyse of their piping, and with the sounds of their singing, and with the jan- gling of their Canterbury bells, and with the barkiuge of their dogges after them, they make more noyse than if the kinge came thereaway with all his clarions and many other men- strels! " It would certainly seem that a bad influence was at work to make possible the celebration which took place every year in many churches in England and on the Continent also, the Feast of Fools. On Innocent's Day, in Canter- bury, the monks elected a Bishop of Fools. For three days a sort of profane religious carnival was held, during which time the bishop thus Canterbury 379 elected occupied the marble throne of St. Au- gustine, and all the cathedral staff attended upon him. He was surrounded by minor can- ons, choristers, and others. As he entered the church the Te Deum was sung in solemn bur- lesque, and a lunch of wine and fruit was served in the sacred edifice. The bishop then began a comic rendering of the church service, into- ning and singing in an exaggerated manner. The congregation either applauded or hissed, according to their emotions, and according to whether the buffoonery was clever or stupid. Du Cange states that " the Feast of Fools was celebrated by various masquerades of women, lions, players, etc." They danced and sung in the choir, " ate fat cakes upon the horn of the altar," and ran and jumped about, and burned old shoes in the censers. The porter then preached the sermon, from the pulpit, and the benediction was pronounced by the Bishop of Fools, who immediately afterwards rushed out into the street, where a general frolic ensued. All this time he was arrayed in full vestments, and, during the three days which he officiated, he performed high mass, and played dice on the altar at that .time. He gave the benedic- tion to the crowd in the open square, from the windows of the episcopal palace. 380 The Spell of England It is evident, from the accounts of the en- thronizations of certain archbishops, that a luxurious and inconsequent way of life had ob- tained in ecclesiastical circles, and this is what the Bishop of Fools travestied. When Boni- face came to the chair in 1264, the feasting and drinking were so excessive that the guests were obliged to resort to blood-letting between meals, not to mention the usual reliefs such as accom- panied the Roman banquets. The Earl of Gloucester carried off, as souvenirs of the feast, " the bishoppe's silver cuppe and Scarlett robes, surrounded by his idle and roystering fellowes." On the second day they indulged in unlimited ' ' drinking below the bar. ' ' Among what Somner calls " the many so- lemnities and celebrious assemblies," held in the great hall of the episcopal palace, was the enthronization of Archbishop Warham, in 1504, on which occasion the bill of fare was of most generous proportion, including lings, congers, carp in " sharp sauce," roasted oranges, " tarte Lumbarde," " custard planted," sal- mon in aloes, fritter columbine, cumfettes, and a " fritter dolphin," which does not suggest a very delicate dish ! As a centrepiece, there was a " subtletie " in three stages, one above the other, " with vanes and towers embattled," Canterbury 381 with figures of the Virgin and the king pre- senting the Master of the EoUs to St. Paul! and on another stage of this interesting erec- tion was displayed " a quire of men in sur- plesses, and doctors in their grey amysses at a desk, with a booke written and noted with the ofl&ce of the mass borne up, and well garnished with angels. ' ' The prelate took the ' ' surnap ' ' which was brought " with courtesy," and washed his hands, pronouncing a blessing. He stood on his feet for this ceremony — let us hope, steadily! The records of expenses men- tion that two shillings and a penny were paid for a load of sand to strew in the street, that the new archbishop might follow the ancient custom, and walk barefoot to church! That ecclesiastics had a good deal of wine is manifest from items in the " Christ Church Letters," in which volume are some letters from the vintner to the prior, containing such passages as : " I send you ... a pipe of claret wine, and a hoggisshed of whyte wine and one butt of wyne Greke. I would have sent you another butt of wyne Greke, save I understood that Barnewelle the fishmonger had ready for you a butt of Malvesey, and therefore I send you but one butt." In a letter from Thomas Langton to the prior in 1483 he requests that 382 The Spell of England he should " praye his servant to buy him two tuns of wine, and to bring it home with yours," and also states that " the King will write to his said cousin as specially as he can for your wine . . . send Smith your servant for your wine," and numerous other letters of the same character. In 1550 there occurred a very amusing epi- sode. Mr. John Grigg was sent to Rome to solicit a bull of indulgence from the Pope in order that a special jubilee might be held in Canterbury in honour of the saint. Dr. Grigg writes from Eome to Archbishop Warham, to propitiate the pontiff: " If your Grace should send a cuppe of golde to the Pop it had been wel done; and should do much in this cause. I am in great favour with the Pop hys sister, the which knoweth his nature. I trust she shall do great good in this matter." Dr. Grigg 's worldly wisdom and diplomacy won, and, Bately the historian writes, " after a tedious and dilatory proceeding, and the expense of vast sums of money and rich presents, the Jubi- lee was granted, but upon such terms as seemed hardly reasonable, yet such as could not be re- sisted, namely, that the Pope should receive half the oblations made in the church during the whole year of Jubilee. And herewith all Canterbury 383 Jubilees have for ever ceased to be celebrated in the church." Surely, the Pope was as good a business man as Mr. Grigg! The Canterbury pilgrims always received little leaden bottles filled with sacred water from a well in the cathedral precincts, into which the general debris of the martyrdom had been swept upon the occasion of the clearing up after the murder of Becket. This water is said to have exhibited signs of being tinctured to all eternity with the deposit of martyr's blood which fell into it at that time. Of course it worked miracles. Originally it used to be put into little wooden bottles, but these cracked, which was interpreted also as a miracle, to sig- nify that the saint considered the vessel un- worthy. So the leaden bottles, or " ampula " were introduced, and these appeared to give satisfaction. In the days of Henry VIII the saint was de- posed from his exalted position and brought to trial. The judgment of " ouster " would have been passed against him (for, as might have been foreseen, Becket failed to appear to an- swer the charges!) had not Henry magnani- mously assigned him counsel at the public ex- pense. The sentence finally passed was that " Thomas, sometime archbishop of Canterbury, 384 The Spell of England had been guilty of contumacy, treason, and re- bellion, and that his bones should be publicly burned, to admonish the living of their duty, by the punishment of the dead, and that the offer- ings at his shrine should be forfeit to the Crown, his pictures destroyed, and his name erased from the list of saints." It was not a bad spec- ulation for the Crown that it should receive the offerings at Becket's shrine, for in one year the offerings to the Deity had amounted to three pounds, those to the Virgin, sixty-three pounds, and those at Becket's shrine, eight hun- dred and thirty-two ; while, at a later date, nine hundred and fifty-two pounds were received at the shrine, four at the Virgin's altar, and no offerings at all were made to the Deity! The offerings were not only in money, but in jewels and ornaments which were often sent by wealthy patrons. In " Christ Church Letters " there is a note of thanks to the Countess of Va- lois " for a silver image with a base," after expatiating upon which the writer adds " we have especially prayed for you and yours, and propose to continue our devotions in this par- ticular. We have placed the said image in front of the. shrine of St. Thomas, close to another silver image which was offered by your dear Canterbury 385 son, whom God assoil." Richard, the prior in 1332, writes to the queen of Navarre, " Know, madame, that on the seventeenth day of April your servant J. de Couffle came to the shrine, and offered in your name five florins and a gold ring set with a ruby, and please to understand that the said ring was affixed to the said shrine in the presence of the said John, on the afore- said day." At the time of the Reformation, all things pertaining to the shrine and St. Thomas were done away with. Cranmer, in a letter to Crom- well, says, in 1538, " Father, because I have had in great suspect that St. Thomas hys blood in Christ Church Canterburie is but a fayned thinge, and made of some red ochre or like matter, I beseech your lordship that . . . my chaplains may have the King's Commission to try and examine that and all other things there." These " other things " were certainly duly examined, and cast aside; but then fol- lows the inevitable tragedy in the period of the iconoclasts, when the soldiers of Cromwell desecrated the cathedral, and all signs of so- called idolatry, and nearly everything else, were swept relentlessly away. Among the iconoclasts was one named Rich- ard Culmer, or " Blue Dick," a minister of 386 The Spell of England Godneston, to whom Wharton, the Royalist writer, alludes as " a man odious for his zeal and fury." Culmer was appointed to superin- tend the demolition of idolatrous symbols at Canterbury, which work he seems to have rel- ished exceedingly. He was the author of a work entitled " Cathedral Newes from Canter- burie, showing the Canterburian Cathedral to be in an abbey-like rotten and corrupt condi- tion, which calls for a speedy reformation or dissolution." Both processes seem to have been employed by Blue Dick at once. He de- scribes his own success, in 1642: " Many win- dow images or pictures in glasse were demol- ished that day, and many idols in stone. A minister was on the top of the city ladder, near sixty feet high, with a whole pike in his hands, rattling down proud Becket's glasse bones! " The troopers on this occasion were instructed to play upon the organ until it would play no more, and we may imagine the sounds that must have issued from the cathedral during the accomplishment of this work of devastation. They finally succeeded, for " they thumped upon the case of whistles which never were in tune since," exclaims Blue Dick, gleefully. Evelyn thus mentions Canterbury : ' ' Here I visited the Cathedral, then in great splendour, Canterbury 387 those famous windows being intire, since de- molished by the Phanatiqs." While Culmer was thus disporting himself, a townsman who was standing loj asked him what he was doing; he answered, " The work of the Lord." " Then," replied the man, " if it pleases God, I will help you! " and he aimed a stone at Blue Dick, who was obliged to duck his head ignominiously to escape sharing the fate of the defenceless " idols! " In 1660 Culmer was brought to trial for com- plicity in a plot, and when he was asked why, in one window representing the devil tempting Christ, he " brake down Christ and left the devil standing? " he replied that he had orders from Parliament to destroy all images of Christ, but that he had received no instructions regarding the devil. As a town to-day, there is no more typical spot in England than Canterbury. A great many people vi^it the cathedral, and consider that they have seen all there is to see. Not at all. Much of the mediaeval city remains, espe- cially the quaint buildings of the various brotherhoods. In 1595 " there were in the city three Friars, namely, the Augustines, the Grey, and the Black, or begging friars. There is one main street in the city, which goeth directly 388 The Spell of England through the same city, coming in it at the West gate, and going out at St. George's gate, being the East gate." This description might be printed in a modern guide book, for one can walk along this very street, with these very gates at either end, and see, on the way, the most fascinating houses and little narrow side- streets leading off as they must always have done. It is a privilege to take the old records, and go and stand on the bridge over the little river, and read what the book says about its appear- ance in mediaeval times, and see how little is changed. There were the same old mills by the river; the houses were generally rather insig- nificant, but some were ornamented in Gothic taste, and showed many grotesque devices. Swans were to be seen swimming on the river, presided over by keepers called ' ' swanupers. ' ' The lanes and narrow streets rejoiced in curi- ous names, the Angel, Little Pet, /Break-pot, Speech-house, while one whole district was known as " Le Poulletrie." This meant the poultry-market. The markets were distributed all over the city ; in one place would stand the flesh-market, in another the cloth-market, and so on. In Burgate Ward there stood a cross, at a place that was called the ' ' bull-stake, ' ' which Canterbury 389 name, says Somner, ' ' is' tooke from the baiting and chasing of bulls there, by an ancient order and custom of the city Butchers, before their killing; not so much, if at all, for pleasure, as to make them man's meat, and fit to be eaten, which bull's flesh, without such baiting and chasing, is not held to be." This is a new ex- cuse for bull-baiting which I have never met elsewhere ! Somner suggests a possible use for the twenty-one turrets in the old city walls, saying that they might make " what we much want, convenient pest-houses and receptacles for the poor visited people of the Citye." Certainly twenty-one pest-houses would have been ample accommodation for a city the size of mediaeval Canterbury! There were already hospitals; one, we are told, was founded by Lanfranc, for the leprous, and one for the " aged and impo- tent." In this one was reserved an old shoe of St. Thomas a Becket, " faire set in copper and crystal," which all were privileged to kiss. Steeples, spires and belfries rose at intervals, there being thirteen churches in the town. One of these, a little chantry chapel, called Luke- dale, was " forsaken for the smallness of the meanes," at which we cannot wonder when we learn that the Lukedale revenue consisted of 390 The Spell of England ' ' thirty-two acres of land, sixteen shillings and five pence, and eight cocks, and nineteen hens." One of the cemeteries was connected with the Priory of St. Gregory, but interment there was considered a costly extravagance ; * ' neither can they bury in it unless they pay twopence for an old body and a penny for a child "! Even, the cemetery allowed children at half price, it would seem. I once happened to be in Canterbury on Sim- day. The Sabbatarian hush was on all traffic except pedestrians, who galumphed up and down the street to that extent that it sounded like the noise of rotary mill-stones! It was a positive grinding of feet on the pavements. They are clever enough to adorn the tables in the hotel with Canterbury bells. The hotels of Canterbury are typically English, comforta- ble, unaffected, and unspoiled by hordes of Americans, who usually only remain long enough to see the cathedral, and then speed on ! In the cathedral on this special Sunday the sermon was delivered by what Phillips Brooks would have called a " moth-eaten angel," a wearied and benign old party who spoke of things that we had " handled with our eyes." No one seemed to notice the slip; after all, that is almost what one does in Canterbury! Canterbury 391 It is inexplicable that the most recent monu- ment in Canterbury should be the ugliest ; this is the very philistine tomb of that most saintly and worthy of men, Archbishop Benson. All the influences of art and history were powerless to affect the designer of this later shrine. One remembers that David Copperfield and his aunt drove through the Canterbury streets on market day. David observes : ' ' My aunt had great opportunity of insinuating the grey pony among carts, baskets, vegetables, and huckster's goods." A good many Dickens as- sociations are recalled in Canterbury. The school which Copperfield is supposed to have attended was probably the one in the cathedral close known as King's School. In one of the little shops an old man asked me if I knew that years ago, Dickens himself used to pass his door often. " I have seen him," said he, " for Uriah Heep lived just above here, and Dickens was constantly coming and going! " The " 'umble 'ome " of Uriah Heep is still pointed out. On one occasion when we visited the cathe- dral a middle-aged lady from Maine joined the party. She had with her a grandson, Thomas, who, she insisted, was a lineal descendant of Backet; in fact, she alluded to him as " the last 392 The SpeU of England of the line. ' ' Probably the line had been drawn taut and thin by emigration! Thomas was about sixteen, shy and awkward, of course, as any youth would be when made such a centre of attraction by a proud and injudicious grand- mother. When we arrived at the throne of Augustine she seated herself with alacrity, and bade him do the same, saying, ' ' Come, Thomas, you must be able to say that you've set down in this chair when you get home! " She actu- ally detained the whole party until he complied. He was kept in alternating states of blush and pallor all through the visit. Probably it devel- oped into a fever by night. As to the spot where Beeket fell ! When we came to the mar- tyrdom chapel, she pulled him forward and cried, ' ' Come and stand on the spot where your ancestor fell ! " As we left the transept I heard her say, " You'd ought to go down on your knees and kiss it! " I did not wait to see whether he obeyed or choked her. She explained that Canterbury reminded her a little of Trinity Church, New York, only she thought Trinity was larger, and of course hand- somer, because it was so much newer. But she began to get more respectful as we progressed from chapel to cloister and from cloister to tower, and she admitted finally that it did seem Canterbury 393 larger than she had thought from the outside. She criticised severely the fact that there were so many tombs within the sacred walls. " We have given up burying people in churches in America," she announced. " We don't con- sider it healthy." When we arrived at the tomb of the Black Prince, she pointed to his shirt and coat of mail suspended overhead, and exclaimed, " Lor'! it looks as if he'd worn 'em all his life and never taken a bath at that! " When we came to the tomb which one old sufferer had erected to himself during his life- time, and curiously carved with skulls and bones to keep himself advised of his latter end, she observed, " Well, if that isn't just the kind of thing the Sandwich-Islanders do, instead of Christians! " Then she asked the verger, " How is this establishment kept up? " and at intervals one overheard her murmur, "I'd like to know the difference between this and the church of Rome ' ' ! As we entered the vast library of the cathe- dral we found the voluble lady before us, and heard her asking the librarian to open the win- dow—she said it was " awful stuffy." Well, of course, it was; and an American house- keeper would have aired it twice a day ; but the expression on the face of the old librarian, 394 The Spell of England when he heard this proposition to do something which I suppose had not been done since the fifteenth century, if then, was a study. It would take the whole Church Militant to move the tracery in one of those windows, I have no doubt. CHAPTEE XVn ALONG THE SOUTHERN COAST >OMETIMES one lands at Liverpool and sometimes at Southampton. I can recall a certain winter arrival, during a storm which broke the Eng- lish record for fifteen years. Then again I re- member summer seas without even a ground swell to dispel the illusion of the ship being a good hotel with restricted accommodations. I remember other trips when shipwreck seemed the only escape from the horrors of pitch and roll, and when a watery grave would have been almost soothing. There is a type of arrogance which is dis- played by those immune travellers who are not sea-sick. That pride in a superior constitution acts as an irritant to those less lucky ones who are reclining in their steamer chairs. These people take delight in parading across one's vision, and it is difficult to believe that their hilarity is natural. I recall one lady who al- ways wore a pink and grey knitted outfit — 395 396 The Spell of England sweater, cap, etc. — and our party used to call her the Animated Bed Slipper. Some ships have the name for being espe- cially steady. I think this is largely a matter of weather. The first day out, people mention it; they say, " How wonderfully steady this ship is ! " The day after, they mention it with more reserve — that reserve which character- ized Dr. Johnson's mention of a little dog which walked on its hind legs; not that he walked especially well, but it was remarkable that he could walk at all. So, usually, the ship is not so very quiet, but it is remarkable that it is quiet at all. On one of our arrivals in England, when the pilot came on board, he brought the news of peace between Briton and Boer, and all the men drank to the success of peace at the risk of their own, and dignified, subdued Britons got gay, and it was very merry. One of us once asked a steward some ques- tion relating to sea-sickness. He replied, ' ' No- body can be sea-sick on this boat; there is nothing to make anybody sick, — unless," he added thoughtfully, " it might be the motion." As this has usually been the cause of this spe- cial complaint, his expert testimony left us un- moved. Along the Southern Coast 397 At any rate, the voyage, good or bad, is quickly forgotten as soon as land comes in sight. The description of England as given in the Chronicle of Gildas stands as true to-day as it did in the sixth century, when it was penned: " The island of Britain is embellished by certain castles, with walls, towers, well barred gates, and houses with threatening bat- tlements buUt on high, and provided with all requisite instruments of defence." This is one aspect. Grildas continues: "It is decked . . . with transparent rivers, flowing in gentle mur- murs, and offering a sweet pledge of slumber to those who recline upon their banks." In whatever direction one decides to proceed, after landing in England, one surely sees castles and rivers, not to mention cathedrals and the nu- merous features which render this island the most fertile in interest to foreign travellers of any territory of its size in the world. I remember landing once at Southampton, after a wretched voyage, in a cold rain. We went to a quiet and thoroughly British little hotel, where our room was the picture of cozi- ness, with its chintz curtains and four-post bed- stead, but it was catacomb-like in its chill. The sheets appeared to have been iced. We tried to light a fire, but, with characteristic obstinacy, 398 The Spell of England it went out after nearly smoking us out of the window. The servant cheerfully accounted for this by saying, ' ' Yes, it is the wind. All the chimneys always smoke when the wind is in this direction." Southampton is well worth seeing, but many people run right through it, either up to Lon- don, or to the Isle of Wight. We were taken about the town by a loquacious driver, who pointed out the old Norman walls, and the statue of Dr. Watts standing in solemn isola- tion in a large park, where there is nothing between him and the stars, good soul ; no doubt he has by this time discovered what they are. St. Michael's Church, too, is little known and very interesting. It has a curious tower ter- mination over the chancel, with four open arches, a very unusual feature. Parts of the building are Norman. There is a good twelfth- century font suggestive of the celebrated one at Winchester, and an instructive case full of chained Bibles. The best known feature of Southampton is the Bar Gate. We were amused at the faded remains of the portrait of the giant Ascupart, and one of the redoubtable Sir Bevis of South- ampton, so familiar in legend. There is a great old beam and plaster house KOMSEY ABBEY. Along the Southern Coast 399 on the corner near St. Michael's Church, which has the reputation of being one of the residences of Henry VIII and Anne Bolejrn. One ought not to leave Southampton without going to that delightful old buildiag which forms so large a part in the education of a stu- dent of historic architecture, Komsey Abbey, Hants. I had met this name so often under illustrations of Norman windows and corbels, in architectural text-books, that it was like meeting an old friend to see it " in the flesh," so to speak. We went all over it, even through the dust of ages in the triforium, and enjoyed the ancient Saxon crucifix and the delightful grotesque heads under the eaves on the exte- rior. The old Saxon crucifix at Eomsey is of an unusual design ; the Christ is crowned, and does not suffer from his weight on the cross; this had theological significance at the time, because the idea of a humiliated Saviour was repulsive to many people, and the regnant Christ was chosen for representation. At Eomsey there is a large factory of brick near the station, with the ingenuous inscrip- tion: " Manufacturer of Home Made Pre- serves," and a hotel, candidly admitting its limitations, is named " The Railway View." 400 The Spell of England My earliest associations of England are in the Isle of Wight, where my childhood was spent. Among many early experiences, one especially stands out with the clearness of criminal recollection, and this was my indefen- sible behaviour at my first sight of Queen Vic- toria. I was only six years of age when we went to live in Eyde, and, having been a young American up to that time, I had never been brought to feel that reverence for royalty which was the heritage of the other children about me. So, when I learned for the first time that I was to see the queen of England drive by our house, I had mixed emotions, consisting chiefly of curiosity and a sort of bravado al- most akin to contempt. Several of us were ranged in line on Castle Street, waiting for the outrider to appear, and the English children and nurses were in a state of excitement over the anticipated event. The queen, who was at her summer home at Os- borne, was to pass that way, accompanied by her faithful John Brown and all the usual mem- bers of the royal party. At last the outrider came in, sight. He was cheered by the children, not for his own sake, >ut for the promise of better things to come, — much as we welcome early thaws in March. Along the Southern Coast 401 After a few minutes, in which I admit that I became greatly infected by the enthusiasm of my friends, the carriage appeared in the dis- tance. I saw — what did I see? Could it be two faces close together? No, they were not quite large enough for that. The carriage came nearer — I saw that the things I had taken for twin faces were the bare' knees of John Brown, who was sitting in the rumble, behind Her Majesty, but a little higher. In front, lower down, I distinguished an unpretending head in a quiet black bonnet, which head belonged to the sovereign of the nation. One of the English nurses whispered to me, " Now, you must make your prettiest curtsey, you know!" Curtsey! To royalty? No! All the republican blood in me rose in rebellion at the thought. Why should I, a free American, bow the knee to a woman? This evil spirit of obstinacy dominated me as the carriage rolled by, and, as the other children obediently ducked, the party was surprised and shocked to see the young American turn a complete and deliberate somersault in the sight of royalty. It was a rude way to behave, and I was soon made to appreciate this. I was immediately regaled with narratives about all the good, polite little girls whom the queen liked j I was told how 402 The Spell of England little Polly, my friend, had run out into the road and made such, a graceful reverence to Her Majesty that the royal equipage was stopped, and the queen had asked the name of the well-bred child. By degrees I began to see the folly of my proceeding, and to realize that I had done a very silly and impolite thing, and that no matter where she might see me in future, the queen would be sure to remember, and to say, " Oh, that is the disrespectful American child who turned a somersault as I passed! " and no favour would ever be shown me. My presentation at court when I should have attained the desirable age of twenty, would be quite impossible. Remorse set in, and I fully believed all the nurses said, for I had noticed that the queen had singled me out for an astonished and shocked glance at the time of my misdemeanour. Self-reproach in its bitter- est form visited me. Then I began to hear anecdotes of the amia- bility and sweetness of the good queen. I was told by some friends who lived near Osborne House that one day they had met her visiting poor people who lived in some of their own cot- tages, and that she carried grapes with her own hands to some who were ill. This seemed very human, and not at all like a lady with a crown Along the Southern Coast 403 and sceptre. Then a very domestic story was related by an old admiral in Ryde. He had been in command of the royal yacht, and Queen Victoria and her children were returning one day from a cruise. They were getting into their carriages after landing, when suddenly a cry went up from the little Beatrice, who was then the baby. In a few moments Princess Louise, with the screaming Beatrice in her arms, came running towards the carriage in which the queen and Prince Albert were sitting, and, ex- claiming, " You told her that she should drive with you, and she shall ! ' ' she dumped the baby into its royal mother's lap. And it rode in that carriage, too. All these incidents awakened in me an affec- tion for the queen, such as her own subjects felt, and by the next year I was her devoted admirer. When it was time for her again to drive through our street, I was on hand — in fear and trembling, it is true, lest I should be recognized and denounced — in a fever of loyal expectation, waiting at the tall iron gates which enclosed the garden of our villa. This time I made a profound obeisance, and longed to sing ' ' God Save the Queen. " On finding that I was not an object of special disdain on this occa- sion, I became bolder, and after that I used 404 The Spell of England always to climb up on the gate posts and sit on the stone balls on the top, cheering as Her Majesty passed, and I received one or two smiles while so engaged. The unusual noise was such that her attention was attracted to look up, and having once glanced toward me, and caught the eye of an enthusiastic child, she was too gracious a sovereign not to smile at the youthful offender. I remember, too, that I felt a thrill of envy when I went into the parish church at Whip- penham, and saw the comfortably upholstered chairs and the cozy little fire-place in the royal pew. I thought that any one might enjoy church-going if one had an arm-chair and a nice fire to poke during the sermon! One day my mamma and papa came home from making a call on a certain dowager, and they told me that their hostess had given them tea from the same golden cups from which the queen had been served, she having just made a call at the same house, and the tea-things be-' ing still on the table when my parents arrived. This seemed to bring her quite into the fam- ily! I felt then that I should not be a bit more afraid of her than of my own grand- mamma, whom I had left at home in Bos- ton. Along the Southern Coast 405 At last we were indirectly the means of min- istering to the actual comfort of the royal lady. After our first English winter, my father had felt that we must have some means of warming the house which should be more thorough than the small fire-places. How should we obtain a furnace? Such a thing had never been heard of in Ryde, and it was out of the question to buy one. So my father went to a local stove dealer and bought a regular stove of ample proportions, and over this he had a hood con- structed, on the general principle of a furnace, from which one primitive pipe arose through the floor into the front hall, surmounted by an apology for a register — a plate of tin with holes punched in it. Our butler was lost in admiration. He had never conceived of so per- fect a method of distributing heat. We used to hear him bring his friends into the cellar, show them the stove with its attachments, and then gravely lead the way upstairs, pointing out the little register with a stately wave of the hand, upon which exclamations of surprise would follow. Finally, one day, the stove man came in person and asked my father if he would ob- ject to having the stove duplicated. He ex- plained that the queen's chamberlain had heard of the American invention in Eyde, and that it 406 The Spell of England was the royal wish to introduce one in a wing at Osborne House. How glad I was to think that the rude child of former years should be able at last to feel that the transgression of her youth was wiped out in the introduction of creature comforts for the dear lady through the existence of this American family in the Isle of Wight ! There have been many changes in the Island since those days ! I am almost inclined to sigh with Sir John Oglander, " The Isle of Wight, since my memory, is infinitely decayed! " It only shows that from century to century human nature always feels that the inevitable changes that occur are for the worse — perhaps we flatter ourselves. At Nunwell Park, where agreeable social duties frequently took us, we have been shown the room in which Charles I was concealed, while he was hiding in the Island. Sir John Oglander, who, in those days, was the chief man of the Isle of Wight, and a loyal subject to the king, has left a quaint diary, in which he tells about the king's taking refuge there. " I heard a rumour," writes Sir John, " that the kinge was that night landed at Cowes. I confess I could not believe it; " but he goes on to state that the same evening he received a Along the Southern Coast 407 message, commanding him and his son to meet His Majesty at Newport. He relates the rea- son for the king's flight from London. " Hee informs me necessity brought him hither, and there were a sort of people near Hampton Court, from whence he came, that were re- solved to murder him, or words to that effect. And therefore so privately he was obliged to come away, and so to thrust himself upon this island, hoping here to be secure." Sir John Oglander harboured King Charles at Nunwell; part of the time of his stay in the Island he was a prisoner at Carisbrooke Castle. The story of his attempted escape through a win- dow is well known ; the space between the bars was too small for the passage of his body, and he was obliged to relinquish the attempt. Sir John had a great friend in Sir Eichard Worsley of Appledurcomb. Although this gen- tleman had but one eye. Sir John says that he was " wonderful studious," " insomutch that he affected no country sports, either hawking or hunting, but spent his time wholly at his booke, when he was alone. " He had a playful streak, however, for Sir John also says that he was * ' very merry and a notable good fellow in company that he knew." One of the most amusing pictures I can conjure up is the scene 408 The Spell of England described by Sir John when he, the leading personage of the Island, and his august friend, Sir Richard, indulged in a pillow fight. He says : " He delighted much in flinging of cush- ions at one another's heads, only for sport and for exercise; until that with a cushion I was like to put out his other eye ! ' ' Ingenuous, too, is the allusion to Mr, Eman- uel Badd, who " By God's blessing and ye loss of five wives " grew " very ritch." The Oglanders all lie buried in the dear little old church at Brading, and old Sir John lies out on his tomb dressed as a crusader, with his son's monument in a little niche just above him. This figure is an exact miniature of his own efSgy, about two feet long, the only variation being in the length of the swords, and the ab- sence of a mustache from the son. It is very quaint and mannered, done in coloured stone. At one time the Isle of Wight was a king- dom, for Henry VI crowned his friend and fa- vourite, Henry Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, as King of Wight. But this monarch only lived two years, and the Island then lost its title, for Edward IV appointed in his place a Lord of Wight instead, so it was a short lived glory. Quarr Abbey was a flourishing institution in its day, the abbots liviag like princes. It had Along the Southern Coast 409 communication with the sea through Eyde, which was then La Rye, and it garrisoned itself securely even when La Eye was burned by the French. A delightful day may always be spent in the Isle of Wight by taking the regular coach around the Undercliff drive, lunching at Vent- nor, and visiting Shanklin Chine, that most picturesque faerie land of gorges and rills. The frugal plan of charging admission to chines and vales and rural beauties, which in most lands are recognized as being part of the landscape, and free to all, is well noted by Henry James, who speaks of a " respectable person " who appears and " demands a penny, and on receiving it, admits you with great civil- ity to commune with nature." Even these guarded spots are garnished with sign boards, " threatening legal pursuit if you attempt to evade the payment of the sacramental penny. ' ' We onee took this drive on a day when the eclipse of the sun took place at noon, as pre- dicted, and we saw it clearly. There were light clouds, and they took the place of smoked glass, and acted as a veil. We obtained a photograph of it, too, by turning the camera up at the sky — this is quite a curiosity ! Though Carisbrooke Castle has had au event- 410 The Spell of England ful history of siege and adventure, the chief things that attract the casual visitor to-day are the little donkey who treads the mill to raise a bucket of water from the deep well, and the diversion of parading the extreme top of the wall with a single line of gas pipe between you and destruction. Also it is supposed to afford much amusement to throw a pebble down this well, and hear it go down " nickety nock, like a pebble in Carisbrooke Well." Between Sandown and Brading lies the most remarkable remains of a Roman villa, prob- ably, in England. Every visitor to the island ought to see it, with its pavements of truly re- markable mosaic, and its hypocaust which sup- plied heat under the floors. It is more up to date than English houses of this century!' At Newport station we once saw a calf teth- ered to a post; on the post was the sign " Cowes Train." And we were the only ones who laughed ! Among the interesting relics one of our Ryde friends has to show is a letter from the Duke of Kent, announcing the birth of ' ' our little daughter Victoria." To think of the august queen being so informally treated ! The great annual attraction in the island is " Cowes Week," which occurs in August. The Along the Southern Coast 411 yachts are out in full force, and races and fes- tivities take place, and the town of Cowes is packed to overflowing with personages who would resent a prison cell if it resembled the rooms for which they pay fabulous prices ! It was a particularly interesting thing to see Cowes Week in 1902, just before the Coronation of Edward VII. The royal yacht lay as a cen- trepiece in the harbour, with the convalescent king aboard. And, because he was safely float- ing there at anchor, they sang the hymn " for those in peril on the sea ' ' in the churches ! We met at lunch one day in Cowes the son of the owner of the first boat which ever raced for the America 's Cup ; — the Aurora was defeated by the America. It is interesting to come thus in touch with people who are connected with our own sporting history. Then shortly after followed the actual Coro- nation, which had been postponed. In Eyde the occasion was celebrated by varied decorations and festivities. All small brick villas, ours among the number, had fully developed cases of " flags on the string," and the streets were gay to overflowing. The fleet in Spithead as- sembled for the naval review the following week, fired imposing salutes at the moment of Coronation, and were most picturesque lying 412 The Spell of England out in the grey water enveloped in clouds of smoke. The week after Coronation was a gay one in the island. Visitors were assembling for the naval review, and parties to go around the fleet started every two hours. The Victoria Yacht Club in Ryde is one of the few clubs of which the king was still a member, and the club gave a ball which far outclassed anything I have seen in its special line. In the first place the tickets were sent all over England, and even into Scotland, so you may imagine that there was a mixture of all sorts and conditions of guests, from cotmtesses who were off for a quiet flirtation, to duchesses who were inter- ested to watch them. The best supper that I ever saw served under such conditions was served any time between eleven and three ; you went in as often as you liked, and the dainty tid-bits were not sufficiently solid to prevent your coming again later. Champagne was on each table, and as soon as a few glasses had been filled a fresh bottle replaced the earlier one, so that it might be absolutely sparkling. You may imagine that it was a trifle gay. And it was so intelligently arranged ! The club gar- dens reach straight down from the house to the water, ending in a stone wall along the coast Along the Southern Coast 413 line. No lights were visible in this garden, ex- cept the occasional gleams of cigarettes, — two tiny lights, close together, at intervals ema- nated from the lips of couples leaning on the wall or strolling up the paths. It was usual to stumble frequently, owing to the lack of bril- liant illumination, and when you looked to see what had impeded your progress, you usually found that it was two little chairs placed stra- tegically together in the depth of the shadow. How much more tactful than Japanese lan- terns ! The lawn was covered with small tents, each containing two chairs. It was an unusu- ally well set English party. The ball had engaged the best band in South- ern England, when suddenly the king took it into his head to have music on his yacht that evening ; so we had to have any old music. At the garden party the next day, which was as grand a social event as the ball, in a daylight way, we were to have been regaled by the Jap- anese band from one of the Japanese war ships ; but, by a curious coincidence, His Maj- esty felt a longing for Japanese music at pre- cisely the same hour, so we had the redcoats instead. We watched the naval review from the pier, thus enjoying at no extra charge the sight for 414 The Spell of England which Cook's Tourists were paying ten guin- eas! The Isle of Wight was a most strategic place just at this juncture. In the evening the illuminations were magnificent. We all went to the house of a friend, and there, overlooking the Solent, and regaled at intervals with re- freshments, we watched in luxury the display. It was most effective; the use of coloured search-lights was very well handled, and the ships were entirely covered with electric lights, as close together as they could be placed, thus suggesting, not ships outlined hy lights, but veritable ships of fire. As they lay together on the water, with their masts uprearing like steeples and turrets, they seemed to me to re- semble the popular idea of the Holy City. (The Mayor of Eyde, by the way, was the au- thor of that song — Mr. Maybrick, whose nom- de-plume is Stephen Adams). At eleven o'clock all the other lights went out, leaving the king's yacht the only bit of illumination on the waters. Then, at a signal, the coloured search-lights all broke forth from every ship in the fleet, and were thrown so as to form an arch of fire over the royal yacht. At twelve o'clock the royal salute of twenty-one guns was fired. It was quite thrilling. A charming field-by-lame walk from Eyde to Along the Southern Coast 415 Binstead is a diversion on a fine day. Over the gateway" leading to the dear old church is an age-blunted carving which is supposed to have been a Saxon idol. It represents a man riding a ram. The local legend is that every time this little man hears the clock strike twelve, at mid- night, he gets down and runs three times around the church. Children are constantly testing this proposition ! And dear little Bonchurch! One cannot think of it without an indulgent smile, such as one bestows on a fascinating child. One can hardly take it seriously as an actual village with people living in it ! It lies buried in ver- dure, and has to be sought to be discovered. Henry James says that Bonchurch is " indeed, in a manner, quite absurd. It is like a model village in imitative substances," he continues, " kept in a big glass case. The turf might be of green velvet, and the foliage of cut paper! " We were amused there one day to see a little boy, about five, carrying a bludgeon, who ac- costed us : " I don't suppose you've got a penny to give me? " The Head of the House asked this peaceful highwayman, " What would you do if I gave you one? " The mite, with a bow, replied, " Say thank you." This was so orig- inal that the penny exchanged hands promptly. 416 The Spell of England Thanks were elaborate. Mite: "It's a real big penny, isn't it? " Head of the House. " Yes. What shall you buy with it? " Mite: " Sweets. That's all." (With the manner of saying, " I don't drink.") He then walked along with us, and soon we came to two girls of about nine and ten years of age. He waved his bludgeon airily, and cried: "I've got a penny! " Then to us: "I never share my sweets with girls." But when he afterwards met two boys he was discreet enough not to mention the penny at all, and he waved his stick even more freely. He was be- ginning to understand the essentials of bread winning. From the Isle of Wight one should run to Portsmouth just to glance at the harbour anJl Nelson's old ship, the Victory, which lies there. As it has been quaintly expressed, " a very capital convenience to the harbour of Ports- mouth is the safe and spacious road of Spit- head, which lies between the continent of Hamp- shire and the Isle of Wight." A great fire des- troyed the docks at Portsmouth in 1760; we have a graphic account of it from a " gentle- man " who wrote at the time. " On July third at twelve in the morniag a dreadful fire broke out in the dock yard of this place, in a fine pile .. LjiiTpii y^uijirniiip ^^Bhb ^ '~^v\ ^^Sk j-im ' ^^ififl^^l i ^S^LT'^i' " B^ij^^«*Wm Y^^^E^B j^t^?'»/^^^^ ^8^ ^'^ '"*/";■"'■ V Along the Southern Coast 417 of buildings that was fitted with some of the best stores of His Majesty's navy . . . the beams, by the violence of the fire, flew in the air like so many paper serpents, and many of them fell in G-osport. It rained very hard all night. It is thought that the stores caught fire by the lightning, which was very terrible; the element appearing as all on a blaze. . . . Yet with all this devastation, amounting to a very great loss, such was the diligence exerted and such was the quantity of stores in the naval way at Chatham, . . . that all was easily sup- plied, without any very sensible loss by the public, though in the midst of a heavy and ex- pensive war." Leaving the harbour of Ports- mouth, one looks at the old hulk of the historic black and white war-ship, remembering, as Lord Lytton said, that - - « At the head of the line goes the Victory With Nelson on the deck." The great market cross at Chichester, with four broad streets leading to it, and a Eoman wall in close proximity, is the best one x have seen in England. The proportions are particu- larly charming. The cathedral is small, but effective. The old Saxon sculptures there are as interesting as anything else, aod tiifi deibaalc 418 The Spell of England of the tomb of Maud of Arundel are pleasing. A funny old tempera painting of Henry VIII is very quaint. The king is making remarks in the form of scrolls proceeding from his mouth. In 1861 the spire of Chichester fell; it is re- ported to have " sheathed itself in its tower; " as if it were a sword in a scabbard. A large Roman stone was found in Chiches- ter, in 1723, while digging was going on, over which was an inscription translated as follows : ' ' This temple' was dedicated to Nep- tune and Minerva, for the safety of the Impe- rial family, by the authority of Tiberias Clau- dius. It was erected by the college of Artificers of King Cogidubnus, Augustus, lieutenant in Britain, and by those who officiated as priests or were honoured in it at their own expense, the ground being given by Pudens, the son of Pudentinus." Let not the heedless visitor go to Brighton and fail to see the two old churches at Shore- ham, both Norman and fascinating, and attain- able by a humble trolley car. In one of them there is a detail with crude round drill holes that might have been cut at Ravenna, with naive foliate forms and little grotesques. Swinburne has written a few lines on New Shoreham Church, as follows: Along the Southern Coast 419 " Strong as time, and as faith sublime, Clothed round with shadows of hopes and fears . . . Stands the shrine that has seen decline Eight hundred waxing and waning years. Tower set square to the storms of air And change of seasons that glooms and glows Wall and roof of it tempest proof And equal ever to sun and snows; " Bright with riches of radiant niches And pillars smooth as a straight stem grows. . . . " Dawn falls fair on the grey walls there, Confronting dawn on the low green lea. Lone and sweet as for fairies' feet. Held sacred, silent, and strange and free, Wild and wet with its riUs, and yet More fair falls dawn on the fairer sea." Defoe prophesied a destruction of Brighton, which has not yet occurred, saying : ' ' The sea is very unkind to Brighthelmstone, having by its continual encroachments so gained upon the town that in a little time the inhabitants may reasonably expect it will eat away the whole place, above one hundred houses having been devoured by the water in a few years past." In riding along the Brighton beach and cliff road, we noticed that the third rail of this elec- tric road was laid simply along the sands — not protected in any way. The children were play- 420 The Spell of England ing all about. We were somewhat shocked, and asked if they did not consider it dangerous, and whether they did not have accidents. The conductor replied, ' ' Oh, no ; it is a very slight voltage. A great many comes here and takes it for the rheumatiz." This is a comment on the phlegmatic disposition of the British, and the proportionate power of their electric cur- rents. If a row of them were sitting on the rail, surely the car would have to wait until they had obtained their shocks, before traffic could be resumed ! We asked an old stableman how many persons his large wagonette held. He replied, ' ' Twelve generally — sixteen if in- timate! " Of the fishing smacks along this coast Defoe says : ' ' They whisk away to market under such a crowd of sails that one would wonder they could bear them." It is well worth while to stand on the barbi- can at Lewes Castle and look out over the bat- tle-field. The records of Lewes have certain items of interest, and a few taken at random form food for thought. The Chronicle of Mail- ros states quite casually, " Lewes and other parts of Sussex are said to have been infested with serpents of enormous size." This writer of the eighth century is considered a great liar, Along the Souther n Coast 421 and so his testimony has about the same weight as that of those who report on the sea serpent. John de Warenne (1239-1304) seems to have been a leading martinet at Lewes ; among other conspicuous acts, he, ' ' for the sake of his hares and wUd game, imprisoned and fined at will other persons who hunted; he had seized the oxen of Richard A., at Edburton, for this cause, and confined his servants in Lewes Castle, where he asserted a right to imprison people at his pleasure, for three days, and had refused entrance there to the king's writ." In 1530 Lewes Castle became the county jail. Protestant martyrs were burned at Lewes in 1556 — one of them was a minister named Thomas Wood. No wonder Lewes is something of a ruin. Flint was sold out of the castle in 1620 for four- pence a load, to be used as the inhabitants liked ; many small establishments around are erected out of the original stone of the castle. Puritan names at Lewes were often very curious, — records exist of persons named " Faintnot," " Weepnot," and " Graceful! " In 1585 Mr. John Kyme inaugurated in his will a strange charity; he left a bequest of " forty shillings a year ... to be distributed by th« constables to poor housekeepers and old 422 The Spell of England maids." If the recipients were obliged to ap- ply for this assistance, I fancy the legacy rolled up considerably! In 1710 the local authorities were excited re- garding the spread of small pox in Lewes; several men were paid twelve shillings each to watch " and prevent Mr, Holmwood from bringing his son up in the town with the small pox. ' ' Gundrada, the daughter of William the Con- queror, is buried amidst the ruins of her own priory at Lewes. Her tomb, a flat slab, highly decorative in its ornamentation, may be seen in a little oratory, and is well worth a walk to the great open field where the priory fragments are to be seen. In Lewes Priory was also interred the Earl de Warennes, on whose tomb the following in- scription appeared in French: " Thou that dost tread this silent way Forget not for the dead to pray The bones that in this tomb are laid, In life's fair bloom were once arrayed; Like them shall thiae in time consume, And others trample on thy tomb; John Earl of Werenne's buried here, May mercy his flown spirit cheer; For his repose whoever prays Gains an indulgence of three thousand day^! " «-«l Along the Southern Coast 423 Defoe, speaking of Dover in the seventeenth, century, remarks : ' ' The packets for France go off here, in time of peace, as also those for Ostend, and all those ships which carry freights from New York to Holland, and from Virginia to Holland, come generally hither and unlade their goods . . . and pay the duties . . . and so they go away for Holland. ' ' In the days of Henry VIII an old traveller. Meander Nucius of Corcyra, writes: " I now proceed to state those things which occurred from Calais and the passage itself to the British Island of Eng- land. . . . Having gone on board ship straight- way at first we moved out of the harbour by rowing. And a gentle breeze blowing from land, low waves came rippling and smiling as it were under our stem. And it being now night, we being borne along by the tide, were accomplishing our voyage in smooth water, . . , but it fell out not as our master conjec- tured ... it being now midnight a certain wind called the north wind sprung up, the sea was suddenly rufBed, perhaps having undergone a change from the time of night, or this being produced by the mere will of fortune. The sound of the approaching storm was now heard, cleaving the waters of the ocean; and being tossed by huge waves rapidly succeeding each 424 The Spell of England other, and undergoing every species of danger, and being within a hair breadth of sinking, we entertained slender hopes of being saved; and although a side wind fell upon us, yet however towards sunset, we reached the promontory of the island, and came to land in the harbour of Dover." This all sounds very true. Crossing the Channel can still be just about what it was when Henry "VTII himself sailed in the Great Harry to visit the Field of the Cloth of Gold! THE END. BIBLIOGRAPHY AiNswoRTH, H. : Beau Nash, or Bath in the Eighteenth Century AiNswoBTH, H.: Windsor Caetle Anglo-Saxon Chronicle Austin, A.: Haunts of Ancient Peace Baring - Gould, G.: A Book of the West Baring - Gould, G.: The Book of Wales Bell's Cathedral Handbooks (various authors, a volume for every cathedral) Borrow, G.: Wild Wales Browne, Sir T.: Antiquities of Norwich Cathedral Cambrbnsis, G.: Itinerary through Wales Camm, Dom Bede: Forgotten Shrines Castle, A. and E.: A Bath Comedy Christ Church Letters CoBBOLD, Rev. R.: History of Margaret Catchpole Converse, F.: Long Will Crake, A. D.: Last Abbot of Glastonbury Cornish, C. J. : The Isle of Wight Defoe, D.: Tour of Great Britain De Quincet, T. : Poets of the Lake District Ditchfield: English Villages Ditchfield: Vanishing England Dugdale: Antiquities of Warwickshire Evelyn's Diary FiTZ Gerald, E.: Letters GiBBs, J. A.: A Cotswold Village Gissing, G.: Broadway Gonzales, Manuel: Travels in England Harris, M. D.: An Old English Town. (Coventry) Bbntzner, p. : Short Description of England HowELLS, W. D.: Certain Delightful English Towns Hughes, T.: Tom Brown at Rugby Hughes, T.: Scouring the White Horse Jambs, G. P. R.: Arrah Neil Jambs, Hbnet: Portraits of Places JOCELIN OF BRAKELONDE's ChRONICLE OP BuRT St. Edmund Jones: Legends of the West Coast KiNQSLET, C. : Hereward the Wake. A Tale of the Fens Lang, A.: Oxford 4^ 426 Bibliography Letland, J.: The Shakespeare Country LoFTiE, J.: Westminster Abbey MacFablane: Camp of Refuge. (The Fen Country) Marshall, Emma: Bristol Bells Marshall, Emma: In the East Country Marshall, Emma: Under Salisbury Spire Marshall, Emma: Winchester Meads Martin, J. J,: May Fair. Boston Four Hundred Years Ago Masson: Glastonbury Matthew Paris' Chronicle Matthew of Westminster's Chronicle Mbthubn's Little Guides to all the Counties of Eng- land Morlet: Rambles of Shakespeare's Land Moore, F. : A Nest of Linnets. (Bath) Moore, Mary: Mr. Zinzan of Bath Oqlander, Sir John: Diary Palgrave: The Merchant and the Friar Pepts' Diary Raine, Allen: Hearts of Wales Rawnsley, H. D.: Literary Associations with the English Lakes RiBTON - Turner, J. : Shakespeare's Land Roger op Wbndover's Chronicle Scott, W.: Kenilworth Castle Sbguin, L. G.: Rural England Sizer: The Wooing of Osyth Somner: Antiquities of Canterbury Stanley, A. P. : Memorials of Canterbury Stanley, A. P. : Memorials of Westminster Stow: Survey of London Stubbs, Charles: Cambridge Stubbs, Charles: In a Minster Garden Stubbs, Charles: Memorials of Ely Tainb, H. A.: Notes on England Times, J.: Abbeys, Castles, and Ancient Halls in England and Wales Winter, William: Shakespeare's England Winter, William: Grey Days and Gold William or Malmsbury's Chronicle Yongb, cm.: The Caged Lion INDEX Accles, 329. Adam, Abbot, 305. Adamnan, St., 339. Addison, Joseph, 44, 66, 129, 133, 242. Addison, Dean Launcelot, 259. Addisoia, Thomas, 245. Ainsworth, Harrison, 170. Alcott, Loiiisa, 78, 80. Alcuin, 216, 236. Aldhelm, 117. Alexandra, Queen, 18, 348. Alfgiva, 47. Alfred the Great, 114, 116. Anguish, T., 335. Anselm, Abbot, 349. Appledurcomb, 407. Arden (Forest of), 25, 26. Arthur, King, 121, 131, 216, 236, 338. Arthur of Wales, 81. Augustine, St., 362, 365 Auxerre, 363. Avalon, 121. Avon, River, 104. Baddesley Clinton, ix, 20-31, 255. Bakewell, 254, 256. Bailey, C, 150. Baldwin, Archbishop, 275. Banbury, ix, 33-35. Bangor, 270. Baret, J., 3.50. Barmouth, 287. Bamham, 345. Bamet, 172. Bamum, P. T., 15. Barton, B., 322. Bath, 103-114. Bathurst, Lord, 66. Beauchamp, R., 9. Beauchamp, H., 408. Beaudesert, 19. Becket, T. h, 375. Beckington, Bp., 106. Bede, Venerable, 216, 237, 365, 370. Beddgelert, 274, 278-285. Beeeham, J., 64. Benson, Archbishop, 391. Bemers, J., 178. Bertha, Queen, 363. Bettws-y-Coed, 267. Bevis of Southampton, 398. Bibury, 73. Bilton Hall, 44. Binstead, 415. Birinus, 117. Bladud, 104^110. Bolingbroke, 62. Bonchurch, 415. Boniface, 380. Borrow, G., 270, 276, 278, 343. Boston, 225-231. Botolf, St., 225, 228, 229. Bradford-on-Avon, 115-119. Brading, 68, 408, 410. Bradley, A. G., 291. Bridge, Sir B-, 157. Brighton, 418. Bristol, 105, 119-120. Broadway, 53-58. Brome, Nicholas, 26, 27. 427 428 Index Brooks, P., 390. Brown, J., 400. Browne, Sir T., 176, 341, 342. Bruningus, 46, 47. Bury St. Edmund, 345-361. Cader Idris, 291-292. Caerleon-on-Usk, 369. Caius, Dr., 222. Cambrensis, G., 275. Cambridge, 50, 137, 201, 216- 223. Cameiot, 182. Campbell, Lady C, 141. Cantaber, 216. Canterbury, 119, 362-394. Capgrave, 362. Carisbrooke, 407, 409. Carlisle, 240. Carnarvon, 261, 270-274. Caryl, Mary, 302. Castle Ashby, 50. Catchpole, M., 317. Chad, St., 259. Chandos, Lord, 63. Charlemagne, 216. Charles I, 34, 35, 37, 62, 307, 331 407 Charles II,' 37, 183, 258, 320, 342. Chatsworth, 254, 257. Chatterton, T., 119. Cheddar, 120. Cheltenham, 89. Cheater, 75, 260, 306-310. Chesterton, G., 115. Chichester, 417. Chick, 305. Churchyard, T., 75, 261, 274, 292. Cirencester, 62-70, 72. Clacton-on-Sea, 311. Clarence, Duke of, 86. Clovelly, 130. Cobbold, R., 317. Cockermouth, 249. Coleridge, S. T., 249. Congreve, 66. Connaught, Duke of, 285. Conway, 15, 95, 260-267. Constable, J., 4, 314, 318. Corinus, 138. Cornwall, 95, 131. Cotswold Hills, 53-74, 103. Cotton, J., 229-230. Coventry, ix, 36-44. Cowes, 406, 410. Crabbe, G., 176, 324. Crake, A. D., 120. Cranmer, 385. Crauden, Prior, 196. Criccieth, 288. Crofts, Sir R., 85.. Crome, J., 342. Cromwell, O., 26, 33, 197, 385. Cubbington, 3. Culmer (" Blue Dick "), 385. Cumberland, 240. Cuthbert, St., 252. Daglingworth, 69. Darbie, E., 351. Dee, River, 306. Defoe, D., 81, 108, 110, 115, 122, 125, 134, 171, 173, 183, 187, 259, 315, 336, 360, 373, 419, 420, 423. Denys of Burgundy, 371. Deloney, T., 135, 147. Derby, 257. Derby, Earl of, 308. De Quincey, 250. Derwentwater, 252. Devonshire, viii, 124. Dickens, C, 145, 188, 198, 315, 328, 346, 359, 391. Dinas Bran, 292, 304. Diocletian, 69. Drayton, M., 41. Dolgelley, 288. " Dombey and Son," 2, 8. Dover, 424. Dowsing, W., 220. Dudley, R., 9. Dugdale, 5, 26, 375, Index 429 Durer, A., 70. Durham, 236. Eadburg, St., 57. Earl's Barton, 50. Easedale, 250. East AngUa, 222, 225, 311-361. Ebbe's Fleet, 362. EdgehiU, 33, 34. Edgar the Peaceable, 110. Edinborough, 142, 238. Edmund, St., 49, 196, 346- 361. Edward I, 87, 261, 272. Edward II, 81, 91, 272. Edward III, 82. Edward IV, 85, 408. Edward VII, 77, 142, 411. Edward the Confessor, 238, 349. Edwards, R., 281. Einion, 296. Eleanor, Queen, 50. Ehzabeth, Queen, 10, 13, 82, 106, 149, 263, 331, 344, 348. Ellis, G., 61. Elphin, 297. Elreton, H., 261. Ely, 191-198, 218, 223, 232. Emma, Lady Hamilton, 159, 316. Eoves, 59. Erasmus, 203, 220. Erdington, 30. Erpingham, T., 336. Eryri, 277. Ethelbert, King, 363, 365. Etheldreda, St., 192. Eton, 170. Etty, W., 236. Evelyn's Diary, 6, 8, 9, 36, 80, 90, 110, 186, 232, 315, 342, 386. Evesham, 59-62. Eyam, 257. Fabyan, 139. Fairford, 64, 70-74. Falstaff, Sir J., 78. Fitz Gerald, Edward, 89, 171, 176, 197, 206, 249, 259, 327, 330. Fosbroke, 378. Framlingham, 320. Froude, J., 193. Fuller, T., 193, 217, 231. Gainsborough, 118, 318, 343. Garrick, D., 94. Gaveston, P., 10. Gedge, P., 350. Gelert, 279-282. Genoa, 11. George V, 334. Germain, St., 364. Gibson, J., 266, 268. Gilbert, Earl of Gloucester, 87. GUdas, 397. Gissing, G., 53. Glastonbury, viii, 121-124. Glendower, O., 277, 291, 304. Gloucester, 64, 89-91. Goch, lolo, 304. Godiva, 37. Godstow, 70. Gog, 138. Gogmagog, 138. Gondomar, 167. Gonzales, M., 168. Gould, G. Baring-, 274. Gosport, 417. Grasmere, 249. Greswold, C, 29. Greswold, R., 29. Gretna Green, 246. Grigg, J., 382. Guarder, R. de, 337. Gundrada, 422. Guy of Warwick, 4, 6, 7, 8, 36. Guy's Cliff, 4. Gwyn, N., 94. Gwynedd, O., 270. Haddon Hall, 254. Hampton Court, 170, 430 Index Harbury, 3. Harlech, ix, 286. Hathaway, Anne, 17, 82. Haydock, 204. Henley-m-Arden, 20. Henry I, 64. Heniyn.376. Henry III, 287, 330. Henry IV, 277. Henry V, 78, 332. Henry VI, 62, 85, 220, 408. Henry VII. 25, 27, 81, 89, 221. Henry VIII, 123, 136, 305, 313, 383, 399, 418, 423, 424. Hentzner, P., 83. Hereford, 91-94. Hennon, Archdeacon, 358. Hogarth, 136. Holmes, O. W., 121, 137, 144, 189. Hotspur, H., 78. Howell, J., 239. Hubert, St., 252. Hugh, Abbot, 352. Hugh, St., 234. Insula, R. de, 346. Ipswich, 315-320. Isle of Wight, 68, 389, 400- 416. Italy, 11. James II, 111. James, Henry, 7, 10, 42, 124, 201, 210, 232, 236, 255, 2£8, 306, 409, 415. Jarvis, S., 110. Jenkins, J. D., 281. Joan of Gloucester, 87. Jocelin of Brakelonde, 352. John, King, 55, 82, 263, 357. Johnson, S., 75, 81, 137, 142, 258, 306, 396. Jones, Inigo, 267. Jonson, Ben, 143. Joseph of Arimathea, 122. Kapiolani, Queen, 333. Keble, J., 72. Kenet, 216. Kenilworth, 1, 2, 4, 11-14. King, Miss E., 227. Kingsley, C, 217, 276, 283. Knut, King, 192. Kyme, J., 421. Lake District, 242-254. Landor, W. S., 39. Lanfranc, 374, 389. Lang, A., 205. Langland, 88. Langton, S., 357. Lapworth, 22. Latimer, 203. Leamington, 1, 2. Leek Wooton, 10. Leland, 72, 90, 292, 295, 306. Leicester, Robert of, 10. Leofric, 39. Leoftanus, 358. Leverett, Mr., 231. Lewes, 420. Lichfield, 258. Lillington, 3. Lincoln, 231-234. Lindsay, Earl of, 35. " Little Women," 78. Liverpool, 395. Llanberis, 274. Llangollen, 292, 299-304. Llanrwst, 267. Llewellyn, 279, 296. London, 133-169; Temple, 52, 136, 219; Westminster Ab- bey, 133, 156; St. Bartholo- mew, 134; Guild Hall, 138; Shepherd's Bush, 160; Ful- ham, 167; Lambeth, 167. Lowell, J. R., 248. Lowestoft, 327. Lydgate, 360. Lyttelton, Lord, 262. Lytton, Bulwer, 417. MacFarlane, 193. Mallory, 182. Malmsbury, W. of, 117. Index 431 Malvern, 81, 84, 86-89. Manners, Lord J., 256. Margaret (Queen), 85, 220. Margoliuth, Dr., 361. " Marianna," 21. Marisco, J. de, 370. Marshall, Emma, 111, 124, 180,187,336,341. Martin, St., 363. Mary Queen of Scots, 239, 241. May, Phil., 55. Mercia, 70. Millet, F. D., 55. Moated Grange, 21. Montfort, Simon de, 60, 62. Montgomery, R. de, 76. Mousehold Heath, 343. Myfanwy, 293, 304. Naseby, 176. Nash, Beau, 106. Nelson, Admiral, 316, 417. Newport, I. of W., 407, 410. Newport, R. I., 3. Norfolk Broads, 329. Northampton, 45-50, 137. Norwich, 331-344. Nunwell, 406. Odo, Bishop, 374. Offchurch, 3, 4. Oglander, Sir John, 406-408. Oily, Robert d', 201. Oman, C. W. C, 213. Order of the Garter, 82. Orpm, E., 118. Osborne, 400, 406. Osyth, St., 312. Ovin, 195. Owen, G., 293. Owen, N., 283. Oxford, 103, 201-21C. Paisley, 247. Palgrave, 136. Paris, Matthew, 217. Paston Letters, 331. " Peeping Tom," 40. Pennant, T., 261. Pennell, J., 140. Penrhyn, Lord, 288. Pepys, S., 264. Perkins Institution, 19. Pickwick, 315, 359. Piers Plowman, 87, 88. Poole, A., 150. Pope, Alexander, 66. Portsmouth, 416. Prichard, D., 281. Pugin, W., 89. Quarr, 408. Raby Castle, 237. .Radford, 3. Ragener, 49. Rahere, 135. Raine, Allen, 94. Rasselas, 137. Redwold, 321. Rhys, Ernest, 287. Richard II, 62. Richmond, 172. Ridley, 203. Robsart, Amy, 12. Rochester, 198. Romsey, 399. Rugby, 44. Rutland, Earl of, 255. Ryde, 400-406, 409. Sahsbury, 186-189; Countess of, 82, 237. Samson, Abbot, 346, 351, 352- 355, 361. Sandown, 410. Saperton, 66. Sargent, J., 55. Satchwell, R., 2. Sayce, Prof., 107. Scott, Sir W., 12, 13, 241, 299. Serjeantson, Rev. R. M., 46. Severn, River, 86, 90, 91. Shakespeare, A., 30. Shakespeare, T., 30. 432 Index Shakespeare, Wm., viii, li- 17, 21, 31, 82, 133, 166. Shakespeare Hall, 30. Shankliil, 409. Shene, 172. Shoreham, 418. Shottery, 17-18. Shrewsbury, 75-78. Sigebert, 346. " Sin Eater," 92. Snowdon, 273-278. Somner, 370, 374, 388. Sopwell, 178. Southampton, 395, 398. Spithead, 411, 416. St. Albans, 177. Stanley, A. P., 301. Stanley, E., 334. Steele, R., 66. Sterne, L., 66. Stephen, King, 90. Stevenson, M., 342. Stow's Chronicle, 8, 147, 150. Stratford, viii, 1, 14-17. Strawberry Hill, 172. Stubbs, Charles, 192. Sugar, John, 29. Surrey, 323. Swinburne, 418. Swindon, 330. Swinford, 104. Taillebois, Lucy, 234. Taliesin, 297. Tame, John, 70-72. Tavemer, R., 204. Tavistock, 132. Tennyson, A., 22, 133. Terry, Ellen, 18. Tewkesbury, 84-86, 88. Thanet, 362, 365. Thetford, 345. Thomey, 226. Tintem, 94r-96. Tintagel, viii, 131. Torpenhow, 241-246. " Tom Brown," 44 Treen, Wm., 3. Trinity College, Dublin, 46. Tudor, Mary, 351. Upton, 3. Ursula, St., 41. Vernon, Dorothy, 255; George, 255, 256. Valle Crucis, 304. Verulam, 177. Victoria, Queen, 410, 416. Victory, The, 416. " Vitae Sanctorum," 46. Voltaire, 142. Wales, 95, 250, 260-306. Walsingham, Alan de, 195. Warenne, J. de, 421, 422. Warham, Archbishop, 380, 382. Warwick the Kingmaker, 8. Warwick, 1-10. Warwick, Countess of, 44. Warwickshire, 3, 5, 10, 22. Washington, George, 58. Washington, Penelope, 58. Watts, Dr., 398. Wells, 123. Wendover, Roger of, 38, 121, 338. Westminster Abbey, 7. Westminster, Matthew of, 60. Westmoreland, 250. White, Gilbert, 205. White Horse Hill, 114. Whiting, Abbot, 123. Whitnash, 3. Whittmgton, Sir R., 139. Wickhamford, 58. Wighelm, 368. William the Conqueror, 76, 201, 217, 234, 236, 338, 422. William Winter, 19. Winchester, 57, 64, 180-186. Windsor, 170. Winifred, St. 77. Wolsey, Cardinal, 320. Index 433 Wood, Thomas, 421. Wooten Wawen, 19. Worcester, 55, 79, 80-84. Wordsworth, Wm., 248, 267. Worsley, Sir R., 407. WroxaU, 30. Wyclif, 202. Wye, The, 86, 91, 94. Wymondham, 345. Wynne, R., 264. Yarmouth, 324, 328. York, 232, 234-236. Zangermeister, 107.