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'"™"\\ . , ^, ^T A ASH log BOW BAZAAR STKKK1. CAl.Cl TTA T '* . 3V A IVl'KAI. »K>^t\ (l.riAl.l-. -:t*'^^^''1Sfe?HJr>^^f^^- .^^^^m!^?^:A^ r*a^ I^eautiful liritain WESSEX PAINTED BY WALTER TYNDALE. DESCRIBED BY CLIVE HOLLAND ROYAL CANADIAN EDITION LIMITED TO 1000 SETS CAMBRIDGE CORPORATION, LIMITED MONTREAL A. & C. BLACK, LONDON mjmmmmmm^^^'^^'^m "^m^ Liii;itLil to i.noi Ciipics of which tiiio i:> sat -TS-/.-4, :^ ^ PREFACE Wessex, which is very largely the county of Dorset, is one of the most interesting and picturesque regions in the south-west of England. Still far behind the times as regards the modern stress and hurry of life, and even also as regards its thought and progress towards up-to-date modernity, it offers unique attractions for the student, archaeologist, and traveller of the old and truer type. The tourist of the more modern kind may perhaps find the district " slow," but of its picturesqueness, and not seldom romantic beauty, there can be no two opinions. Wessex presents a variety of life, character, and scenery which nowadays is all too rare, owing to the levelling-up, or, as some would have it, levelling-down, ■processes of modern times. This portion of England, which Thomas Hardy has so vividly described, to the enchantment of thousands, invites attention and study like some beautiful low-toned picture. In its peacefu' vales it is still possible to forget the town, the fret and fume of city life. What more can a modern pilgrim Preface ,f the thoughtful type desire, when this same ^uietude ,s waided to beauty and much of old-world i„/that portion of southern and south-western K:;.dand which in Saxon times formed the Icngdon. of the West Saxons, almost disappeared from the hn<^ua«e and lost significance, becoming a mere hisrorKal term. hwas left to the E^^^ ^ ^ Wcssex-born novelist and poet, Thomas Hardy, to revive the name in ,874, and by such remcarnat.on to arouse a keen and ever, though slowly, -ncreasmg interest in the " fayre land of Wessex, its people, and its scenery. It is this portion of England that the present volume seeks to describe by means of the pictured and printed pag^-- c. H. BOUKNEMOUIH, 19of'- VI ' *J t %■ CONI ENTS CHAPTER I U'ksskx in British, Roman, and Norman Times PACK I CHAPTKR II Wksskx in Meui^vai., Stuart, and {Georgian Times 21 CHAPTER III Some Towns of East We.ssex 42 CHAPTER IV Some Towns of South Wessex . 71 CHAPTER V SfiMK Towns of North \Ves>ex . 104 CHAPTER VI A CiKoup ok Outer Wessex Towns . 136 m CHAPIER VII I'm. Capital ok Wessex, its History and Romance 167 vii Contents CHAPTER VIII 'I'liF. Stokv ok a Iamous Wksskx Stronghold CHAPTER IX TiiK Storv ok IJath and Winchkster 180 CHAPTER X Thk lorR Skasons in Wksskx . . • • • CHAPTER XI A Famous Fair, and somk Wksskx Types . CHAPTER Xll Somk I.esskr Towns and Vili-aces ok Thomas Hardy's Novels 2;? I 246 256 INDEX 272 wsK V -f ';>■ ^'Ttr-; ^3*:W "yyi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS A Typical Wessex Cottage Frontispiece KAClNt; I'AGK w ey 2. Near Maiden Castle, Dorchester. A scene in the Mayor of Casterbridge .... 3. On the Old Walls of Wareham .... 4. Corfe from the Castle Slopes .... 5. The Gateway at Cerne Abbas. The " Abbot's Cernal of the Novels ...... 6. A Wesse.x Haven 7. A Group of Cottages at Sutton Poyntz, nea mouth ... ..... S. On the Stour ... 9. Bathford, Wilts ...... 10. The Stour : Winiborne Min.ster in the distance . 1 1. Studland Heath : Poole Harbour in the distance 1 2. Westwood Manor House ..... 13. The Broadstone Golf Links, near Poole 1 4. The Saxon Church at Wareham. The " Anglebury " of the Wessex Novels ..... 15. Wareham. The ".Anglebury" of the Wessex Novels 16. Cottages at Stoke ...... 1 7. Portland from the northern shore of Weymouth Bay The " Isle of Slingers " of the Novels . 18. Waterstone House, Dorset. The House of Balhsheba Everdene in /'ar from !h( Maddiii:^ Crowd i.\ 4 10 16 20 24 28 34 40 44 50 58 62 64 70 78 82 86 List of Illustrations ly. A Tithe- liarn, Abbotsbury, near Weymouth. The scene of the sheep-shearing in /i/r from the MaddiN;^ CriKitl ...... 20. Bridport, the " Port Dredy " of the W'essex Novels 21. The Bridport .'Vrms 22. The " Rainbarrow" of the Return of the Xativ(. The "(^)uiet Woman" in middle distance 23. Entrance Gate, Cleeve Abbey .... 24. Long Street, Slierborne. The " Sherton Abbas " of the Wesse.x Novels . . .... 25. Interior of Abbey, Sherborne .... 26. Sherborne College ...... 27. Blackmore Vale from Shaftesbury. A scene in Jude the Obscure ....... 28. A Sa.xon ("hurch in Wessex .... 29. .A Wessex Dairv Farm ..... 30. The .Mmshouses, Corsham. Wilts 31. .\Ielbury Park. "King's Hintock Court" in a (iroup oj .\,ii'/e Dames ...... 32. Dunster Castle and Yarn Market ... 33. The Yard of the Luttrell Arms, Dunster 34. Glastonbury .Abbey ...... 35. Glastonbury Steeple from the Abbey Gardens . 36. The Market- Place, Wells 37. The Palace, Wells 38. The N'icars' Close, Wells. I.ife's Ltttle Ironies "Tragedy of Two Ambitions" (lodgings of Hal borough) ....... 39. P'ordington, Dorchester. Back of Mixen Lane in Tlie Mayor of Casterlrridi^e ..... 40. The Frome above Dorchester (Casterbridge) X 88 90 94 98 102 ;o6 1 10 116 120 124 128 132 134 136 140 144 150 154 160 162 168 170 -^ffK'. ■- r =- ■'•--.■.V.--.--*JS;-,' .,-, List of Illustrations KACIM. r'Af.K ■)1 4-'. 43- 44- 45' 46. 47- 48. 49. 3-' 53- 54- 31 1 ="■ ^ 59- The Atheltiampton Aisle in Pudclletown Church, near Dorchester ........ The Mill and Church at .\ffpuddlc, near Dorrhe.ster. The "East Ef,'don Church" where Yeobripht and Kustacia were married in the Ritiirn of ihc Aaliir NS'oodlands near .Mere, Wilts ..... Puddletown Church ....... Cottage at Tincleton, near Dorchester. The Home of Caroline Aspent, of " The Fiddler of the Keels ' in /.ih-'s IJtt,i Iromes ...... From the Dean's Orchard, Mere, Wilts Castle Combe, North Wilts ..... Corfe Car.tlc from Nine Harrow Down Corfe (rastle from West Street. A scene in The Hand of Etheli'erta Corfe Castle. The " Corve.sgate Castle " of The //ami of Ethelberta ...... EaNt .Street, Corle Castle ..... Hath Abbey and Hump- Room .... 'I he liridge at I'rior Hark, Hath . Claverton .Manor, near Hath .... A Wessex \'illage ..... The Retro-Choir, Winchester Cathedral, with the Ciiantries of Cardinal Heaufort and Hishop Wayn- liete Hine-woods near Bournemouth. .Scene \\\ Itm oj the nUrbervtllei A Wessex Homestead ...... The Frome from Bockhampton Bridge. View from Lower Mellstock Bridge, •'liculicr of the Reels" in l.iji'i /.iltle /r.i/n'ts ...... xi 17- '74 170 I 78 182 186 1 88 192 196 198 200 204 2 12 2I0 220 226 234 3 ■A ,v= List of Illustrations do. Siirinn i" Wcssex ■ • ■ ' ' I ..n^^'xnUnd.rthf Greenwood Trff . • „,Be,' W.». •n,e"K,n„*«e"0f r»./* D'Urbennlles • • C5. The Church at Bere Re.is. " K.ngsbere Church .n Tessofthe D'UrbenilUs ■ ■ ■ ■ ct A fnrner of a Wessex Fair • • ' ^ ' ofthe D'UrberviUei . • • • Wool Manor Hou.. The " Wcllbr.d.e" Manor House in Tess of the D' Urbervilles, the scene of her honeymoon with Angel Clare . ^ • Cokers, Frome : a Typical Dorset Dairy House • Puddleiown. The " Weatherbury " .n Far fro. tke Madding Crowd ■ • • • " " . , ' B.ndon Abbey M.ll. Where Angel Clare proposed to learn milling, Tess of tfu D' Urbervilles^ • • „ Wool. The"Wellbridge"of7W../M.^-^W/« • Lulworth cove. The " LuUstead Cove " in /.. from "■ the Madding Cnn^d, Life's Utile Ironus^. • ,, The Mill Cottages at Sutton I'oyntz, near NVeymouth. The '-Overcome- of r^rr«/«M^a;'"- • 75. Burton Bradstock, Dorset ..••■■ 68. 69. 70. 71- 72- 238 240 248 aSa 254 256 258 260 262 264 2b6 268 270 Map at End ok Volu.me xu \ WESSEX CHAPTER I WESSEX IN BRITISH, ROMAN, AND NORMAN TIMES In Wcsscx remain many memorials of those ancient days when triremes swept across the blue waters of the Channel from too-adjacent Gaul, and landed their invading legions upon the yellow sands of oar --outh- western shores ; and of the time when the piratical Danish galleys, daring much, crossed the bar off sickle- shaped Studland Bay, and swept up the shoal-waters of Poole Harbour to attack the then important town of War'jham. Hiitory is, alas ! almost silent regarding the Wessex of the Roman occupation ; but every now and again, when the new order comes to further replace the old, when the ploughshare is for the nonce driven yet more deeply than its wont into the rich Wessex loam, or when the sinews of those who dig foundations for twentieth-century buildings in soil undisturbed for ages tauten under the strain of their labour, traces of that wonderful age are discovered, from which it I I Wessex i, possihU. for ,h. arch.ol„,« ." » — ' " reconstruct the aca.l p^^^- Stuaiaiui, vvith >ts nu-mor,cs ot ^'^^"^'^^^^^ ^^c lonely majesty Armaaa g^^l>--^' ^;;" ^""^.^e Saxons and Romans ^[/^^^"•^rt'sl^rtHe'^. graves. And at al,ke-sKlc b) J"^^ J. h,„,,th the streets ana One may well ,mag..^ " j^^ ^^„ been Roman occnpat.on rom *■- P"." ^„j (,„„ '■'""' ""'^- 'r:'^c^^ ui ^- <-• ^ »-'• -•'" ornaments, both ^l""'^ » villas a„J pavements a. v,ewn,g the """- r^,/' , '„, ,he d-str,;., conjure un n„,chester an ,n - ^_^^^^ _^^^^^_ ^^^^^ ^^„^„ i;;r :lta thtou,h ,he ^..^ .rom city .0 cty or fron, can.P >o camp. ^_^ j^^(,„„, very „,rnovar,a ot 1^°- , ^^^se latter days ; but, different tron, the ""^;<-, ^^ ,„ ,,,, rays of the - Mr Hardy <'"--';,: '^^^hich rises'and sets '""' ---:?, "td would be interestmg to re- over it now. '^"" , " verv favre .t \f nnlv in imagination, tht very lay r;:Vo::;r\o:r::;bUHeatre, Which lies ,ust \ Poundbury and Maiden Castle outside the present town, now a grass-grown record of the past, and of Roman games ami gladiatorial sports — till the miildle of the eighteenth century the place of pulilic execution. To the north-west is I'oundbury, probably a Danish camp, and stated by Camden to have been the work of Sweyn during the siege of Dorchester at the com- mencement of the eleventh century. But from the formidable nature of the entrenchments it seems possible that Poundbury, at least in part, is yet another relic ot the days when Romar.s dwelt in the land, and their legions needed camps for protective purposes. Maiden Castle, the finest of British earthworks in the south, if not in all Britain, Imt two miles outside the town which has known so many masters, remains an imperishable record of pre- Roman times — a l 1- H Relics of Roman Occupation Clavinium (Jordan Hill, near Weymouih) : and what has not inappropriately been called " the spirit of order," which uid much, not alone to convert a distracted and chaotic district into a prosperous and peaceful one, but also to initiate better dwellings and more commodious and better-planned villages and towns. Sprinkled throughout the countryside were also fine villas of the Roman nobles, serving not only to give a sense of security to those dwelling in the immediate vicinity, but exerting an influence towards culture and art. To these beautiful abodes of the Roman colonists came some of the first missionaries from Gaul, wel- comed by many of the best sons and daughters of Rome who had been left behind to hold the conquered land when some of the conquering legions had been with- drawn on service elsewhere. Throughout Wessex remain memorials, in fragments of walls, pavements and bridges, showing how widesprc; d this occupation was in both its extent and efl^ect. Near Weymouth are two bridges spanning streamlets, over which nowadays the ploughboy and villager pass to and from their work, which fifteen hundred years ago were trodden by the sandal-shod feet of Roman patrician and soldiery. In their still almost perfect arches they provide yet one more example of the truth of Hippocrates' aphorism : " Ars longa, vita brevis." One can imagine, indeed, that the inhabitants of Wessex regarded with profound regret the departure of the Roman legions from their shores m a.d. 436, although many private citizens of Rome remained Wessex behind, as well as merchants, and others who had married into British families. The genms ot John Everett Millais has shown us something ot what that momentous setting forth of the men who had held sway over Britain for a period approximating hve centuries was like. In Millais' picture a background of the coast between Weymouth and St Alban s Head appears ; but it is by no means certain that the legions had their point of embarkation on the Dorset seaboard Indeed, several authorities on this very obscure period of our national history place the spot in Hampshire. Those left behind— those who had for many years abode with a sense of security which the presence of the veteran troops of the conqueror produced, and the order which had arisen out of chaos intensihed— doubt- less heard the tramp of the departing soldiery, and saw the standards and panoply of Roman military power disappear along the roads to the coast, with feelings ot unmitigated dismay. A people with as yet but the crude elements of a nation was left once more to its own resources-it might even be, left as a prey to any foe who might descend either from the east or from the south upon their shores. No more would these shores know the pomp ot Roman circumstance ; no more would Roman galleys sweep across the blue stretch of sea which divided Britain from Caul ; no more would their prows ground upon the sandy shores, and Roman hosts prove stern conquerors may be, but by no means hard taskmasters of the conquered. 6 Saxon Invasion of Wessex Rome and its power, its culture, its magnificent achievements in art and engineering, were gone. The people of Wessex were left face to face with the future, were it to prove grey or golden. Though doubtless fearing much, the British in- habitants of the district, not yet called Wessey, but which, for the purpose of avoiding confusion of sense, we may well refer to as such, were left at peace for a period of four decades ere the landing of Cerdric and Cynric, two Saxon lords, upon the Hampshire coast inaugurated a new era of battle, bloodshed, and conquest. After a decisive victory, or, as is supposed, a series of engagements of varying magnitude, in which they succeeded in making good their possession of the country immediately surrounding Winchester, the invaders' lust of conquest increased, and they marched with their victorious followers westward into Wessex. Their progress was met and barred by a stubborn resistance. The British had learned much from their Roman conquerors both of the arts of peace and the arts of war, and fortunately had preserved their primitive courage, daring, and physical stamina un- impaired by the vices and luxuries of the Roman settlers. So stubborn, indeed, was the resistance offered to these new conquerors that nearly a hundred and twenty-five years were occupied in the subjugation of the south and south-west of England. The record of at least one sanguinary and stoutly fought battle is to be found in the old chronicles, for a mention occurs of the slaughter of upwards of two thousand of the 7 ■:V^. Wessex conquerors, ^l" f >J'™B^ . „h„ ;„ „„,, after kingdom of Wessex. Wessex was However, ere th.s was brought to pass devastated from t,me ^.o t>me, and the Saxon'' P-d ruthless in ^^^^^^ tf^^^Ule their f--""-^^' ;^ ^1^°" i,ation and knowledge of both as regards general cm. ,,„arded with conttmpt the *^^ J ^^i.h the Romans had Cjrer ^ -Mess, ,naeeM .he -ru«^^^^ of these things appear to have been, *e «"" ^Vessex possesses so many ;;*-'°- ^ ^trndlng re":c;::eT: umt::c«:;e d,st„et undoubtedly these aaverse considerable importance, many ^r^TsaTn IgTInaraders hav.ng been buned m O --TP-," ■iSf Early Missionaries in Wessex that portion of it now comprised within the borders of Dorset. The early Saxons did their utmost to extinguish the Christianity which had been introduced by mission- aries during the occupation of the country by the Roman legions. But after a period of nearly a century and a half Christianity was reintroduced by Aidan and a small band of followers ; later they built churches, and throughout the land interesting evidences still survive of their architectural methods, in the buildings and remains of churches which are dotted about the countryside. It would appear that much of the rough material for these came from the ruins of Roman houses and buildings, and not only was Roman materia! used, but to some considerable extent 1-kewise Roman architectural features. In this wild land, deluged with blood, burned and ravaged by internecine wars, torn by constant battles, there was little peace even long after the reintroduction of the Christian faith. But with the coming of St Aldhelm, nearly three-quarters of a century later, the people of Wessex appear to have many of them abandoned Woden worship ; and the foundation of the bishopric of Sherborne, of which ."t Aldhelm became first bishop, in a.d. 705, and of the monastery at Wimborne during the next decade by Cuthberga, saw the purer faith of the missionary bis'iop and his followers firmly established. The coming of the Danes, whose galleys, bound west- ward, swept down Channel past the Kentish and Sussex Wessex coasts, must have struck terror into the hearts of the people of Wessex as they watched them, from promon- tory and hillside, and perhaps from the shelter of the pine-woods along the Hampshire shores, turn coast- wards in search of inlets and creeks ,n which to hnd harbourage and kuuiing-places. Against these marauders of the fourth decade and ensuing years of the nmth century, who threatened not only the liberties but the growing Christian faith of the people, ^thelwulf, and the Christian bishops Swithun of Winchester and Althstanus of Sherborne, waged a heroic and in a measure a successful struggle, in that they were able to drive back the Danish pirates westward beyond the river Parrett. But from time to time the invaders returned, and fresh hordes of them descended upon the sandy beaches of western Hampshire and extreme eastern Dorset. Wareham, of all Wessex towns, seems to have borne the heaviest brunt of their attacks. Well fortified, and possessed of magnificent quadrangular earthworks, it resisted stoutly the savage attacks of those who swept up the harbour from the sea, and beached their galleys in the creeks and shoals of the Wareham Channel The town in which Beohrtric, king of Wessex, lay buried was early in Wessex history a place of importance, and, when it fell into the hands of the Danes, formed an invaluable base from which they were able to conduct military operations and raids into the surrounding country. The rise of Alfred the Great in 871, and his genius 10 ■•% I 'f v:i ()\ nil- 01. [) WAI.I.S OK WAH! HWI I King Alfred and the Danes in the conduct of campaigns against the invaders, initiated a new era of Wessex history. After several battles and many skirmishes the Danes retired to Wareham, followed up by Alfred and his consolidated f(Tces. Here, seeing that for the nonce further resistance to the Wessex chieftain would be disastrous, the chronicles tell us " they (the Danes) swore upon the holy ring that they would speedily depart from the kingdom." But notwithstanding this solemn pledge, Alfred discovered, not by any means for the first time, that the invaders were not to be trusted. They appear to have retained possession of the town for at least twelve months after promising to depart, at the end of which period some set sail in their galleys westward, whilst others appear to have joined the Welsh in the neighbourhood of Exeter, where they were afterwards utterly defeated by Alfred and his army. The sea- going Danes had proceeded but a few miles outside the confines of Poole Harbour when they were " smitten by so mighty a storm of wind " that no less than a hundred and twenty of their vessels were cast away on the rocky coast between Peveril Point, Swanage, and St Alban's Head, or were driven ashore in Swanage Bay. This disaster, however, was not the end of Alfred's struggles with the enemy of his people ; for after he had defeated the combined Welsh and Danish forces on the western borders of his kingdom, and after peace had once again been made, and his followers disbanded to permit ot their return to more peaceful 11 Wessex and profitiiblc avocations, the invaders once more appeared in force at Chippenham. Alfred was com- pelled for a time to retire amid the marshes of Somerset into winter quarters— waiting, doubtless with keen anxiety for the safety of his people, until spring should come to enable him to once again call to his standard the people of Hants, Dorset, Wilts, and Somerset, and marshal them against their perfidious foes. At the battle of Edington the Danes sustained a crushing defeat, and were afterwards compelled to make peace upon Alfred's terms at Wedmore. Alfred, whose great work of freeing the country from the Danish thral is so indissolubly connected with the Wessex of Saxon times, did not, however, rest content merely with victories over the invaders. To him must be ascribed much of the machinery of government, and advancement in the more peaceful arts of building and agriculture, which had eventually so greatlv to do with the supremacy attained by the kingdom of Wessex. Under his wine rule some at least of the chaos and terrorism brought about by the ravaging incursions of the Danes was done away with, and justice, education, and eflFective work in other departments of the life of the people received valuable and lasting stimulus. But by the death o{ Alfred the Great, at the end of the ninth or beginning of the tenth century, was removed the powerful personality which had succeeded as none other before him in keeping the invaders in check. Again Wessex bee;..', the prey of the Danes, Danish Invasion under Canute and at the dawn of the eleventh century Canute, a greater than all before him, entered the Frome with his galleys, and first devastated anti afterwards conquered Wessex, plundering the Abbey of Cerne, and ifter- wards retiring with his spoil to Brcwnsea Island, at the mouth of Poole Harbour. Then ensued a further troubled period of Wessex history. In the absence of Canute, who had been proclaimed king in 1114-5, I-.thelred the Saxon, his precursor, was restored to the throne. He reigned but a couple of years, and was succeeded by his son, Edmund Ironside, who on the return of Canute divided the kingdom with him. Edmund was shortly afterwards slain at Oxford, and Canute, marrying the widow of Ethelred, became possessed of the whole kingdom. Canute the Great reigned over Wessex and the adjoining country for a period of seventeen years, and was succeeded by his two sons, who were in turn succeeded by the son of Ethelred and Emma in 1042. Harold II.'s brief reign had little or no influence upon his kmgdom, and with his death at the battle of Hastings, nine months after his accession, the new era of the Norman Conquest was inaugurated. Through the half-century which we have briefly detailed Wessex underwent no considerable change or vicissitudes of fortune. Some few churches were built, and Christi- anity appears to have spread to contiguous districts • but httle of the life of this particular period wa' recorded. We mus. conclude that the kingdom being in peace, had, so to speak, entered one of the backwaters 13 Wessex t ' of national existence, where history for a time remained stagnant. Few traces remain of the Norman Conquest in Wessex, and of these most are of an ecclesiastical character. Two rained castles of the period, however, remaiti, in the keep of Bow and Arrow Castle, said to have been erected by William Rufus, which stands on a craggy eminence on the eastern side of Portland, and the magnificent fortress of Corfe. That the former was once a place of some considerable strength and importance is evinced by the fact of its having been seized by Robert, Duke of Gloucester, in the reign of Stephen, for the Empress Maud. Corfe, built on a solitary eminence in a gap between the lofty chalk downs of the Isle of Purbeck, must have played a momentous part in Wessex history from the earliest times, when the Celt threw up earthworks upon the crest of the hill. Certain it is that the spot was held successively by the Saxon and the Dane, and ultimately proved a ready-made stronghold for the Norman conquerors — a key to W^essex, and a means of overawing the country round about. One can imagine the almost kingly power which was vested in the Constable of Corfe (in early days known as Corves- gate, a name to be revived by Mr Hardy nearly a thousand years later) in those wild, restless days which immediately followed the coming of William the Nor- man and his "grasping, greedy crew of invaders, both civil and ecclesiastical, who came from Normandy, Gascony, Anjou, Picardy, and Maiiie." Its importance 14 '■il ^:l % Norman Rule in Wessex is clearly evidenced by the names of those who held it, and the numerous privileges which accrued from its ownership— rights of forestry, veinson and the chase, tolls from the fishers of the coast and streams, and tithes from the fruits of the rich land surround- ing,— all of which were enjoyed and enforced by the early governors of Corfe. Then for a time the history of Wessex as well as that of Corfe Castle becomes obscure, although kings and nobles hunted in the chases, and dwelt for more or less brief periods amidst the hills and vales of the beautiful district. But if history was at a standstill as regards Wessex, the life of the people is more or less discoverable from' an investigation of the various Exchequer Rolls, and similar sources of information. From these it would appear that a period of peaceful industry had come to pass— a time in which the primeval forest, so far as It was not required for game-preservation and for other purposes by the Norman lords who held the lands, was gradually brought under cultivation. The life of the people of Wessex at this period must have been very similar to that of all the villages throughout England; because, although that of different villages and towns might differ somewhat in small particulars, a strong family resemblance is always traceable in the records and other sources of informa- ^on which we have of country life in medieval times. Then, strange as it may appear, the villages enjoyed much greater independence of government than later, Wessex and even at the present time. There were few acts of he supreme Ixg.s ature in any way relating to village scvcs The lord of the manor tried a- cnminals. and the pnests and afterwards rectors looked after eccles,ast,cal offences and affairs. This, true of England generally, was true also of Wessex, and though ^here ex,sts evdence that sometimes things wert badly managed, the villagers at least had this satisfaction t^a^ no one was to blame save themselves, and that ;hat- ever was done was not, generally speaking, at the behest of some far-away central authority, often ignorant of the local needs which had to be met In the first two or three centuries which ensued after the Norman Conquest the position of villeins and cottiers changed very materially ; the former gradually became free tenants who had their own land and paid ren to the lord of the manor, whilst the ktter gradual y became enfranchised from the labour of servitude, and worked for wages like the agricultural labourer. In some of the account-books which have been left behmd by long-dead ancestors of the Wessex folk of the present time, we find that land about the middle of the thirteenth century and for a long period fterwards was valued at sixpence per acre-rL^and, turned in many ; laces for the first time in its history bJ plough and spade, and from which crops possibly never again equalled were obtained. In those days the land was ploughed three times a year, and the labourer went forth in the pure air of early dawn and returned home t6 (IIKKK KlioM IHK (Asll.K sl.ol'ts Wessex in Norman Times before sunset after a long day's toil. The ploughing seasons were autumn, April, and midsummer ; and in the Wessex meads and upon the hillsides teams of oxen drove straight, clean cuts into the soil, from which in good years an abundant harvest was extracted. Women helped ill the harvesting, and even with the ploughing, ami an old chronicler describes the scene of a farmer's wife "stalking short -coated and with bare feet alongside the ox team, goad in hand." Although pigs and poultry were much in evidence upon the Wessex farnis of mcdix'val times, the chief source of the farmer's wealth was sheep, which roamed the hills and vales almost at liberty, called homeward only occasionally, or when required for shearing, that their rich fleeces might be sent to Ghent and Bruges for weaving into the famous makes of Flemish cloth. Year by year the prosperity of the village life in rural England increased, and in times of peace nothing was feared save two calamities — a bad harvest, and the pestilence which so often swept through the length and breadth of south-western England, imported from the Continent in goods, or brought thence by some traveller or returning pilgrim. In the days of which we write, in Wessex, when free from pestilence and the af^ictions of drought, there were indeed golden times for eve", the poorest, for labour was plentiful, wages were high, and most things required for food cheap. A fat pig was to be bought for threepence, and prime beef for a little more than a farthing a pound. There was ulso throughout this period of tranquillity, 17 2 f Wessex ami tlirouijhout that of the French w;irs, when only dim echoes of kingly struggles came filtering through the Wessex v.iies, a large amount of gaiety and merriment. Then men were not so greatly hurried in the race tor wealth as they now are. The Church gave many holidays in the course of the year, and what with May-day festivities, Plough Mondays, Fiock- tide and Shrovetide sports, harvest homes, fairs, and "ales," the inhabitants of" the villages huii plenty of amusement, and their lives could certainly,if peaceful and uneventful in the larger sense, not be described as dull. Along the big high-roads from the west would also come parties of pilgrims on their way to the shrine of Thomas a Becket at Canterbury, or to Holywell, London. .-Vnd although the pilgrims were supposed to be occupied by religious duties, they c.-rtainly were not as a geneial rule of very sad or serious visage or demeanour. Markets and fairs, very similar to those prevalent but three or four decades ago in Wessex, began to prove, as they remained for hundreds of years, a means of communication and knowledge and amuse- ment to the townsfolk where they were held and people from the surrounding country. To these, after a while, came merchants from the larger cities, from south- eastern England, and also from the Continent ; and thus into the life of Wessex of those days crept a knowledge of the arts, progress, and doings of the outside world which otherwise it would have lacked. One old writer speaks of this period of tranquil progress and undisturticd calm as one " when men were i8 Work of the Monasteries more interested in the cultivation and tilling of the earth, the ingathering of the crops, and to live at peace with their neighbours than in anytliing outside " — .i happy state of things which was only disturbed at intervals by events insefiarable from the growth of the nation at large. Then came the terrible catastrophe of the IMague of 1348, which swept from shire to shire, carrying death and ruin in its course, sparing none, visiting the manor, cottage, and abbey alike. Various estimates of the per- centage of mortality exist, ami they are all terribly high. It appears likely, however, that seven or eight tenths of all the population was silently and remorselessly swept away. "The liead," says one account, " lay by the wayside as they fell, with no man to give them burial. Birds of prey picked their bones ; beasts, tempted, fed upon them, and in turn died. Monasteries were be- sieged by the stricken, but help, though forthcoming, was often inefficacious. In some towns no man passed along the street from sunrise to sunset. High-roads were deserted, and became as byways through forest wilds." In VVessex the plague was not less virulent than in other parts, and for many years afterwards large towns lacked half the inhabitants to fill them. Long before the devastation, however, the religious life of Wessex had received a great incentive by the establishment of numerous monasteries and abbeys throughout its length and breadth — amongst them Malmesbury, Ucoc!;, Monckton Farleigh, and Braden- stoke in Wilts ; Sherborne, VVimborne, Milton Abbas Cerne, Abbotsbury, Ford, and Bindon in Dorset ; and 19 lym r • - I Wessex Glastonbury, Cleve, Hinton, Charter-House, Muchel- ney, Taunton, Stavordale, and Woodspring in Somerset. Here, amid the beautiful scenery so generally chosen by monastic founders for their institutions, lived and died in quietude and peace many sons and daughters of Wessex whose names, unknown to general fame and history, live only in old chronicles and monkish records, as known in their time for deeds of " fayre charitye and benevolence." During the Wars of the Roses Wessex lay undis- turbed by the convulsion which troubled the Midlands and North, save for the visit of Margaret of Anjou, who landed at Weymouth after the battle of Barnet on April 14, 1 47 1, with a party of mercenaries for the reinforcement of Warwick, only to learn that the " King- maker" had been slain, and her hopes frustrated. She was received on her landing by one of the most dis- tinguished of Wessex's sons, John Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury and a Cardinal of Rome, who, on learning of the disastrous defeat of the Lancastrians at Barnet, conveyed Margaret and her young son to sanctuary in the Benedictine monastery at Cerne Abbas. Only far-off echoes of that troubled period of English history, when England was torn by the rival factions of York and I^ncaster, appear to have reached Wessex. This western portion of the land seems to have taken but little part in the battles which deluged central and northern England with the blood of her best nobles and sons, although doubtless some Wessex men must have fallen in the struggle which ended with the triumph of Edward IV. at Tewkesbury on May 4, 1471. 20 m fjSrr THK UA1'K'VA\ XV 'KRV.-; ABB.\^ Thi- ' AI.IkH ~ ConiAl nf tlu .\..v.-l- g i I 1 CHAPTER II WESSEX IN MEDIitVAL, STUART, AND GEORGIAN TIMES Seeing that in Wesscx there were many rich abbeys and monasteries, it is not to be wondered at that, when the time came for the suppression of the religious houses by Thomas Cromwell in Henry V III. 's reign, there ensued a period of disturbance and even of dismay in Wessex, as well as in other parts of the country. For many years, as there were no poor-laws, workhouses, or hospitals, the dwellers in these religious foundations, scattered throughout the length and breadth of the country, had oeen the only means by which those who suffered from poverty, sickness, or privation could gain relief. The attitude of the monks, speaking generally, towards the poor was well summed up by St Bernard in his words : " The friend- ship of the poor constitutes us the friends of kings, but the love of poverty makes kings of us." It is certain that until abuses crept into these institu- tions, which in a measure led to their dissolution in the latter years of the first half of the sixteenth century, 21 i Wessex 1^ \l i the monks rendered many services not only to the poor but to the advancement of learning and knowledge. All men were welcomed into their ranks, poor as well as rich, for all men were equal who wore the monk's robe. From the monasteries of Wessex, as from those in other parts of the country, were sent forth works of erudition — of history, of criticism ; and records of the doings of their own times were kept with great fulness, and these were stored in libraries, and happily in some instances have been preserved to assist the historians of modern times. The libraries of these monastic foundations were rich not only in printed and written pages, but also in treasures of beautiful illumination and bindings ; and when in 1539 an Act of Prrliament was passed to put an end to the greater monasteries, as had already been done with the smaller, the religious houses of Wessex were plundered with the same completeness that characterised the work of Cromwell throughout the south ci England. And although his unscrupulous agents were forced in many instances to report that they cuuld find nothing against the conduct of the institutions they were sent to suppress, the work went on, because, in the words of the despoilers, " the monks would do evil if they could." Thus through- out the countryside noble buildings, distinguished for their beauty of design, and architecture, and situation, were despoiled and given over to ruin and destruction. Throughout Wessex there remain in most instances 22 Wessex and the Armada only the veriest fragments of these magnit^cent institu- t.ons^ wh.ch, although rich enough to tempt the cupidity of Henry VIII. and Cromwell and his satellites, were scarcely too rich, when one comes to consider the wide spread chanty they often dispensed. On their de struct.on the property went to the King, who founded a few new bishopries out of the proceeds, but spent most of the money upon his own pleasures and gratification rhe surrounding lands, distinguished for their wonder- ul and complete cultivation, were given away to his favourites or sold for small sums to the new nobles • and >n VVessex, as in other parts, many of them eventua'I- passed into the hands of laymen, who by this means founded fami les which rose rapidly in wealth and importance. In Dorset and other parts of Wessex may be traced ,n many of the families of the nobility of the I^es^t^day their rise from this period of plunL^ A century passed away from the death of the last of he Yorkist kings ere Wessex again looms ,n nation! h story, as actively and gallantly assisting to defj^c^ the southern coast from the attack of thf threate ig Spanish Armada. Scarcely a fishing hamlet along itf shores but contributed in specie or men to the fi tml out or ma,,n,ng of Lord Howard's, Drake's and Probishcr-s fleet, whilst the seaports of 'weymou 'h and Ijyme Regis provided both "considerable" ship and mn the former "six bigge shippes and men toman them and t e latter two ships and ninety men. Then was ^ essex in a ferment. The trained bands 23 r -G^ m % Wessex were mustcrt-d, and couriers from the far-off metropolis swept along the roads westward with dispatches for the Admiral -f the Fleet at IMyniouth, Lord Howard of KfFinghan., or for the magistrates and sheriffs of the counties of Hants, Dorset, and Devon, urging them to vigilance and organised resistance. And then when at last news of the setting forth of Philip of Spain's proud armament reached them, the people of the inland towns and villages, journeying along high-roads and across country, came to the coast and stood upon the cliffs of Devon and Dorset, and with anxious eyes gazed out across the sunlit waters for the coming of the foe. " For many days," says an old writer of the time, " they watched in vain, till on the morning of Sunday, luly 2 1, 1588, the great fleet of ships came in sight of Plymouth, sailing slowly up the Channel towards the French port of Calais." Although not daring to attack the Armada at once with his handful of ships, among which were the GclJen Lion, Galleon, Sutton, Expedition, Catherine, and Heath Hen, furnished hy Weymouth, Lord Howard set off from Plymouth in pursuit ; and when off Lyme the first serious engagement between the two fleets took place, " in sight of a mightie multitude of people " gathered upon " the high rocky hille " above the town. And a like crowd gathered upon the rock-strewn slopes of Portland, and the hills opposite Weymouth Bay, to watch the huge galleons surging eastward "like baited bulls, with the tiny English warships worrying them to destruction." 24 m: J ■t % \ i A w^;>^KX havkn 1 •»■,,, In Elizabethan Times A few days later one- of the huge Spanish ships was brought a prize into I'ortlatul roadstead amid scenes of triumph and rejoicing. Several other galleons were, so tradition tells, wrecked along the coast between Weymouth and Swanage, and one filled with treasure drove ushorc in Studland Bay. After the Armada terrors Wessex returned to its quiet and usual state of rural simplicity of life ; and only vague rumours can have penetrated of the plots and counterplots which troubled the later years of the great Queen's reign, and the opening ones of her successor. Nor, apparently, did much of the religious trouble arising in Elizabeth's last years intluence the life or fortunes of the western portion of her dominions. Many Wessex men served in the various expeditions undertaken against Spain during the years immediately preceding the destruction of the Armada, and not a few sailed far westward to that new world, the northern fringe of which had four years before the coming of Philip of Spain's galleons been settled by Sir Walter Raleigh's colonists. But although during the forty years which came immediately after the death of Elizabeth only faint indications were seen in Wessex of the coming storm, when it broke, and King and Parliament were in arms against one another, the district was, as it proved, destined to play no unimportant part in the struggle. Wessex as a whole declared for the Parliament, al- though some few towns and portions of the countryside surrounding them were Royalist in their sympathies. 25 Wessex Throughout the length and breadth of the fair district of Dorset and its outskirts came Roundhead and Royalist troops, skirmishing and fighting. Obscure villages were startled out of their almost immemorial quietude by the passing to and fro of soldiery, who avoided the high-roads for strategic reasons ; and men were called suddenly and only half-knowingly to serve either the King or Parliament, as best fitted in with the political sympathies of the lord of the manor on which they dwelt. By night and by day Wessex roads and village streets rang to the tune of passing troopers' feet, or the sharper note of bodies of mounted men. Lyme Regis early declared for the Parliament, and was successfully defended against the siege operations of Prince Maurice from April 20 until relieved on June 15, 1644, by the approach of the army of the Earl of Essex. In this historic siege the defenders are stated to have lost less than 150 men, although suffering great hardships and being frequently compelled to resist fierce assaults by the troops of Prince Maurice and Lord Talbot, who numbered some six thousand. The besiegers lost in killed and disabled nearly one- third of their forces, and were compelled to retire precipitately on the approach of the Parliamentary army of the West. A not unquaint s 'e-light, showing how highly the Parliament esteemed the stout resistance of the men — aye, and the women — of Lyme, is thrown by the vote of a gratuity of /iiooo and 3 1 i pairs of shoes, with othci- things, to the inhabitants. The bravery of the women 26 III 'mw- -:«.v-4>y. :-,--, »,■ The Civil War in Wessex of Lyme became a household word, and it is recorded that a yci;ig girl, whose hand was shot off, declared that she was not alone willing to lose her hand, but even her life, in the cause of liberty. Weymouth, held at first for the King by Lord Caernarvon and Prince Maurice, afterwards fell into the hands of the Parliament, and was successfully retained, although subjected to a siege lasting nearly three weeks. Blandford was attacked and plundered by the Royalists under Colone; ydenham ; Dorchester was fortified for the Parliament, surrendered to the King's, forces, under the command of ti,. Earl of Caernarvon, and was afterwards retaken by the Roundheads under the Earl of Essex, and occupied by Cromwell ; Sherborne was held for the King by the Marquis of Hertford against the Earl of Bedford, and was taken by General F'airfax on his victorious progress in the West ; Shaftesbury also played no inconspicuous part in the Civil War, being held for King and Parliament by turn. The famous siege of Corfe is referred to elsewhere ; it has passed into a wider history than merely that of Wessex, and has bee.-- made the central idea of various romances and verse from the period of the siege down to the present day Although in the county of Dorset itself only skirmishes took place, some authorities speak of the conflict of Hamildon Hill, which stands some eight miles south of Shaftesbury, as a battle. It took place on August 4, 1645, between the countr>- folk, who, enrolled as Clubmen, espoused the Royalist cause, and Wessex a Parliamentarian force of about looo dragoons, under the command of Cromwell himself. The leaders of the Clubmen had met two days before at Shaftesbury to devise a plan by which the siege of Sherborne might be raised. Their leaders were captured and the con- ference broken up by a detachment of Roundhead horse sent from Sherborne for the purpose, under the command of Colonel Fleetwood. These latter were attacked by some 10,000 of the Clubmen, who succeeded in rescuing their leaders, and then retired to Hamildon Hill, a lofty eminence well adapted for the purpose of a rally. Here they were discovered by Cromwell, who was marching on Shaftesbury. No better or more brief and vivid account of this Dorset battle could be given than in the words of the great Protector himself. He wrote : " They refused to submit. The passage (the road to the camp where the Clubmen were) not being for above three abreast kept us out ; whereupon Major Desborow (Major- General Desborough) wheeled about, got in the rear of them, and did some small execution upon them. We have taken about three hundred of them, many of which are poor silly creatures, whom if you please to let me send home, promise to be very dutiful in time to come, and ' will be hanged ' before they come out again." From a contemporary writer it would appear that the number of prisoners was some 450, of whom half were wounded ; the killed between 60 and 70 ; and the muskets captured some 600, with 12 white 28 t;^;>.,-';^!i-,:'.- r^'^ •'Jfi.S;'^ -rs ;.t^. .. , -J^,.?f >'y^V>-.'_.--=»r;fJ-.7^ 'W^W^^W^ A c:Kun. „^ .uiiauk. ai sitiov i-ovv,/. vtAK wkvmomh t:\% i Charles II. in Wessex standards. Amongst the prisoners were four rectors and curates. Upon the side of the Roundheads, Major Pattison and twelve troopers were killed. It would appear, although Mr Bravel, Rector of Compton, who was in command of the Clubmen, was a Royalist, the country folk themselves " possessed no clear idea as to whom they were for," but looked upon any troopers as their natural foes. This was the sole engagement of note in Dorset itself, but on the out- skirts of the county were fought several severe ones. During the Protectorate Wessex appears once more to have sunk into a state of tranquillity, from which it was not to be aroused for a period of nearly forty years. Romance it had in plenty, for did not Charles II. seek its protection after the battle of Worcester, and, fleeing to the West, find refuge in Trent Manor House, near Yeovil, whilst maturing his plans for escape to the Continent ? Whilst he lay hidden at Trent, communi- cation was had with one Limbry, the master of a small coaster at Lyme Regis, who consented to convey the fugitive from Charmouth Roads across to France. On the night that was arranged for the embarkation, the wife of Limbry, having her suspicions as to the identity of the passengers that her husband had agreed to convey across Channel, locked him in his room, fearful lest the pains and penalties she had read would befall those aiding Charles to escape should fall upon them. The King, frustrated in his attempt, took horse for Bridport, disguised as a servant, and after having been recognised made his way back to Trent, where, with 29 ^?: Wessex Lord Wilmot and other Royalist fugitives, he had already been harboured by the owner, Colonel Wynd- ham. After many perilous escapes from identification and capture, Charles in the end sailed from the Sussex coast to l-'rance and safety. The next occasion on which Wessex events were destincii to lie of historical importance was thirty-four years after Charles II. had been a fugitive with a price upon his head along the Dorset coast. On a bright June day, the eleventh of the month, in the year 1685, a small fleet of three vessels hove in sight ofl^ Lyme Regis, and at eight o'clock of that day, James, Duke of Monmouth, landed with some sixty- two adherents and a small body of troops on the Cobb. Thus began one of the most romantic and tragic episodes of Wessex history. The Duke immediately proceeded to the market-place, and there set up his standard, causing a proclamation to be read to those assembled. Afterwards "the royal adventurer" and his stafl^took up their quarters at the fine old gabled George Inn (which remained standing till its destruction by fire in 1844), where they remained till fune 14. Not only did the news of the Duke's landing quickly spread through the surrounding country, but It reached London within thirty-six hours, the Mayor of Lyme having, immediately .he ships had appeared oH the Cobb, sped from the town, and sent the news post-haste to Westminster. The Duke was received with unbounded enthusiasm, flags waved in Lyme, and even the school-children 30 •*!, M The Landing of Monmouth crowded next day to acclaim h,m, by wh.ch time "early one hundred young n.en of the town had cnl.sted under his banner. By the n.ght of the san e day h.s force had .ncreased to n,ore than .000 foo" a upwards of ,50 horse. ,nany gentry com.ng to jom h,n>--among these, Colonel Joshua Churchill Captam Mathews, Mr Thomas Hooper, MrT^e and Mr HewHng. The town was abl'a.c wi h'f, -' reilgio^ ! •"" ^ ^"""""'^ ' T^^ ^^-t-tant Daniel'rf '' I"'" ''' ''^" ''"'"^ ^" '^^ ^-" one IJan.c Defoe, then twenty-four years of age who was dcstmed to greater immortal.ty, as au'th'or of Roi,:„so„ Crusoe^ than even the ill-fSed master he crved throug many perilous days and adve Uures I^Uo the town from far and near came vast numbers of men. armed w,th weapons of all sorts, but few with guns, to the number of upwards of , r,ooo-« mo7 - - are told, "than could be received, for lack of the wherewthal w.th which properly to arm them ' ine action of Greporv AIfV,r) »u ^/I progr„, _ „,„,,i,„,j ,V,onn,„„,h's advance ' 31 Wesscx on Monday, June .5, ^"^^ r'-"^^-*^^^^^^ ^" Axminster. Of cavalry he had little save the country toik mounted upon horses and ponies taken from off the land, and a handful of gentlemen adherents upon their own horses. Except that here and there a '-'v recruits came to his standard, and some of the m^re substantial of the farmers and veomc n professed sympathy with his cause (a sympathy which, though it took no more solid form tha.i words', was to cost most of them dear), his march was shorn of all triumph, save at Taunton, and even marked by desertions. In a word, his followers were ill-dad, ill-armed, and by no means fit to cope with the forces which were speedily being arrayed against them. From Shepton Mallet the rapidly diminishing army marched on July i to Wells, and thence to Bridge- water, where they were met by a deputation from Taunton, praying that Monmouth would not return again to that town, which was already beginning to suffer for having received him so enthusiastically a week or two before. From this point, including the march towards Bridgewater and the double back to Sedgemoor, nothing but disaster and discouragement attended the Duke. The King's forces, under Lord Feversham, after somewhat irregular and ineffectual attempts to get in touch with Monmouth, now lay mostly at Sedge- moor, and it was decided by the Duke's counsellors to attack them by night. One Richard Godfrey was sent to discover the number and disposition of Lord 32 Scdgemoor Fcvcrsham's troops, and returned with a true but sadly incomplete report. He stated that they were not entrenched, but he had somehow or other omitted to learn that a deep rhine or great drain, " the water in it about two feet, hut the ^ud eiuugh to drown a man," lay across the track h\ which Mon nouths men must advance. This omission of Godfrey's (he was not a traitor, as stated by some authorities, but merely a blunderer and ur. bservant, whi.h is sometimes as bad or worse) cos' t'-e Duke the battle. The two opposing forces were, according to several contempomry accounts, practically equal in numbers, and although I cversham's force was the better armed, there was the co.mterbalance of a night surprise, had it not been for the rhine. The attack of the Duke's horse failed, and the infantry, eventually finding themselves outflanked, broke and Hed. Then, at daybreak or -,oon after, ensued one of the most relentless pursuits and series of massacres in cornfield, barn, and coppice under hedges and in ditches, which, only equalled by the bloody work of the infamous Jeffreys a few weeks later, ever disfigured the records of regular troops. On the field of Sedgemoor itself and in the immedi- ate neighbourhood at least 1200 of the unfortunate followers of "the Protestant Duke" were slain. Monmouth himself was now a fugitive, nunted from wood to wood, from hedgerow to hedgerow, from one hiding-place to another. Sheltered by the kindly, hiding by day and travelling hy night, he hoped to reach some point on the coast from whence he could 33 3 Wessex 1 t.ikc flight to the Continent. His route was so devious that for many months after his capture the authorities were unable to trace it. From Sedgemoor the Duke and his party fled northwards to Bristol, reaching a spot within twelve rjiiles of the city ; and then by various turnings and twistings they arrived at Gillingham, from whence they proceeded to Shaftesbury. Their ol)jective was Lymington, where Colonel Dore, who had pro- claimed the Duke, had promised to provide a vessel by means of which the party should escape to France. One Richard Hollyday acted as guide, and endeavoured to reach the New Forest by way of Cranborne Chase, and the more deserteii roads of that part of the country. At the Woodyates Inn, about ten miles from Shaftes- bury, the Duke disguised himself as a shepherd ; and then, after turning their horses loose and hiding saddles and bridles, the small party of fugitives proceeded eastward on foot. Meanwhile Lord Lumley, who was posted with troops at Ringwoovl, heard of the defeat at Sedgemoor and the flight of the Duke. He promptly sent ofF numbers of scouts in all directions, with the result that, early in the morning of July 7, a party of these, riding near Holt Lodge, a few miles distant from Wimborne, saw and surprised at the cross-roads two strangers, and arrested them as suspects. They proved to be Lord Grey and Hollyday, the guide. The scent had thus become hot, and Sir William Portman, being apprised of the fact, sent his followers to aid in scouring the surrounding district, in the hope 34 r -^J**^ A^^K ::^''' r 0\ IHK sroiK -■f*r> ff -..Z^- '-^y :i?t«_.- ; ^^^.-.\.>,v'^':-ve:v\:?i^;-/ ?- Monmouth's Capture of capt.nng the Duke himself. A poor woman named Amy or Anna Warrant directed Lord Lumley to a hedge over wh.ch she stated she had recently seen two men escape. In the .mmediate neighbourhood there was much enclosed ground, overgrown by bracken and small trees. Th,s was sur-ounded by a cordon of troopers and of Sir William Portmans' followerrand he search for the fugitive began in systemat.c earnest, .t h vmg been agreed between Lord Lumley and Si W,l ham that m the event of the discovery and capture Jc^% fu- '^' "blood-money," amounting to ^5000 for " h,s takmg alive or dead," should be divided between their respective followers. It is a notable fact that the family of Farrants, after he betrayal speedily fell into extreme povert/^ and d.ed out, the cottage in which Amy Farrant lived tal mg mto decay and having an evil reputation through- out the ne,ghbourhood-a judgment, many thought upon the famdy for betraying the unfortunate Duke The Duke and Busse, one of his followers,' a Brandenburger, managed to elude pursuit all day • but about cght o'clock next morning Busse was dis- covered, and upon examination (and some authorities hint at torture) he admitted that he had ' .ft the Duke but a few hours before. That he betrayed h,s companion ,s scarcely to be doubted, as he was par- doned on December 30, ahhough guilty of active revolt against King James ; whereas many who had not even been -.„thin sight of the Duk.'s forces were ruthlessly slaughtered or sent to the plantations as slaves. Wessex The unfortunate fugitive was discovered hiding amidst the bracken in the north-eastern portion of the enclosure, which was then known as the " Island," now as Woodlands I'arni. His discoverer was one Henry Parlins, a servant of Samuel Rolles, Esq., who, upon Monmouth making as though to resist capture, called out and summoned to his assistance two Sussex froopers. The wretched prisoner was conducted to Holt Lodge, the home of the Ettricks, hard by, and was (.ommitted by Anthony Ettrick, a magistrate. Upon the Duke's person Sir William Portman found various honks and papers. Amongst the former was a MS. ot spells, charms, and recipes, songs and prayers m the Duke's handwriting, most of which had reference to preservation from harm in battle. Monmouth and his companions remained at Ring- wood for a couple of days, lodging at a house just on the townward side of the bridge, from whence he wrote his letters of appeal both to the King, the Queen, and to the h'.arl of Rochester, whom he had knowti in former years at Charles II. 's court. The letter to the Queen was a piteous effusion, couched in .mything but dignified la;.-uage ; and, indeed, the whole tenor of the letter^ written from Ringwood was such as did the writer httle credit — although, as a contemporary diarist says, " some excuse must be found in the low state and condition of the Duke both in mind and body when captured, he not laving had one full night's rest since his landin The " Bloody Assize ?> at r,yme. from Ringwood the unhappy prisoner passed out ot Wessex, leaving behind him his devoted adherents ' ^c■rally to reap the whirlwind The "Bloody A^-ve" : almost the onlv other historical event in wh,.,, the mstorv of Wessex impinges upon that of the nation. Elsewhere some of fhe results of ^he ruhlessacts of revenge taken by James 11. in Wess .are referred to, in descriptions of districts and towns ,n which the tof place. Here ,t is only neces^ary to give a brief picture of the passing of the storm .cross the face .f the " fayre land of Dorset " as It .s described by a contemporary writer. The infamous Jeffreys whole progress throughout the West might have been traced by the carnage he left behi nd him. " Every tower .end steeple was set round with the heads of traitors. Wherever a road divided a gibbet served for an index ; and there was scarcely a hamlet, however obscure, to which one limb at least was not sent, that those who survived might never lose sight of their departed friends, nor the remembrance of their crime or punishment." Under the scourge of Jeffreys' unbridled passion and cruelty the beautiful land of Wessex was made literally to run with blood. " He made all the West an Aceldama; some places quite depopulated, n>,d nothing to be seen in 'em but forsaken walls, L.nlucky gibbets, and ghostly carcases. Nothing could be iker Hell than al! those parr<- ; nothing so l,ke the iJevil as he." In the wooded vales, upon the uplands, by lush i7 ^ ^>^l Wessex mead, along the high-roads winding from town to village and again to town, at market cross and cross- roads, were evidences, in mangled bodies and burnt-out homes, of the tender mercies of the cruel. And craven James, who three years later was to flee from the kingdom, conveyed his approbation to his instruments for the slaughter and devastation wrought in his name, and specified in a warrant issued to sheriffs of the counties the horrible customs (even to the tarring of the dismembered bodies after quartering) which were to be gone through. With the landing of William of Orange at Torbay in November 1688 a period of peace and undisturbed if not remarkable progress prevailed in Wessex. What has been justly called the Reign of Terror was slowly but surely forgotten, and the life of Dorset and the contiguous counties resumed its placid character. People in time forgot the nightmare horror of 1685 ; and, although " the ghostes of those slayne and set up at cross-roads and gibbeted upon the downs still were said to walk, to the terror of persons afoot after night- fall," the quiet country life, only marked by spring, summer, autumn, and winter — of seedtime and harvest and purely loc^l events, was once more resumed, and continued uninterrupted. The next great happening which stirred Wessex was of a very different nature, and was attributable to the revival of religion brought about by the Wesleys. It was to the little village of Preston, near Wey- 38 The Wesleys in Wessex mouth, that John Wesley, the elder, the grandfather of the great John Wesley, came when deprived of his living owing to his refusal to subscribe to the Act of Uniformity. In ,743 Charles Wesley, on the road from CornwaJl to London, broke his journey at Bndport, and this visit may be said to have been the commencement of the Methodist revival in Wessex The itinerant preachers who were soon found journeying through the district, and their converts, met with much persecution, and were at first literally, as was the One whom they sought to serve, " despised and rejected of men." But the new faith spread, and, humble though the originators of it were they proved true servants of the Gospel they preached, and their influence upon the poorer classes of ^\cssex was far-reaching, and accomplished much lasting good. Many a romantic story could be told of conversion of not only the placid-lived labourers inland, but of the wilder spirits of the coast fishing hamlets— men who combined with ostensible fishing the less reputable and lawless occupations of smuggling and even wrecking. Throughout the length and breadth of the land the wave of revival spread, and in many a chapel register and minute-book are to be found evidences of the influence that the Wesleys and their tours of ministration exercised upon the people and their lives. The district was not free from anxiety during the scare which the possibility of invasion from " Boney " 39 3 - • ";.iS.;- Wessex causeil throughout the whole of the south and south- western counties. Once more the roads of Wessex rang beneath the hoofs of large bodies of cavalry, and Wessex dust rose in thick clouds beneath the feet of marching regiments of foot bound coastward to Weymouth, where the troops encamped upon the hills to the north-east of the town, " to the gratifica- tion and interest of all the townsfolk, their wives and daughters." Beacons were erected upon the cliffs and the higher inland hills from Beachy Head to Start Point, and those of Dorset were not less numerous than of neighbouring counties. " Sometimes," says a con- temporary writer, " these would become ignited by accident, or by the fright of their tenders, and the whole countryside would be thrown into a ferment of terror, with the militia and yeomen a-gallop, and the villagers a-tremble lest the French should have landed on the none too distant coast." Of the Wessex of to-day one may in a measure write as little altered from those stirring times of the first quarter of the last century. Progress, of course, there has been ; but it has not destroyed the old-world charm of scenery almost unspoiled by modern buildings in the villages, or by too numerous and insistent railway lines. The placid life goes on in the hamlets and vales of Wessex, the dialect remains almost un- alloyed by modern phraseology, and types such as then walked and laboured on farm and upland downs, sowing and reaping crops, tending sheep and cattle, are still existent. 40 ■ i> • TV Vl l-^'t»S& *->-"•*%* BAIHIOKD, WILIS /- 5*c-==,--±== , -=- -h.^ MICROCOPY RESOIUTION TEST CHART 4NSI a^a ISO TEST CHART No 2 1.0 '^"- I.I IIIIM I 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.25 jj ■ mil 1£ IIIIIJA -^ APPLIED ifVMGE Inc i' The Wessex of To-day At sunset and at dawn the familiar noises of farm- yard and byre, which time leaves unaltered, come to the wanderer in Wessex across the fertile "vale of the great dairies," and stir to life in one's imauination scenes not only from the Wessex of romances and novels, but from that of the past. J 4» I CHAPTER ill SOME TOWNS OF EAST WESSEa The larger towns of Wesscx seem to group themselves naturally into those of the eastern, western, southern, and northern parts of the district ; and in many instances the towns in these particular groups are more or less intimately connected by historical and other events. Wimborne, the first in the group of East Wessex towns, is situated in the picturesque and well-wooded valley through which flow the two rivers, the Stour and the Allen or Win, the former on the south and the latter on the east side of the town. Wimborne is one of the "old-ancient" towns of Wessex which, of considerable importance in olden days, has only of quite recent years regained some of the prestige which it lost on the abolition of the monasteries and religious foundations of the county. Its chief life even now is more jf a rural than an urban character, and the atmosphere of the little town is tinctured with that placid and untroubled ease which distinguishes the deliberate flow of the two streams upon which it stands. Its history has been far less eventful than that of 42 The Founding of Wimborne most Wessex towns of equal si/.e and importance ; but .n the far-ofFdays of the Anglo-Saxon invasion it must have caught at least a murmur of the fierce battle wh.ch m A.D. S20 raged between the Britons under Arthur and the Anglo-Saxons under Cerdic at Badbury Rings, about three and a half miles to the north-west of the town. And another stirring time for ancient \\.mborne occurred some four centuries later, in a.d 90I when .t was seized by Ethelbald, a cousin-german Fr.tu ?' ^'^^"- "^'^ '^"^"'- --^hed against t-thelbald and encamped with a large force in Badbury Rings On the approach of the king, the rebel, with a handful of followers, fled to join the Danish invaders .n Northumberland. The chroniclers state that whilst at VV.mborne Ethelbald took his wife out of the nunnery there, returning her thither on his flight ' Ihis, so far as stirring history is concerned, is ^^ .mborne s record. But that it was a place of some considerable size in Roman times is attested by the tact that ,t was a military station, and was named Vindogladia. Comparatively early in the history of the introduction ot Christianity ,t acquired importance from the nunnerv- founded about 700 by Cuthberga, who was afterwards canonised, and was a sister of Ina, king of Wessex • in which nunnery, we are told, -she macerated her' body with almost continual watchings and fastings " permitting « her body to enjoy no rest, but im- portunately day and night her prayers sounded in the ears of a merciful God." 43 . Vi -ii' T i Wessex A change- was, however, made a century or so prior to the Norman Conquest, when the " meek and prayerful " nuns were replaced by secular canons ; and it continued a collegiate church until the Reformation. One person at least of note was clean of the founda- tion, Reginald Pole, afterwards created archbishop and cardinal. He held the office of tiean in 1517, at the early age of seventeen. From the time of the Dissolution and Reformation the importance of the minster church at Wimborne decreased ecclesiastically, though it fortunately remained as an excellent example of Norman, Transition-Xorman, Karly English, and Decorated architecture. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth the foundation, consisting of three priests, with a staff of "singing men" and choristers, came into being, and this exists to the present day. Wimborne without its minster church would be of little interest nowadays ; but the splendid pile, which has in its time served the dual purpose of a collegiate and parochial church, is singularly interesting and even impressive in character. Its two towers, the earlier one, at the intersection of the cruciform, of Transition- Norman work, and the later, at the western end of the nave, of the Perpendicular period, form a pleasing and picturesque feature from almost all possible points of view. Impressive they most assuredly are, though perhaps promising to the stranger at first sight a more extensive and noble fabric than that of which they form so important a part. However, when one has 44 if., . .\- iiii' >i(»i K : "iMitimsi Miv^im i\ IHI-: disiam k ^A- -*<•'■•.-», Wimbornc Minster entered the building the sense of peaceful veneraWeness which comes u[-n)n one serves to banish any disappoint- ment which has arisen by reason of the comparative lack of size. Of the original Norman building little rum re- mains save the lantern arches, the piers of the nave, the clerestory, anil the walls of the transept and choir. The central tower of the Transition-Norman period, with a two-storied open lantern of exceptional beauty, was once surmounted by a spire, said to have been " as high as that of Salisburie " by an old chronicler. 1 his, which was probably about one hundred to one hundred and thirty feet high, fell in 1600 during a great storm, when some portions struck the roof ; and although the building had many inside it, its fall was " without anie hurte to the people." In this ancient fane, mellow and picturesque without, and hallowed by centuries of worship within — A monument of ai;es dark. That speaks traditions high Of minstrels, tournaments, crusades, And mail-clad chivalrv — the histories of men who have lived and served and done and died are thick. And here lies royal dust that of Ethelred, brother of Alfred the Great, with the monumental brass marking the spot of his interment let into the pavement near the altar. The king, afterwards canonised, was (it is agreed by the most competent authorities) killed in a battle with the Danes at Marten, Wilts, distant from Wimborne some fourteen 45 >■ •-•-I '^?: r I It ^ i Wcsscx miles, whctKi- he was carried after the fight, and in- terred. Another kinu is stateil l)y the Anglo Saxon ChroniJe to ha\e been liuried here in \.\). i)Ui, for in it wc find " King Sigferth killed himself, ant! his body lies at Wunhorne." Of little less interest is the fine altar-tomb, on the south side of the choir, of John Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, graniison of John of Gaunt, who died in 1 444, and of Margaret Beauchamp, his wife. This was erected by their daughter, the Lady Margaret Tudor, afterwards mother of Henry Vll. h/the south choir aisle is a huge and interesting oak chest, hewn out of a log some seven feet in length, formerly used as a receptacle for the church plate, deeds, etc. It was secured by six locks, and is believed to be eleven hundred years old, and to be the most ancient chest of its kind in Fngland. On the opposite side of the choir is the tomb of Gertrude, Marchioness of Kxeter, who died in 1556. Another, in the south chancel aisle, to which there is attached the element of romance which always seems to appeal to sightseers, is that of Anthony Kttrick, first Recorder of Poole, who "committed" the un- fortunate Duke of Monmouth after his capture on Shag Heath. His connection with this event rendered him so unpopular with the commonalty that he in disgust protested that he would be buried "neither in nor outside the church, and neither above nor below ground." In order to accomplish this apparently difficult feat, he caused an opening to be made in the 46 The "Chained" Library wall on a level with the pavement, and in the year ify<)i (which he see,ns to have thought would k- th it of h,s death) he deposited a black slate or marble coffin ,n the cavity, on which the date was inscribed There he was buried on his death eleven years later. He left a sufficient sum to keep the coffin' and niche in repair. The minster contains yet another curiosity, which is believed to be almost unique, in the quaint old orrery made by one Peter Lightfoot, a Glastonbury monk, in ir-o. Por nearly six hundred years this ingenious piece of mechanism, which is connected with the cIocK in the west tower, has contini ed to show the aee and phases of the moon, the revolution of the planets and the position of the sun according to the Copernican system. Wimborne, unprogressive though it was ,n many respects during the centuries which followed the abolition of its religious foundation, possesses at least one claim to fame possessed by few other Wessex towns. It was the home of a free library in the days when such institutions were practically unknown. This unique collection of chained books, some 240 in number, is housed in a room reached through the vestry, and was gathered together by one of the°clergy of the church, William Stone, a native of the town It was thrown open to the townsfolk, and, lest the books should be borrowed and not returned, each volume was chained. Amongst the collection are several works of note, i.iclud.ng rirst editions of Sir 47 Wessex >: Walter Raleigh's History of the H^or'J and Burton's Anatomy of ■'Melancholy. The oldest volumes are a Latin MS. on vellum, Regimcm Anmarum, dated 1343, which was intended for the use of the priest attached at that time to the flourishing monastery ; and the works of Anselm, printed in 1485. Over the first-named of these books the poet Prior, whose birthplace is generally spoken of as Wimborne, in the year 1664, dozed, and the candle which he had somehow or other smuggled in to read by falling upon Sir Walter Raleigh's hook, many pages .-re burned. The destroyed text was supplied by hand, discs cf paper, on which were written the missing words, having been ingeniously let into thj d.: naged pages. The Grammar School, of ancient foundation and picture>quely situated, is a modern and uninteresting building which nowadays lives in a purely scholastic memory, and not in an antiquarian one. Of the ancient building founded by Margaret, Countess of Richmond, not a vestige remains ; nor of that existing when Queen Elizabeth refounded the school and directed that it should henceforth be known as " The (Grammar School of the foundation of Queen Kli/abcth in Wimborne Minster." In the past it furnished those two indigent and not too scrupulous monarchs, James I. and Charles I., with opportunities for extortion. The first, having h.s doubts concerning the validity of its charter, only consented to its continuance on payment of /.'boo by the school governors ; and his successor. King Charles 48 Poole Harbour of blessed memory, was seemingly afflicted with like misgivmgs, for he exacted a fine of /.looo on similar grounds. But it is only fair to add that the old school which has undergone such vicissitudes, although having little of antiquarian or architectural interest nowadays, has not been behind in educational work in this corner of Wessex, and amongst its scholars has had not an inconsiderable number of boys destined afterwards to become famous, amongst whom may be mentioned the poet Prior, and John Lewis, the historian of V\yclif. Wimborne and Poole are separated by four miles or so of pretty country lanes, followed by the wide stretch of heather and gorse-clad moorland which is almost Scotch in character, though less bleak and impressive than the famous Egdon Heath, to the south of Bere Regis. The traveller in Wessex approaching Poole along this upland road comes at the end of it, where it dips down the steep side of Constitution Hill, upon a suddenly opening prospect of almost unrivalled charm and loveliness, embracing as it does the beautiful harbour stretched out below, and the lofty Purbeck Hills, which seem to shut the harbour in to the south ; whilst eastwards is another stretch of pine-clad moorland, broken up by the tiny hills of Parkstone and vistas of the town of Poole, of the silvery waters of Holes Bay, and of Lytchett Heath. Seen from this eminence, Poole takes on itself the beauty possessed by 49 4 'T' Wessex nearly all irretjularly built places almost engirdled by water. Anything there is of squalor about the little seaport is softened by distance, and nothing save the picturesque remains— a beauty of irregular buildings wreathed in smoke and lit of a summer's evening with the orange glow of the west. At all seasons of the year Poole and its harbour seen from the heights of Upper Parkstone, present a' picture of extraordinary beauty, almost Italian in character. The town itself, which is so pictur- e-squely situated at the head of the harbour of the same name, is one of the most ancient ports in the south of I-.ngland, and has more than once in olden times been on the way to becoming one of rirst-class importance. Why Poole has remained stationary for the last twenty years, and indeed may be said in a measure to have retrograded as a port during that period, It IS not very easy to determine. The reason may possibly be found in the lack of capital for developing the harbour, and the fact that without development the latter is not one admitting vessels of any great tonnage. Although the town does not appear in any chronicles of Anglo-Saxon or early Xorman times, there seems little doubt that it existed quite early in the history of Wessex, either as a lakeside village or as a small settlement on the tongue of land jutting out into the harbour. But a notice of it does appear in William l-ongespees charter; and i„ the reign of Henry III. an embargo was laid on all vessels in the port of 50 ^^M' 'T" t ** M MIDLAND IIKAIII; HXll.l HAKl.dlK 1\ ||11 hWIAVI ■^-.^'f/3 »^, ^ The Plague at Poole I'oolc, which seems to prove that it was at that time a place of very considerable maritime impiortance. The early history of the town is somewhat obscure, but in the reign of Kciward l.we find Poole furnishing three ships and fifty- nine sailors as a contribution towards the fleet which was gathered together under command of the Karls of Lancaster, Richmond, and Lincoln, to serve in the war being waged by the King against France. And in the reign of luiward liL it must have reached a state of even greater wealth and importance, for it was then able to supply four vessels and about a hundred men for the prosecution of the siege of Calais. Amongst other Wessex towns, it suffered terribly in the middle of the fourteenth century from the plague, and the records siiow that a very large proportion of the then existing population died from the disease. Most of the victims were buried on the projecting slip of land known nowadays as " The Baiter." Not only did the high rate of mortality set back Poole from its position amongst the larger of Wessex towns, but it was also^ the cause of its disenfranchisement ; and it was not until nearly a century later that it recovered somewhat of its former prosperit)', and in the reign of Henry Vi. was again permitted to send members to Parliament. The town a few years later was thrown into a state of excitement by the news that the i-larl of Richmond, afterwards Henry Vll., u'as at sea off' the harbour mouth, with the idea of effecting a landing and raising the west 5' 'T" ;■'-(- - Wessex oi Knulanci ir, support of his claim to the throne But the harl, Hnd.ng that the district was forewarned of h,s com.ng, and that large bodies of men were in the ,mmed>ate neighbournood to resist his landum sa.led away, and Poole sank back into its usual state' or lethargy. About^^he end of the fifteenth century the town regamed a good deal of its former prosperity, and was carry.ng on a thriving trade with Spain and other connnental ports. Its merchants were many of them wealthy, and the Poole of to-day contains 'some few traces in the larger houses-many of which, however arc MOW put to uses quite foreign to their original owners ,ntentions-of the days when the port was really one of the most prosperous in the south of i.ngland. The place previous to this period and for some considerable time afterwards was in very bad repute, owing to the buccaneering proclivities of some ot Its inhabitants. It was in those days a hotbed of pirates and smugglers, and this fact was probablv owing to the excellent shelter afforded by its numerous creeks to those preferring to obtain a living in any other way than that of legitimate trade or fishing. So bad was the reputation of the place that a rhyme still survives which was once in circulation concerning it : It- Poole- were a hsh-jx.ol, and men of Poole fish, ' hered be a pool tor the devil, and fish for his dish. One of the most noted of Poole buccaneers-or, to g.ve him his more suitable title, pirate-was a Harry 52 V^M' The Poole Buccaneers Payc who used to sail out of harbour with one or more well-manned and well-armed vessels and make ra,ds upon the coasts of France and even of Spain. H was well known and feared by both the Sp^anish ami French mercant, e mar.ne ; and it .s stated that on on oc as.on alone after one of his pirat.cal enterprises he sa.led ,nto harbour w.th over a hundred vessel taken rr./-es on t e coast of Brittany. For some week tter th,s performance Poole seems to have ken no day. and to have given way to all sorts of debauch ami vaousness. We are told that « many pun hons o good Porto w,ne and kegs of brandy were' broa hej H> he notonous p.rate and partaken of by all and sundry on the quay of P„ole and in the adi.cJ^,t s reets ; so much so that there was scarcclv Tob nan ,n the town, and for days no one thought o on^-rriatdwixntizr'^"-: of ft,., a ^ I 1 "trKeitv m command of the fleet bdong.ng to the Cnque Ports, that in a ai«: J- 1 ,o .t'is;:2, x^': ::tt' 't chronicle as " Arri Piv " Th, , , " '" ""' co„6,K.d ,0 ,hc. capture of hi., f' ."T"' ""'=''' nnd Ki,„s,erre, J Z:U^ZjJy,''"'" "l''"" ^ umer exploits carried off 53 Wcssex a famous crucifix from the Church of Santa Maria of Finistcrrc, which was cstc-cmcd as being one of the most valuaMc church ornaments, as well as the most holy of crucifixes, in those parts. Castile was also raided In" him and his band of freebooters, and we read in the same chronicle : " He did much damage, taking many persons and exacting ransomes ; and although other armed ships came there also from England, it was he who came oftenest." But if the famous I larry Paye was successful in his expeditions, the town from which he sailed was not altogether to escape from the consequences, for we finti that so vindictive a feeling prevailed against him that the desire for retaliation became very strong in the first years of the fifteenth century. And indeed in I f05 the French king sought the aid of Henrique III., king of Castile, in a joint expedition for an attack upon l*oole. The Spaniards got more than forty vessels together, and eventually they sailed to La Rochelle. Here they were joined by several French ships, and after a little delay reached the coast of Cornwall, and whilst sailing further east landed here and there for the purpose of plundering and capture. Ultimately Pero Nino, the commander of the fleet, finding himself near the famous " Arri Pay's" place of abode, determined to attack the town. Accordingly they entered the harbour, and sailing up it came early one morning in sight of Poole. Apparently the town walls were not then existent ; hut the French commander seems to 54 t Spaniards attack Poole have thought that it would have been rush to attempt to take vengeance for the many depredations of the tamous I'oole buccaneer. A Spanish force was put ashore, however, and a large number of houses were set on fire. One of the bigger buildings on the quay was held for some time agamst the ntack of the Spaniards ; but so fierce was the assault of the latter that the defenders were forced to retreat out at the back, and the besiegers found the place full of arms and sea stores of all kinds, which they earned off to their ships. The Foole inhabitants then rallied, and on being reinforced from the country round about returned to the attack, and a large number of people were killed and wc-' '-d. A brother of Harry Paye's was among the . ler. The French having after all landed and c.ne to the assistance of Pero Nino's men, the inhabitants of Poole were once more driven back and the town was set on fire. The enemy, having taken some prisoners then retired to their vessels and set sail for South- ampton. This attack upon the town forms one of the most stirring incidents in its history. Then for more than two hundred years the life of the town seems to have been quite uneventful ; but on the outbreak of the Civil War between Charles I and the Parliament, Poole espoused the cause of the latter and proved a ven/ stout Roundhead stronghold The' Marquis of Hertford marched upon it in 1642 and summoned it to surrender ; but the townsmen 'were so determined and spirited in their action that the 55 Wcssex Royalist forces were compelled to retire. The next year the garrison, aided by that of VVareham, attacked and liefeatCii I.fird Inchi(]iiin's Irish rei^inient, and a few days after succeedeii in capturing and carrying oft" l}000, which were being sent by Prince Rupert to Weymouth, as well as seizing a hunilred horses and a ijuantity of arms ami ammunition. Later in the same year the I'oole garrison was in part drawn off for the purpose of commencing the siege of Corfe Castle ; but on tl appearance of Prince- Maurice m the neighbourhood, ami owing to the stubborn resistance offered them by the gallant [-;idy Bankes, they were forced to raise the siege anii retire. The Prince seems to have rather wasted his oppor- tunities, for he remaineii so long at Dorchester and Weymouth that when he summoneil Poole to surrender his summons was not obeyeil, and, appearing before the town to attack it, he found that it had been so far strengthened and fortifieii as to present so great ditfi culties to him that he could not hope to take it without a lengthy siege. Abandoning the attack, he proceedea to another part of the country. Throughout the Civil War the inhabitants of Poole seem to have been very active in support of the Parliament, ami on many occasions attacked various parties of Royalist troops who happened to be in the neighbourhood. In NWember 1643, '» consequence of a tnre aened attack by Prince Maurice, the Earl of Warwick, the Lord High Admiral of the Parliament, was in the harbour with a fleet of ships sent thither 56 Charles II. at Poole to afforii protection to the town. He procccilcJ up the VV'archam Channel ami captures! several small vessels belonging to the Royalists, besuies plundering the town, which at that time happened to be in the hands f)f the King's partisans. During the reign of Charles 11. Poole suffered greatly from the plague. On Friday, September 15, 1^65, Charles II. visited the town in company with the Duke of Monmouth and a large number of nobles and officers. He and his suite were hospitably entertained, and a record exists of the sentiments expressed by the Mayor of the town and the burgesses concerning the honour that ha^i been done them, as well as of the banquet ami junketing. In the last years of the seventeenth century the inhabi- tants of I'oole became once more famous for gallantry at sea. In 1 694, Captain Peter JolIifPe, cruising in a small vessel called the .SV9 ■ i m.- T-.'i .- .-r*. -i^' i Wessex in that old -fashioned but exciting romance T/:e ^mu^^Ier, by G. P. R. James. Although this attack upon the Poole custom- house remains one of the most famous exploits of the smugglers on the south coast, it proved by no means the last of a ser.es of bold attempts to avoid the payment of customs duties. And many almost equally niteresting stones could be told of the boldness md resource shown by the fishermen and others in the carrymg out of their illicit traffic. Even in the early part of the last century several of the mland vdlages, as well as those of the coast, were largely peopled by smugglers, and it was commonly stated that all the inhabitants of Kinson village were about this period either actively or passively engaged ■n the occupation of running cargoes. The most amous of all the chiefs of smugglers upon the East Dorset and West Hampshire coasts was one named OuUiver. His smuggling operations were carried out on such an extensive scale that he not only had a small fleet of vessels, but also teams of pack-horses and a number of men ,n his employment, who were stated at that time to be scarcely less than fifty in number. His favourite spots for landing cargoes were in the inlets of Poole Harbour and at the mouths of the chines-in particular, Branksome Chine, on the borders of Hants and Dorset But this famous Gulliver, who lived to a good old age. leaving a large fortune, was not only a smuggler but appears at times to have acted in the capacity tf a 60 .*».*fcjW. •-!..■ Poole of To-day secret service agent for the Government. A writer of the period states that no movements of the French took place during the great war with France, but that Gulliver was cognisant of them, and his knowledge was found to be so valuable that the Government often overlooked his smuggling operations for the sake of the information that he was able to afFord regarding the plans of the French. With the growth of Free Trade, and the increase of the population along the Dorset and Hampshire coasts, smuggling gradually declined, and the race of Poole smugglers at length became extinct. The last of the many famous people who have landed at Poole, or embarked from that port, engaged on more or less romantic enterprises, was Charles X. He arrived there on August 23, 1830, after his flight from France. Poole has few buildings of note nowadays, and even its chief church is an unpicturesque structure standing at the west end of the town, a little north of the quay and somewhat at the back of the High Street. It is of no antiquity, although it stands upon the site of a much more ancient building. The Poole of to-day is still a busy seaport, and the High Street, which is of considerable length, generally wears an air of enterprise and bustle. The character of the trade of Poole as a seaport hi s, however, very much altered of late years. Formerly it was of a more general character, but nowadays it is almost entirely confined to the timber trade with the Baltic, 61 »' l/r-T I Wcssex and a consulerahlc trade in sea-borne coal. Its shipbuilding, once a source of considerable prosperity, has of late years greatly declined, although some small yachts ami boats are still built. Its ancient and prosperous trade with XewfoutuUand has become entirely extinct. The quays form one of the most interesting and busy portions of the town, and here may be found many types in whose faces may still be traced the characteristics of the old sea-dogs who fought, during the latter half of the eighteenth and early part of the nineteenth centuries, so gallantly and toughly against the French. Amid the network of narrow alleys which run in and out amongst the larger and more solid red-brick houses which fiank the quay— and some of them still speak of the ancient prosperity of their merchant owners — are many picturesque bits of architecture. And here also may be discovered by the enterprising artist or amateur photographer quaint doorways hidden away in courtyards, the stones of which have long since become moss- and grass-grown ; and pieces of bulging wall which are lichen-grown and weather- stained by many years of sunshine and storm. Modern Poole has, strangely enough, not very largely displaced the Poole of ancient days. Old buildings have not as a general rule been pulled down to be replaced by new ones, hut the more modern hruses have been built on the outskirts of the older town, along the roads which lead to Parkstone and Bourne- 62 •■*" nr-rfiTi ^C^'^.tf'^t. iM] I HI HKiiAi'^inVh (.<•(> I INK-, N ^ .\ II I'lMM.h k •■• :S^ "=»: An<^r'o-Saxon Warcham niDul'i, ami to the upptT part ot l-()iij,'t1cct. Poole is -.een to the greatest advantage when viewed trom the encircling highlamls which gird it to the south- west, south-east, east, and north-ea' . I'Voni I'oole to Wareham is double the distance by- road that It is "as the crow flies." The two towns have l)een mtitnately connected historically, but now- adays, whilst Wareham is decaying, Poole at least holds Its own. Wareham can either be reached by way of Hamworthy (the shorter w.iy) or by way ot Upton, the prettily situated country seat associated with the l.imous 'I'ichborne family. To Lytchett the roail in parts IS very pretty, and then comes a long stretch of rather bleak moorlaiui, known as Lytchett Heath, followed by a belt of pine-forest which takes the traveller almost to the confines of Wareham itself. The town, now a quiet and even sleepy place, situated on the ridge dividing the river I'Vorne to the south and rhe Trent to the north, iu-^f at the point of their confluence, still preserves several features of interest for the traveller ami antiquarian. Anciently, in the days when its name occurreii witli some frequency in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, the town was of consider- able import;'nce ; nowadays it is just one of those picturesquely irregular townlets, considerably behind the age both as regards its commercial and social life, of which Wessex can l)oast so many. Of its old-time glories, consisting of a castle and magnificent earth- works, which in Saxon times stood the brunt of many a Danish attack, there are few traces now remaining 63 I 3 I Ifjr-^ I V We s sex But above the nvcr ,s still a mound wn.ch ,s pointed out as the Castle Close, and to the south-west and south ot the town are considerable traces of the ancient earthworks. In Saxon times Wareham must have been a town of hrst-c ass .mportance, for we know that it was con- t.nualy attacked and occupied by the Danish pirates, who found Foole Harbour and Wareham Channel such convenient means of access inland from the coast At hrst, or, the occasion when Guthrun, the Dan.sh ch.ef sa,l,ng up Poole Harbour, made an attack upon Wareham, only a few none too bold- sp.nted men could be i,.uhered around the Saxon standard to resist the Danish invaders Several kings of Wessex were buried in W.reham and ,t was also here in the Church of St Mary, that' the boay of hapless Rdward the Martyr, treacherously sla,n at Corfe Castle, ,s said to have been interred nur,ng the several periods of the Danish invasions' \\areh.m was the constant objective of their attack and ,n ..u. 878 it was invested by a Danish army.' and the whole town was destroyed King Alfred the Great, with the army he succeeded •n gathenng around h,s standard, however, came to the rescue of the .nhabitants, and under his protection the own was speeddy rebuilt, and his daughter refounded the ru.ned nunnery which the Danish hordes had plundered. K,ng Athelstan had instituted a mint here many years before, and it seems not improbable that th,s fact provded an extra inducement to the Danes 64 ! '! IIIH -A\UV (111,,,,, vl ».M(KH.\M 111' ■ AiiL;|.l)Ul> ,,1 lii- \\-,.,„-\ \ ,^, ^ f I' i »n iji ji Canute at Wareham tor their attacks, as it is recorded that on several of rhcir visits "they obtained much plunder and money." Canute returned here with his victorious army after having ravaged the whole of Wessex and plundered the rich Abbey of Cerne. At the time of the Conquest the town had so far regained its prosperity and importance that it was one of the manors retained by the Conqueror himself; and at this period a castle was erected, in which, in the rcign of Henry I., one Robert de Belesme, Earl of Montgomery, known as the richest, greatest, and wickedest man of his age, was imprisoned for rebel- ling against the King. He is stated to have starved himself to death. The strategical importance and strength of the town were, early in the period of the struggle between Stephen and the Empress Maud, the cause of :ts being involved in the war which ensued. The castle was seized in the year i 138 by Robert of Lincoln in the name of the Empress, and four years later both It and the town were taken by Stephen, and the latter partially burnt, during the absence ot the Duke of Gloucester, who on his return besieged the castle, which capitulated after holding out for three weeks.' Then for a time the unfortunate town seems to have enjoyed comparative peace. King John visited it in 1:05, and also a few years later; and in 1213 it was the scene of one of those media:val tragedies which from time to time cast so lurid a light upon the Ignorance and credulity of the common folk and even 65 5 ' '11 I 'I I — T*' Wessex of the y:ovcrniiig classes of those times. In that year Peter of I'onifret, a hermit who had in the year before prophesied that King John would be deposed before the following Ascension Day, was taken from his prison at Corfe Castle, where he had been confined with his son for mu.Miig this prophecy, and "was dragged with horses backwards and forwards about the streets of this town (Wnreham), and between it and Corfe Castle, and afterwards hanged, drawn, and quartered." During succeeding years Wareham attained to a large degree of prosperity, and it was here that Edward I., at the end of the thirteenth century, came to superintend the manning and provisioning of the ships which had been gathered together for the invasion of France. From that time, however, Wareham seems to have enjoyed immunity from warlike events for several huniired years. Then, at the commencement of the struggle between the King and Parliament, it soon became an object of contention between the Royalists and Roundheads. In quite the early part of the struggle the town was fortified and garrisoned for the Parliament, and we read in a chronicle of the time that a sum of more than if,o was advanced by the County Treasurer for that purpose. Soon after, however, it was seized by the Crown ; and then again in November 164:; a Parliamentarian captain by the name of Lay brought up the Channel from Poole upwards of two hundred men, and although at first they w.-re opposed by some of the Royalists, these latter 66 Civil War and Wareham eventually, on the enemy attacking the town, tied out of one gate as the besiegers entered by the other. A further account states that two hundred of the Royalists were ni; !.- prisoners, and that a great quantity of ammunition and arms, as well as cattle and provisions which had been brought together for the next day's market, was seized and carried away to Poole. Although the town see-sawed between the Royalists .uu\ Parliamentarians, there is little doubt that the real sympathy of the townsfolk was chiefly with the Crown and it was on account of this well-known attachment to the Royal cause that Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper furnished to the governor of Poole a certain memor- andum arguing in favour of the total destruction of the town, because, as he urged, " it is extremely mean- built and the inhabitants almost all dreadful malig- nants " ; failing its destruction. Sir Anthony proceeds to say : "If they (the Parliamentarian authorities) are unwilling to destroy the town, it may be left for a horse quarter, and (if) they have directions, when they are forced to quit it to set it on fire." Its destruction was, hov,.a'r, from some cause or other averted, and it jogged on its uneventful way from that period till the time of the Monmouth rebellion. It would appear that the town was the chief place of execution in the immediate district ; for, after the unfortunate Duke's defeat at Sedgemoor, and the " Bloody Assize " of Judge Jeffreys which followed It, three unfortunate rebels who had been with Mon- mouth's forces were condemned to death and sent 67 I I 1 I Wessex to Warcham for execution. The spot on thi wesfTn side of the ancient ramparts where the sentence was carried out is still known as " Bloody Bank." The three unfortunate men were here hanged and after- wards drawn and quartered, their heads being nailed to a wooden tower where stands the present town hall, and their quarters fastened on the bridge. A pathetic inciilent in connection with this barbar- ous deed was the taking down of the heads by sympathetic friends, who hid them under a bed in one of the houses in the High Street, and afterwards gave them decent interment. Although a hue and cry was raised by the authorities, and many of the houses were searched, the ghastly relics, which had been hurriedly hidden, fortunately escaped detection. From that time the history of Wareham is, indeed, prosaic and uneventful. An ancient plan of the town shows that in the days of its prosperity it possessed eight churches, three only of which now remain, and only one — that of St Mary — is now used for worship. The old church of St Martin, of which little more than the tower and a small fragment remains, stands perched upon a sort of terrace almost at the northern entrance to the town. St Mary's Church, which was rebuilt some sixty years ago, contains several things of interest, amongst which is the double south-eastern chapel, containing quaint effigies and inscribed stones which are of great antiquity, now built into the new walls, a.nd a very curious hexagonal lead font, dating probably from the twelfth 68 • i Wareham's Roll of Fame century, ami adorned with tigurcs of the Apostles. The south-eastern chapel is also interesting trom the tact that it is erected on the spot where stood the little one in which the remains of Edward the Martyr were deposited after his murder at Corfe Castle. Of the famous rectors of this church two may be mentionetl. One, William Wake, a grandson of whom afterwards became Archbishop of Canterbury, was stated to have been "an honest, merry, kind-hearted person ; a good scholar and a good soldier and an excellent drum-beating parson," who because of his predilection for King Charles I. was imprisoned no less than nineteen times. The other rector of note con- nected with the church was the Rev. John Hutchins, author and proj("ctor of the monumental history of the county of Dorset which bears his name. Wareham of to-day is a half-decayed and tran- quil town. On passing through it the traveller in Wessex can scarcely realise the fact that at one time it occupied a position of importance ; whilst nothing now remains to show that so late as the fifteenth century \Vareha was actually a seaport. No ships of any size now come up the Channel, and the recession of the sea has robbed it of its busy quays and ancient seaport characteristics. Possessed of really only one street, the town rests in placid tranquillity, seemingly un- disturbed by the events and turmoil of the outside world. Not until evening does Wareham apparently wake up, and then the streets take on a semblance of activity, and the dead townlet, as it were, disgorges 69 ' ! ! i; i' Wcssex som. of ,ts ,nh..b,tants on to the roads and pavements I" w.nter ,t ,s even less al,ve, and, seen through the m.st r,s,„u from the sodden surroundmg meadows, it ooks hke a nu-re phantasm of a town now scarcdy longer existent. ^ Of the romance which once enshrouded it, of th- brave days of old when sh.ps and men left the quays^ bent on voyages to distant parts and perilous adventur- •ngs on the coast and against ships of their hereditary French foes, and even of those days of the Napoleoni- Hars, not a vestige seems to cling 'to this antique town set amid environing meadows, grass-grown walls, and patches of gardens. 70 cnts. the fs, it •cely th;; jays tur- tary anic jwn and » XMKM.WI n,. A. ,::.'...,, I'-. Ur.vv \ « !i •» V I CHAPTER IV SOME TOWNS OK SOUTH WESSEX ^ n The sea towns of Wessex have played no unimportant j art in the history and life of the district in the past, although those lying in the extreme south-western corner of the county of Dorset preserve to-day little of the importance which once attached to them. Along the southern shore of Wessex, amid scenery alternately wild, picturesque, and beautiful in a softer sense, lie the towns of Swanage, Weymouth, Bridport, and I .yme Regis. Swanage is a small but growing modern watering- place, with little or no history in the past save the more or less traditional battle fought in " Swanwic Bay " between Alfred and the Danes. The old town lies in the western curve of the bay, picturesque and oKl- f.ishioned, with its winiling, narrow High Street, grey- atoned houses, and shingle roofs, and such irregularity of architecture as gives the place an almost foreign look when approached by water, and seen from a little distance. The newer town is built upon the heights to the south-west and along the lower-lying land which skirts the curve of a fine sandy beach, and on the 71 ■?=.fl7,'rr'\ m Wessex h.gher ground to the Morth-cast, beneath ihe shelter of the bold ruige at the Purbeck Hills Westward from Swanage about twenty-two miles by water and south-we.t from Dorchester over the ridge of chalk downs towards the sea, reached by good roads ^11 W '"'''' T\ ""^^^^^>'^ ^-^i^ily accessible also by ra,l, Weymouth l,es ,n the curve of one of the fines't hays on the south coast-a modern town, gradually spreading landwan.s, and ,n a measure slowly obliter atmg the more ancient of ,ts features. Krom its sea- front there .s a panorama of rugged coast a.ui breezy uplands, ,„ beauty and interest second only to o„e other ,n southern Wessex. Beauffully s.tuated, and almost lapped u: summer by the sapphire sea, nmdern \Veymouth has nowadays become one of the qu.eter, though much resorted to, seas.de towns of the southern s owly upwards from Dorchester, descends over th! cMk cmwns to the pretty village of Upway, w.ll sec ^Vcymouth,and d.stant Portland crouching l.ke some l""g, low, and amph.b.ous animal ,n the wide expanse or sea, to the greatest advantage ; for the former like many another Wessex town, is' most truly picture's u when v.ewed as a whole and from a distance \.cymouth has a distmcfon which belongs to com- Parat.vely tew seaside resorts ,n :ts agf and the mstoncal uuerest which attaches to ,t. Sn support ot^he towns antic,uity many records still ex^st a'.d although these scarcely go back so far as to A Crime of Long Ago the Roman occupation, there are many circumstances and indications which make it more than possible that It was a port of trade visited by even the ancient merchants of Tyre before the Roman invasion of Britain. Traces of Phcenician pottery, Druidical, Roman, Saxon, and Danish remains, are by no means rare in the immediate neighbourhood, anil to anti- quarians more especially the district round about Weymouth presents many attractions. The Via Iceniana, one of the great Roman military roads, passed through Dorchester, whilst another X'icinal road led thence to Weymouth. Of the traces of the Roman settlement which undoubtedly existed near Wevmouth the most important yet discovered are urns containing silver V )ins of Gallienus, Gordianus, and Trajanus Decius, dating from a.d. 244 to 260. As long ago as the reign of Athelstan, Weymouth was a place of considerable importance, and in the year 910 was the scene of a tragic crime, when the King, suspecting his half-brother Edwin of plotting against his throne, set him adrift in an open boat without sails or oars, in company with one of his esquires. The itory goes that the boat was ultimately driven ashore on the coast of Picardy, but long before this the prince had committed suicide in despair. At first it appears that King .Athelstan was only too well satisfied with having got rid of his half-brother ; but before long, tradition asserts, he was seized with most poignant remorse, and retired to Langport, in Somerset, to do penance for his crime. As was so often the custom 7i H ! I Wcssex in those days with pc-iitcnts of rank, he appears to have founded two abbeys, one of wh.ch was Milton, and to this foundation he granted the Manor of \\c-ynK,uth, in the possession of which it remained until the reign of F.dwani the Confessor, who gave nine ot the manors of Weymouth and district to the ihurch of Winchester. The traditional story of this grant bv Edward is -ntcresting if unauthenticated. It runs that these estates were given as compensation for an injur" done to the church in the person of its bishop, owing to certain infamous accusations which were brought against him, and formed part of the accusation made against h.mma, the Queen-mother, who, tradition states underwent the trial by ordeal-then a custom-" and passed unhurt with bare feet over nine red-hot plough- shares. This grant to Winchester, with other land was confirmed by Henry I. and Henry II. The rise of Weymouth to a place of note appears to have been a rapid one, for in the reign of Edward 1 It was looked on as a place of considerable si/e and wealth, and the increase of its importance appears to have been one reason why the monks lost the manor which was taken over by the Crown, and formed a portion „f the dowry of Edward I.'s Spanish wife, l-.leaiu,r of Castile. The town appears over and over again in history during the succeeding centuries ; and Edward 111., on returning from I-Vance in ,ui was driven by a great storm into the roadstead ' By this tune Weymouth had risen to a place of 74 French Attack on Weymouth considerable maritime importance ; and four years later it supplied no less than twenty ships for the siege of Calais. Some idea of the status of Weymouth at this time may be gathered from the fact that the port of Bristol supplieii only two ships more, and the port of London five ships more — although in both these cases the vessels were undoubtedly of con- siderably greater tonnage. The Fn.-nch by no means forgot the part that Weymouth played in supplying men and ships for the attack upon their coasts, and thirty years later, in 1377, in the reign of Richard II., a large fleet was equipped by Charles V. for the purpose of retalia- tion along the English seaboard. The enemy landed at several places along the coast, and also visited Weymouth, where they attackeii the town and burned a considerable portion of it. So greatly liid the place suffer that in the reign of Henry IV. the inhabitants felt compelled to petition the King to be relieved from the payment of their customs dues, and this exemption was granted to them for a period of twelve years. I.eyland, writing of Weymouth a little later, states : "This towne, as is evidently seene, hathe beene far bigger than is now. The cause of this is layid unto the Frenchmen that yn times of warre rasid this towne for lack of defence." The possession by Weymouth of merchant vessels nt any large size appears to be first mentioned in the year 1413, when one Richard Hill was granted a licence — such as was not infrequently given to masters of ships in those days — to carry forty pilgrims overseas 75 '. .1 R :■ t Wessex to the shnnc oi St Jago, and in subsequent years licences o a s.m.lar character were granted. One strange ordmance in connection with the;e pilgrimages wh.ch the l>ope had decided were equal 'n'merit'^;' those undertaken to Jerusalem itself, was that the p. gruns, hetore be.ng pernmted ^o embark, were com- pelled solemnly to swear not to take anything pre- reasonable expenses ; and ,n the middle of the fifteenth century an additional clause was added to the oath by wh.ch t ey were required to declare that they would not d.vulge the secrets of the k.ngdom. ^ About the same tune Weymouth was ^ne of the towns selected to contnbute a certa.n sum towards the e>cpc.ses of a fleet "for the kepyng of the sea." Ow.ng to the continued depredations of the French, Henry tr n;37 >^ " T"'" '''' ^''^^^- '^'^^ --^^v of attack' to on Tr'"'^''^^" - ^ P-^ --1 .ts wool-staple o oole, a.u th,s deprived ,t of much of its commercul standing and trade. .Although Weymouth itself may not. perhaps, have Pa>cd a very important part in the war be ween have some connection with the struggle which w.s between the rival Houses of York and Lancaster. the r-K'"-' ^T""'-'' ^''' '^'^^'^^ ^'^""^ or entered the harbour of Weymouth throughout the loni -■"^-- -d stirring p.nods of national history buf 76 Philip of Castile at Weymouth possibly no more pathetic figure ever landed on the shores of Weymouth Bay than that of Queen Margaret of Anjou, who, sailing from France in the hope of restoring her husband, King Henry VI., to the throne, arrived off the town with her young son in April 1471, almost at the very hour when the cause in which she had so great a stake was undergoing eclipse on the fatal field of Barnet. A few weeks later the Queen, robbed of her throne and depriveil of her husband, was disastrously defeated at Tewkesbury ; and her son, who had landed in England with her but a few weeks before, was assassinated after the battle. Thirty-five years later, Philip, King of Cistilc, and his Queen, Joanna, with a great fleet of eighty ships, were driven on to the Knglish coast by a violent storm, and were compelled to take refuge in Wey- mouth Bay. The King and Queen, who had been very ill, landed with a retinue of knights and servants ; and, as this landing was kept very secret, when the tact leaked out it caused not a little alarm in the country, and Sir Thomas Trenchard, of Wolveton House, hearing of the landing and fearing an invasion, marched upon Weymouth with a force composed ot" all the available militia and his own retainers, where he was speedily followed by another force cinder Sir John Carew. Finding who the invaders were, Sir Thomas Trenchard gave them welcome, but told the King plainly that he would not be allowed to return on board his ships with his retinue until King Henrv \'1I. had seen him. King I'hilip must have spent 77 ^'•Ct '• it ^5>.^\- Wcssex some unccmfortablc quarters of an hour until the Karl of Arundel arr.ved from the metropolis Ji h an escort to convey h,m and his Queen to'LonZ for Spa.n and hngh.nd were at that t.me bv no m " s in ncndly relat.onship. and .t was agamst' the adv e of their captains and -cK-rais that the sei sirk k"' I Queen had landed'on Knglish soH. "^ '"^ In the reign of Henry VIII a Kr.M„-h ' ^;;. ..nticpated. the K,n, called :p:::h S^ end a number of foot men well armed for war ome of them to be archers and some of th.n to Je' wa to have a good sword and dagger - It was about this time Sandsfoot Qstle was built b> the Kmg on the southern shore of the spit of land orming the Nothe, and I.-yland mentions k as b ' _ right goodlie Castel havyng one open barbie e" T c fragments which remain go far to prove tha i wl •' '^:"^'' -^ ""^ "^ ^--^ --•- of considerable streng h ^or many centunes-,„ f,,, ,„„ ,,^. ^^■ of two d.s ,„ct towns, one having the name of Melcombe ' 'r ti: r th^ '^""^ '"?" '^>' ^^^ '— ~ charters or^cor^^^.^t^th'^' ^^" f ^^"^^^ harbour to be divided Jtwl'h :",;'" ""'^' ""'^ borou Ih r '^'"^'"^ ^'^' '"'^^^'^-^^^ "^" the two to ha^d:,sr ' " ^T' ' ^valry and hatred seem " -xistc. octween their respective townsfolk that "8 he in -)r in if d n o » 'V. I < iiri Ai.i ~ .A I >iiiki yr I ;.|»; f m Attacks by French Privateers the records contain several accounts of bloodshed which Oicurreii in disputes arising upoti such sulijects as the customs dues ami the use of the harbour. How ever, HI the reign of Queen I'',li/aheth the two ports were incorporateii into one, a-ul the causes of these frequent disputes were thus happily removed. A few years after the granting of' this charter "of the united borough and town of Weymouth and .Vlelcotiii>e Regis," some of the I'Vench privateers, who were indeed little better than pirates, infesting the Channel and the home seas at that time mavie a descent upon the roatistead of Weymouth, and, after damaging a large number of the ships which lay at anchor there, succeeded in "cutting out" and carrying ofF a vessel named Thf ^Angel of I.,i RjjchelU-, of some sixty tons' burden. An attempt to enter the harbour proper and seize another ship was, however, frustrated bv the bravery of the towiisfolk, who, training some pieces of ordnance upon them, repulsed the pirates, killing seven and wounding a large number. This iiction so enraged Purson, their leader, that he vowed he would return later on and burn the town. This threat of the buccaneer's was, so far as his return was concerned, carried out the following year ; but tnrewarned was forearmed, and the pirates found that the townsfolk had wisely used the time to strongK fortify the place, and it appears that on this occasion the buccaneers were neither able to carry out their threat nor to secure any booty. With the coming of the Armada Weymouth once 79 I I Wcsscx more playeci an important part in national history, by furnishing, ,n the year 1588, no less than six ships to Drake's fleet; some of them were large vessels for that time, ranging in tonnage from The Golden Lion, a vessel of i 20 tons, down to the C.itherine, of just half the size. This contribution to the national defence proves that Weymouth must have considerably recovered its fallen fortunes, for a return of all the ships of the mercantile marine made fourteen years previously showed that the total number of Knglish ships was then only 1232, and of these only 200 were upwards of eighty tons' burden. The Weymouth flotilla bore a gallant part in the running flght which lasted from opposite Plymouth Sound to the Bill of Portland. And so successful, indeed, was the action of the squadron that one of the Armada vessels was taken by them and brought into the roadstead. One can imagine with what joy the arrival of the huge and cumbersome captive galleon was welcomed, and how, as a con- temporary writer states, the townsfolk thronged the shore and ga/ed out across the rippling waves to where the pri/e and her captors had brought up at anchor. Not only were they justly proud of the gallantry of their tellow-townsmen in assisting to capture' the Spanish vessel, but with the return of the fleet came a sense of security from attack which had been absent from their minds for many months. Weymouth, although at this date an important town was as yet, according to John Coker, one of a single street. His general description is interesting as 80 ^ ' 'X •• ;. :-v^ ■ •"*". I. , J -It-.' Wevmouth during Civil War althouii:h the town has grown in modern times and extended itself consiiierahly to the north-west, it still hears, possessing as it does only one or two important •streets, excluding the sea-front, a strong resemblance to its ancient plan. Coker writes : The town " for a good space lieth open to the sea, and on the back of it riseth a hill of such steepness that they ;xre forced to climbe upp to their chappell by 80 steps of stone, from whence you get a fair prospect of the town and haven hing under it." It was on the tower of this Wyke Church that the beacon was placed which gave the inhabitants warning of the Armada's approach. During the Civil War Weymouth and Melcombe Re were undoubtedly more for the King than the I'.in .i.nent ; but both the Roundhead and Royalist forces contended 'or their possession very hotly, and till quite recent years houses and buildings still remaineii standing which bore traces of shots embedded in the wooiiwork and plastering, and bullet-holes. The town changed hands several times during the Civil War, and in July 1643 was occupied by the Earl of Caernarvon and the Royalist forces, without any resistance on the part of the Parliamentarv party. Prince Maurice, on afterwards joining the Earl, much to his discredit, set aside the terms of surrender, by which immunity had been promised to the townsfolk from the seizure of their persons or proper . Indeed, ''O much licence did the Royalist soldier ,ike that the Earl quitted his commanii in disgust, and joined the King, who was then besieging Ciloucester. 81 C SiB Wessex In the following year Weymouth fell i„to the hands of the Parliamentarian forces, and suffered very con- siderably by the severe punishments meted out to some of the inhabitants, who had assisted the Royalist cause by Colonel Sydenham. Several persons, amongst others' Captain John Wade and John Miles Constable, were hanged at Weymouth, and much of the shipping on the W eymouth side of the harbour, and part of the town, were burned down l,y the Roundhead colonel who afterwards defended the place successfully against a siege by the Royalists which lasted eighteen days. The town some years later gained Parliamentary distinction from the fact that Dennis Bond, who had been summoned to attend Parliament as member for the borough by no less a person than the Lord Pro- tector himself, moved during the session of .654 " That the Crown and title of King should be offered to the Protector." After the battle of Worcester, on September 3, '651. and Charles II.'s escape, Weymouth became the objective from which he hoped to sail for safety to l^rance^ The King, whilst a fugitive and lodged at I rent House, near Sherborne (where the King's " hole " or hiding-place is still shown), put himself into com- munication with Sir John Strangeways, who lived near V^ eymouth, asking that he should endeavour to procure a vessel m which he could flee the country. This however, proved to be such a difficult, if not an impossible task, that Weymouth as a port of escape was abandoned. 82 ijKrf /-*.,■ ^-, - . *L'^*UV--i*:t Ji*. m roHiiAsi) miiM iiii \, ,,i til.- \.,\.'is ■r- ' -^x-?^- Weymouth in Georgian Times At the Restoration the town seems to have somewhat recovered from the heavy losses which had been sustained by it and the townsfolk during the Civil War. A contemporary writer states that the Justices of the I'eacc placed these losses at the then huge sum of twenty thousand pounds sterling, anti this by no meatus seems to have included the partial destruction of property which was caused by the fighting in the streets, and the damage done to many of the houses, more particularly in the neighbourhood of the upper harbour and quay. Onlv a mere echo appears to have reached the town of the stirring and tragic doings in the west of England during the brief period of the Monmouth rebellion ; although it is more than probable that some of the Wevmouth men rallied, as did so many of the west country, to the standard of the ill-fated Duke at Bridport or Taunton. The next event of any importance in the history of the town was the visit of George III., who, resorting thither in 1789, afterwards made it his constant summer place of residence. At this time Weymouth was, according to a contemporary writer, little more than a straggling assemblage of fishermen's huts, with a few superior houses along the sea-front, and at the back of them an expanse of low, marshy ground which no enterprise at that date seemed capable of draining and reclaiming. The present-day busy and prosperous St Mary's Street was then a mere row of thatched cottatjes with a few houses of superior size sandwiched 83 f^ i ill .^r T r — Wc'SSCX ill tHtwici) ; whiKt Sr Thomas Street was an ill-paved rdail kauiML: f'l some small houses with picturesque rar^icns ,iiui paling fences m front of them. With the tirst ^.otnin^ of Km^ CieorLre ill., who tiiok up his resuieiice at dloucester Lodge, the rise ot moiiern W'evinouth mav lie said to have com- iiieneeii. Not onlv did a lar^re number of the nohilitv anvi Court officials come in the train of the Kmu' and his familv, hut also that ever-ready herd ot woulddie fashionable folk anxious to follow the Court, At}A b\' domu so bask m some of the glamour which surrounded its presence. New buildings be- came necessarv, aiui, as the old town then afforded trw i,M)od positions, m.iin ot the new residences were erected in the Melcombe Regis c]uarter, skirting the magnificent bay aiui facing the sea. In those days Weymouth must have reminded one ot St James's Park, for in and out of the new houses c.ime those perfumed Cieorgiaii dandies with their tr.uiitional Malacca and tasselled canes aid jewelled s'uff-boxes m hand, whilst along the Ksplaiiade went t.hairmen bearing stately Court ladies, rouged, patched, .iiul crinolined, attended many of them by courtiers in the gay attire ot the perioii. The sea-front must have presentee! on tine days a singularly gay and brilliant sight ; and the country folk for miles round were accustomeil to g( 'iito Weymouth to gaze and stare at the c|uality with wonder-enlarged eyes, much as thev would have gone to see any other sight f)r performance. The King not only visited a bath in St Thomas Street, «4 \*^^-^f>iMKT\ Georgian Aniuscmcius where, uc arc toKl, ^.ilt w.itcr w.is putii[u\l troni the SIM on [Hirposc, hut he ;uui many ot his Court took to sc.i-hathitiL;, and the royal machine was, we gather trom contemporary prints, "aright Koyal cumbersome and elaborate affair." " Many tolk dailv come into the town," states a writer ot the period, "to see His Majestv and the Court bathint; m the sea-water halt u turlong out from the shore. .And some days the crowd be so threat on the sands that people arc pushed into the water ai^ainst their will." \u the evetnngs the ladies and i^entlemen of the Court frequently crossed the harbour for the purpose of the ilramatic entertainments or dances which were ort,^uiised for their amusement in the Old Rooms, which in the latter half of the eighteenth century were prosperous, but are now almost deserted and fallen from their high estate. A curious insight into the life and conduct of the frequenters of this old assembly place is to be gathercti from the regulations which were drawn up by one T. Rodber, who appears to have been the master of the ceremonies at this period. Amongst the things which ladies ami gentlerDen frequenting the rooms were not allowed to do, were that the former should not appear on Tuesday or 1-rulay evenings in riding habits ; to dance in coloured gloves, nor to quit their places in a country dance before it was finished, unless they meant to dance no more that night. The latter on Tuesday and Friday evenings were not allowed to appear in boots, which 85 li| ! Wcsscx prohaMy nicant riding-boots, ami the same restrictions applied to thciii rcLrarilintr country dances and coloured j.'l()ves. And, lest any "ruffling" should by mischance take place or any ilispute arise, they were directed to lease their swords at the door. No dogs were admitted under any conditions, ami no tea-table was allowed to be carried into the card-room. Notwithstanding ' ese restrictions, there seems little ilouin, troin a contemporary diary, that very frequently lira .latic and even tragic scenes were enacted over the card-tables. .Ami there is lu) doubt that the chief use of the tea-room was for gossip by the fine ladies and the talk of scandal which was a great delight and so freiiuent a practice over a cup of tea in those days. Some amusing and interesting descriptions of the Court and the behaviour of the townsfolk at this time are to be found in a diary t)f the period. In it we are told " that they dress out every street with labels, ' God save the King ! ' ; th'.' bathing machines make it their motto over all their windows, and even bathers that belong to the royal dippers wear it in their bandeaux on their bonnets to go into the sea, and have it again in large letters round their waists to encounter the waves." The same diary humorously describes the surprise of George 111. when, having dipped his royal person under the water, a band of music which lay hidden m a neighbouring bathing machine struck up "God save the King ! " A .Mayor of Weymouth of this time was destined to 86 » AILU-'IDM 11(11 >!., 1>IIU--I 1 riif hf iiw r,\ lUlh-itielji Kveri|^^m%r'- Wcssex iTUirh as a pin to sec 'un " — adding somewhat bitterly : " Besides, the tools that are down to town to see 'un will lose a day's work by it, which is more than I can afford to do, tor 1 have five children to work tor." The Kinu, as kings always do on such occasions, put his hand wito his pocket ar,d gave h-r some money, saying meantime : "Well, then, you can tell your com- panions who are gone lO see the King that the King came to see you." Wcvmouth was a teeming centre ot news and ex- citement during that long war which only ended witii the defeat oi Napoleon at Waterloo. The King was out ridinu when the news ot the battle of the Nile was brought In- vouner to hun ; and on that night Wey- mouth was a scene of the greatest enthusiasm and re'ioicinLT. The King, we are told, after he returned from his ride and had read the dispatches, sallied forth upon the Tarade and good-humouredly accosted every- one he knew, a id conveyed to them personally details of the spK-ndid victory. Weymouth suffered not a little froni the " Boney " invasion scare, which for several years disturbed the peace of the inhabitap.ts of most south-coast towns ; and so LTrcat was the satisfaction on the proclamation of peace that we are told that an open-air dance was held in the town, at which die tour members of Parlia- mei.t for the borough and their families K^ok part. The crowd was so ^reat that the event became almost of the nature of a carnival ; and it is recorded that the 88 :--«.'- V>i--i- '■'^ ■i?^ ''-n '■ ■ 1'^ ^&m I !l I ■-.t-v A I I i III -It \i;\. \UIIIM>HMM. Nh.AK WK>Ml)rrH ^ll^• scene irf the »hef|>-.l»-ariiii; :ij h'.:r ir.m :h- Mrf/m^ • i;';v,1 ''!■ ' i -=»rj. -Az^JI-T-^^T^/^^.-^- ■■^■?^-f:ii i ^=? **-*»' Weymouth of To-day couples taking part in the dance cxtendeci the whole length of the main thoroughfare. Since those days Weymouth has nideed sobered down, till at the present time it is just a pleasant sea- side holiday resort, quieter than most of a like size, and relying principally upon its many natural attractions for the pleasure and interest of its visitors. Of public buildings, ecclesiastical or municipal, Wey- mouth possesses few of any note. Kven the Guild Hall near the bridge dates no further back than 1837, and none of the churches are much older. But this modern watering-place, which in the early fifties and sixties of the last century had rather declined from the position of importance and popularity which the patronage of King George had conferred upon it, has nowadays become a popular and charming seaside holiday resort. Its season, however, is a short one ; and it still preserves in its atmosphere and comparative quietude of life many of those old-world characteristics which seem to hang about so many Wesscx towns, whether inland or of the coast. Weymouth, though possessed of a good harbour and an excellent roadstead, has declined sadly as a trading port, and were it not for the excursion traffic in the summer, ami the trade and passenger traffic between it and the Channel Islands, there would indeed be little left of life and animation in its harbour and along its quays. No one even on the latter seems to the casual observer to be hurried or busy, and the same element of leisure 89 nr !l ; %>-) Wessex and somewhat old-t.ishioned commercial methods per- meates the shops of even its main streets. But what the town lacks nowaiiays in the modern go-ahead attrac- tions is in a measure compensated for by its beautiful situation and the many picturesque and interesting spots which lie in its immediate neighbourhood. Wevmouth, with its almost unrivalled bay, its "learning yellow sandy beach, its white and coloured cliffs across the blue stretch of water to the north-east, and its breezy and picturesque uplands rising above these cliffs, still, as in the days when dandies walked its streets and chairmen struggled with their burdens of Court and other beauties in its narrow by-lanes, presents for the quieter type of holiday-maker an attractive element of old-world flavour and quietude. A very different place is Bridport, which lies some eighteen miles to the west of Weymouth, and is reached by a good though somewhat hilly road, which, after a somewhat sinuous course from Upway to Portisham and Abbotsbury, runs for some distance beside a ridge of hills onlv a mile or so from the coast, ere it again plunges inland to reach Bridport — an excellent road, providing the wayfarer with quite a different kind of scenery from that of central Wessex, or even the coast-line from Durleston Head to Redcliffe Point, near Weymouth. Bridport s a quaint and picturesque little town, lying chieriy in a hollow of the hills and on their wel!-wf)oded slopes, some mile and three-quarters inland from the sea, and from the mouth of the tiny 90 ii' -rv W^ BIllDrOKI riv; r il brt-Uy uf the VVt^^ev Novels , ....jc-u ^' • - __r-^_^.,«-jt|;^'4j»' ■ ^_-r^_ ^_ MICROCOPY RESOIUTION TEST CHART iNSl ana ISO 'EST CHART No 2 1.0 !S» I.I 28 1^ 1^ I 2.2 2.0 1.8 '•25 III 1.4 i 1.6 ^ .APPLIED l^yMGE nr \ I Bridport river which gives it its name. Nowadays, except when market folk are thronging its streets, it has a somewhat " sleepy hollow " atmosphere, apparently undisturbed by the happenings of the great outside world, although connected with it directly by a railway line, a branch of the Great Western. In its streets, the architecture of which is, according to one authority, "pleasingly irregular," one meets many true Wessex types — farmers who might have stepped right out of the Wessex novels ; sun-tanned dairymaids, whose joy in the glories of the " girt " (big) shops is only to be equalled by their love of gay colours and cheap finery on Sundays and at fair-time ; drovers, who still happily many of them wear smocks and give an air of added picturesqueness to a picturesque call- ing ; shepherds, of the likeness of Gabriel Oak in Far from the Madding Crowd ; and the Darbies and Joans of surrounding villages, hale old Wessex folk who have seen many years but few changes, redolent, in their crinkled, russet cheeks, and country gait when afoot, of their yeomen ancestry. The town itself is surrounded by a dairy district, and not a little of the famous " blue vinny " cheese finds its way into the market. Bridport has in a way been upon the point of attaining some degree of importance ever since its inception, and it might have become one of the ports of the southern coast. But it has sadly lagged behind, and is at the present day merely a fairly well-to-do country town, not overdone with life or activity of any kind. 91 'W Wessex Like many Wcs^cx towns, tfic progress ot Bridport has been ot ;i retrograde character — it the "bull " mav be permitted ; tor in the reign ot F.dward the Confessor it possessed some standing as a trading town, and had the distinction ot a mint and priory. In the reign of Henry 111. the town and surrounciing lands were a royal demesne, the inhabitants holding th>. former on a lease from the King at an inconsiderable quit-rent. But although at this time it received a charter, it was not actually incorporated till some three centuries later. From ancient times it has been noted for its manu- factures of hemp ropes, cords, etc., and so highly were Briiiport rope ami cord and sailcloth esteemed that the greater portion of all the canvas and cordage used for the rigging and sails of the English fleet that so gloriously scattered and defeated the Spanish Armada was made in the town. In connection with this in- dustry there is an ancient joke at the historian Leland's expense. In olden times not only was hemp largely manufactured into rope and canvas in the town, but the raw material itself was grown in some c^ intity in the immediate neighbourhood, which gave rise to the local saying, when a man was hanged, that he was " stabbed with a Bridport dagger." This saying coming to the ears of Leland, and being received by him in the literal sense of the word, he solemnly states that "at Bridport be made good daggers." vVhich nodding of Jupiter has probably afforded as much cause for merriment as any mistake of the kind ever made by an historian. Britlport has never played any important role in the ^•■i. >. .r :^.» 2^^->.A>!(^^V "Port Bredv" in Bridpurr, June 14th, An. Do. if^H,-, by one Vcnncr, who was an Officer under the late Duke of Monmouth in that Rebellion." There is also in »he north transept an unusually tine " cross-Ieyi^'ed " effigy of" (it is supposed) a niemher of the Chideock fannly in mailed armour. To the antiquarian this little "grccn-set" Wessex town presents a few attractions in the form of oKi houses and buildings, which are chiefly situated in South Street ; whilst in the rear of a house on the sitie of the eastern bridge, where the final skirmish took place on that [une Sunday morning of long ago, are the remains of the once rich St John's Hospital. But we have concerned ourselves only with Bridport town : the truer Bridport, the quaint little " Port Bredv " of the Wessex novels of Thomas Hardy, is gratlually becoming an unsophisticated seaside resort, known and valued by the few on account of its picturcsqucness rather than visited by the many because of its social attractions. Its beach, skirting which are a few villas and still some of the old-time thatched cottages, is of finest shingle — so fine, indeed, that at first sight and from a little distance it is generally mistaken for sand — and the narrow entrance to the harbour and quays is flanked on either hand by clifFs which attain a considerable altitude. As a haven this little port is useless, the seas in storm time running too high in the wide expanse of the West Bay to make threading the needle- eye entrance to it a possibility without grave risk of disaster. It is just, as Mr Hardy puts, it "a gap in the rampart of hills which shut out the sea." 95 E I 1 • • . >»l Wcssex On Its tju.iy, at whiih .m occasional ketch discharges her car^o, stamis the famous (.corj^c- I. in, where King Charles II. I.iy when he came there a fugitive, and was nearly discovered hy a -nore than normally suspicious ostler and a more than usually logical blacksmith, who reasoned that, as the fugitive's horse had heen shoed m tour lounties, and one of them Worcestershire, the owner might he the person on whose head so high a price had been set. lo-day Briiiport-by-Sea is just a quiet, picturesque spot in which to find rest and peace from the over- eiiergetic and noisy work! without, with the open and uninterrupted expanse of the wide West Bay to the south, sunlit and storm-lashed by turns. Northward lie the green, undulating hills and vales of Wesscx. Some eight or nine miles to the west of Bridport lies the ancient and picturesque little town of Lyme Regis, which has probably played as great a part in the history of Wessex and the south of England as any town of its size. The road from Bridport is picturesque but hilly, and, starting some three miles inland, passes through Chideock and then skirts the high upland known as Stone Barrow Hill, and, running at the back of this, gradually approaches the coast again, until it winds into Lyme itself, which nestles in old-fashioned retirement upon the borders of the sister county of Devon. Lyme Regis is a quaint little townlet consisting of a few steep and narrow streets on the rocky and some- what wild portion of the coast which 'lies midway 96 Ancient Lyme Regis between Briilport to the cast ami Colyton in Devon to the west. Nowaiiays the little port, with its famous Cobb, has somewhat Jevelopcii as a quiet holiday resort ; but, like so many of the Dorset sea ports, it is of considerably less account than it was many years ago. The principal portion of the town has been built in the hollow anil on the slopes of a deep cooinbc, and in consequence it is a place of some picturesqueness. The principal street, indeed, may be almost said to be falling into the wat"r. Through the centre of the coombe or valley flows the little stream called the I.ym or Buildell, into the sea. Many years ago Leland described Lyme as "a pretty market town set in the rootes of an high rokky hille down to the hard shore," and the description is equally accurate at the present day. Small town though Lyme Regis has always been, a mention of it appears as early as the latter end of the eighth century, when by a charter of Kynewulf, king of Wessex, one manse was granted to the Abbey of Sherborne for the purpose of supplying the monks with salt. And as early as the reign of Kdward L it was enfranchised, and enjoyed the liberties apper- taining to a haven and a borough. By the reign of F-dward II L it had so far grown in importance that it was able to supply him with four ships and sixty-two seamen for the purposes of the siege of Calais. The town was several times almost ruined by the attacks of the French during the reigns of Henry IV. and Henry VI. But in 1544 the piratical French 97 7 m. Wessex invaders were defeated with heavy loss. Lyme appears to have soon recovered its prosperity, and a few years later we find it furnishing a couplo of ships, the Jacob and Revt'i!^t\ with a good complement of men, to join the fleet gathereii together for the purpose of defeating the Spanish Armada. Its history, like that of so many others of the smaller towns of Wessex, has been a very chequered one. It became tieeply involved in the Civil War between Charles and the Parliament, and was successfully held by the partisans of the latter against the King. The siege of Lyme, w* . h began on April 20, 1644, and lasted till June 15, was one of the most important in the west country throughout the progress of the war. The 'efence of the town was carried out with the greatest heroism by the inhabitants under the command of Colonel Seeley and Lieutenant- Colonel Blake, afterwards the famous admiral. The failure of the Royalist siege operations, which were under the direction of Prince Maurice himself, did much to injure the military reputation of this general. The besiegers concentrated their forces at Colway and Hay, having early captured these two houses, with the thirty men who were stationed as defenders in each. Altogether Prince Maurice had some three thousand men umicr his command, and batteries were speedily raiseil and several fierce assaults made upon the town, which soon began to suffer the hardships incidental to such a close investment. By the middle of May 98 < i'^ r?: m ii I 11 nil •• i; MVHMIIlclW OK TIIH RKiriiS of I II E SATIVE nil "(JUKI Wcl\1A\ "" 1\ MIllDI.K DIVIANCK. ' I Hi^ JM f '?'•' The Siege of Lyme provisions had run so short that there was some likeli- hood that the garrison would be forced to surrender, and at the beginning of the following month Colonel Seeley sent a letter to the "Committee of the two Kingdoms," urging that relief might be sent by land with provisions, or the town would undoubtedly be lost. Several sorties were made with a view of dis- lodging the besiegers from the new positions they had occupied, but the condition of the town was not improved, and both provisions and ammunition were running short. On the 1 5th of June news came of the approach of the Earl of Essex, who was reported to have reached Dorchester with a force numbering some thirteen thousand horse and foot, and Prince Maurice, becoming aware of this, raised the siege and marched away towards Bristol. Unfortunately, on the same day one of those terrible acts of fanaticism which often disfigure glorious pages of history and incidents of human courage and en- durance was perpetrated in the fields near Lyme, when some of the soldiers of the garrison, going to Colway and Hay House, now abandoned by the Royalists, found a poor old Irish woman who had been attached to the camp of the besiegers still there. They drove her through the streets to the water-side, where, after ill-treating and robbing her, they knocked her on the head, slashed and hewed her to pieces with their swords, and cast her mutilated body into the sea. Another account, that of Whitlock, states she was slain and almost pulled to pieces by the women of the town. 99 Ill I' Wessex With the raising of the siege, Lyme once more slipped back into its uneventful and old-world habits. But a little over forty years afterwards it was again brought into prominence by the disembarkation on June II, 1685, of the ill-fated Duke of Monmouth. The spot where he landed is now marked by a stone, and we are told by the historians that the Duke, as he set his foot on shore, fell upon his knees and thanked God for having preserved him thus far in his enterprise, and implored the Divine blessing upon his undertaking. A few months afterwards the unfortunate town, where for some time Monmouth had remained re- cruiting and drilling his forces, had to pay dearly for its connection with him. Early in September Judge Jeffreys condemned at Dor- chester thirteen Lyme Regis persons, several of whom were mere lads, for the part they had taken in the late rebellion, and these were executed in Lyme on September 12. One of the victims was a Dorchester youth of family and fortune, and of him Macaulay writes, " He was regarded as the model of a fine gentleman.'' This young fellow was engaged to the sister of the High Sheriff, and she threw herself at the feet of Jeffreys, begging for the life of her betrothed ; but the judge drove her from him with a hideous jest. From the date of the Monmouth rebellion the history of Lyme has been quite uneventful, and little of the trade which -t once enjoyed with foreign ports, more especially that of Morlaix in Brittany, now re- mains. In its early days salt, wine, wool, and a good 100 ^-m:^!^ ^^^j-^m Lyme Regis Cobb trade in elephants' tusks and gold dust brought from the African coasts did something towards maintaining the prosperity of the town ; and for years there was also a considerable trade in serges and linens, which was destroyed during the latter part of the seventeenth century by the war with France. The general commerce of the town may be said to have declined from that date until the end of the eighteenth century, when it became practically extinct. The prosperity it enjoys at the present day is not commercial, nor from its activity as a port, but has arisen of late years by reason of its coming into notice as a seaside holiday resort of a quiet type. It possesses few buildings of any note ; but the church of St Michael, which is a Perpendicular building carefully restored, is worth a visit. It contains an interesting Jacobean gallery and pulpit. During the siege the three best bells in the tower were cast into cannon. The famou= Cobb or pier, which is some i 1 80 feet in length, partakes rather of the nature of a break- water, although its chief use nowadays is to form a popular promenade. It probably dates from the time of Edward 1., and has done something to prevent the encroachment of the sea, which used to cause the inhabitants of Lyme a considerable amount of anxiety. Although the trade of the port has of late years still further declined, the little harbour is picturesque, and into it still come a considerable number of coasting vessels ; and there is an export trade of cement stones of some value. lOI t, Ij Wessex There are several literary associations with the town of Lymi^ l^'-'gi'^j ^^^ 'f was here that Miss Mitford spent a considerable portion of her youth, in the early years of the last century ; and here, too, stayed Jane Austen on several occasions, in a large white cottage at the harbour end of the little parade. The authoress not only in ail probability wrote at least portions of her novels at Lyme, but wove into the fabric of one in particular descriptions of scenery and characters which were more or less transcripts from life. Persuasion, at all events, contains much Lyme Regis matter, and Bay Cottage sets up a claim to be the original of Captain Harville's house. And it was from the steep flight of steps of the famous Cobb itself that Louisa Musgrove made her tragic leap. At various times many other literary celebrities, including the late Lord Tennyson, have visited or stayed at Lyme ; finding in its quietude and beautiful scenery rest for the body and inspiration for the mind. Lyme Regis is scarcely likely ever to re-develop into importance, but it still possesses many features of interest, more especially for the geologist and the lover of wild and beautiful scenery. A little distance to the west of the town is the " under-clifF," from which very fine panoramic views are obtainable, and not far from here is a spot of some considerable historical interest called White Chapel Rocks, from its having been the secret meeting-place for worship of Dissenters during the times of persecu- tion which succeeded the Restoration. Lyme Regis 102 ii« 8::C r • 1 It"- KMUAStI-. (.AlK, ( I.KK\ H AHHKV 1 illf Lyme Regis of To-day and the iTimctiiatc ru-ighhourhoml present a very fair specimen of a certain type of VVcssex coast scenery, and the district is pictures(jue. Nowadays during the summer months visitors add an air of life and activity to the town which seems strangely out of character with its old-world air and atmosphere. i •03 CHAPTER V SOME TOWNS OK NORTH WESSEX In the north of Wesscx there lies a group of towns forming by their position almost the three points of an equilateral triangle, with a fourth town but a little distance outside the area so covered. The first of the four, Sherborne, is close on the Somersetshire borders, and there are few more prettily situated p. aces in the whole of the north of Wessex. Kasily reached from almost all parts of the county by excellent roads and by two lines of railway, it is as accessible as any town m Wesscx. Much still remains of interest in Sherborne, which IS pleasantly placed on the southern slope of a steep hill overhanging the valley of the river Yeo. It is like many another Wessex town, more old-world- ookmg than actually possessed of great pretensions to loveliness ; but with its grand abbey church, equal to many a cathedral, and its ancient grammar school, it couki never be considered entirely lacking in elements of beauty. Ami there are in addition to these build- ings a large number of the old houses still remaining although, alas ! not a few of them have in quite recerU 104 St Aldhelm at Sherborne years been spoiled hy the proccie of restoring and ref renting. To the south side of the river the ground rises, and it 's here that some beautiful public walks have been laid out, commanding .1 wide view of the valley and surrounding country. The Anglo-Saxon name of the town, Scireburn, is derived from the clearness of the water of the river Yco or Ivel ; "scir" meaning bright, i':'-^;7;-r ~-f •■ ■- L I .1^ < il I «l SIR ir»' r I -i'^^S .,.^- 'rir^f^_ .J --1 Fifteenth-Century Sherborne Order of St Benedict into Sherborne Monastery ; and, so the chroniclers state, in view of the then expected Second Advent very severe reforms in the interest ot religion and morality were adopteil. 1 1, the Domesday Book it appears that the bishop was also temporarily lord of the town, whilst nine neighbouring manors were devoted to the maintenance of the monks whose abbot he was. In the reign of Henry I., however, Roger of Caen, the King's chief minister, separated the two offices of bishop and abbot. Not the least interesting fact in connection with the beautiful Abbey of Sherborne is that of its growth, which seems to have been coincident with that of the religious sentiment of the country at large ; and indeed in its architecture may still be traced the different periods of the religious life of the district. During the fifteenth century very considerable differ- ences occurred between the inhabitants of Sherborne and the monks. These arose from the fact that the latter had allowed the former to use the lower portion of the nave of the abbey as a parish church, thus bringing about a state of affairs by which the abbey became part conventual and part parochial in character. This arrangement seems to have satisfied neither party ; and towards the end of the fourteenth century the Abbot erected a large chapel with six bays at the west end of the abbey church for the use of the townsfolk. This building was known as All Hallows. The strained relationship which existed betwe-en the townspeople 107 ( r-: Wessex and the monks seems to have culminated in 1436-37, when a question arose as to whether the children of the townspeople should be baptized in a new font erected by certain parishioners in the parish church or in the abbey font, which latter had been removed by the monks from its original position to an inconvenient part of the church. The monks had at the same time blocked up a certain door of communication between the two churches, situated in the western end of the south aisle, to the great annoyance and inconvenience of the parishioners. These took the extraordinary means of ventilating their grievance by an unseemiy ringing of bells, which disturbed the conventual services. The situation created by this action ultimately became so acute that in 1437 a direct appeal was made to Robert \evil, Bishop of Salisbury, who in his ordinance, made upon this matter, directed "that the said font which had been thus newly and with daring rashness erected should be altogether destroyed and removed and carried out of the church by those who have caused it to be erected " : adding " that the baptismal font of the said monastery should be set up and replaced in its old accustomed place, and that the infants born or to be born in the said town should be baptized therein according to ancient custom, and that the aforesaid intermediate door and entrance for the procession of the parishioners to reach the font shall be enlarged and arched, so as to give more ample space, and restore it to its previous form." It would appear that the Bishop realised that there 108 The Burning of Sherborne were faults on both sides, and his ordinance appeared to be a very diplomatic one. But nevertheless his ruling failed to give satisfaction, and we are told that a stout butcher named Walter Gallor, who sided with the monks, took upon himself to break the new font, to the great exasperation of the townsfolk, which culminated in a riot, when we are told "the latter were aided by the Erie of Huntindune lying in those quarters." During the disturbance a priest of the parish church shot a shaft with fire into that part of the abbey dividing the eastern portion used by the monks from the west used by the townspeople, and as at that time it chanced that the part of the roof into which the arrow was shot was thatched, it was set on fire, and a great part of the church was damaged, and the lead and bells melted. This catastrophe rendered necessary the rebuilding of a portion of the church, and the whole eastern wing was pulled down and the present beautiful choir erected, during the time of Abbot Bradford (i437-59)- The townspeople were compelled, by reason of the destruction wrought by their rioting, to contribute substantially to the cost of rebuilding. On com- pletion of the new choir, the old nave was rebuilt in the Perpendicular style by the Abbot Peter de Rampisham (1475-1504)- It would seem, from the fact that the Norman piers of the nave were not taken down, bu" merely re-cased, that this portion of the church suffered less from the fire. The transepts still retain their Norman masonry, but have had large 109 n 1 L I II i Wessex Perpendicular windows inserted, with roofs of the same style. The three tower arches, with their plain Norman semicircles, look strangely out of character in the midst of the richness of surrounding archi- tecture. The great tenor bell of the abbey was the gift of Cardinal Wolsey, and was the smallest of seven brought over by him from his see of Tournay. It bears the following motto : Bv VVolst-y's gift I measure time for all : 1(1 mirth, to grief, to church, I serve to call. Wolsey was in the early part of his ecclesiastical career at I.imington, near Ilchcster. The interior of the church is of great beauty, and especially noticeable is the framed roof of the south transept, which is of black Irish oak. The church contains several memorials of the Digby family, and an interesting epitaph by Pope to the children of Lord Digby (1727). Both the nave and choir are very fine, the former being most elaborate in its ornamentation, and having bays and a clerestory of five-light windows in the Perpendicular style. A notable feature of the clerestory is its extreme height in proportion to that of the church itself. The choir possesses three bays, with a lofty clerestory, and the enrichments of the groined roof are very noticeable. The glass in the clerestory windows contains figures of the saints and bishops of Sherborne, the rcrcdos depicting in high relief the Ascension and the I -1st Supper, set within a moulding of Caen stone. Very exquisite are the throne, sedilia, 110 i II i m \ IM 1 MKIII in \ lllil S . -Ml HMUKSI i -JTT' Sherborne Abbey and the carved work of the stalls. The north choir aisle contains two interesting altar-tombs, one bearing the figure of Abbot Clement (116;^), and another of an unknown ecclesiastic. Of the various chapels, that of the Holy Sepulchre occupies the east angle of the south transept, whilst that of St Catherine is in the west angle. The supposed burial-place of King Ethclbert and King Kthelbald is in the procession path behind the high altar. Bishop Roger's chapel is situated north of the choir aisle, and the Wickham chapel, containing the fine canopy tomb of Sir John Horsey, who died i 546, is situated on the eastern side of the north transept. The old chapter-house was under the dormitory, and was a vaulted building in the Early English style, the walls being adorned with frescoes ; but where it stood is now the lawn of the headm.aster of the school. The Early English Lady Chapel, which was situated to the east of the choir, escaped the fire in 1437, and was, according to Leland, a very fine example of the work of the period ; but at the dissolution of the monas- teries by Henry VIII. it was partly pulled down. The portion left standing, and also the chapel of Our l^dy of Bow, v.'hich had been built at the eastern end of the south aisle by Robert de Rampisham, was then turned into a residence for the headmaster of the school founded by Edward VI. in 1550. When the new schoolhouse was built, the old one was turned into a school hospital. The delicate fan-tracery vault of the chapel of Our I^ady of Bow formerly formed the III il h milt I .-ir-^l^ Wessex ceiling of the virawinij-room, atul a portion of the tine F.arly iMiglish vaulting of the Lady Chapel itself is still to he seen in one of the bedrooms. The whf)le church presents a wonderfully rich and harmonious picture, equalled in general effect by no other Wessex church ; and, indeed, its beauty of diesign ami tlecoration is in many respects unique. I-'rom the choir, looking south-west, the excjuisite windows and decorations of the roof are seen to full advantage, and even the effect of the ancient tire, which is to he traced in the deep red of the stone-work, appears in places to add beauty and a mellowness to the whole. The present beauty and good repair of this tine abbey church are almost entirely due to the splendid and, alas ! unusual munificence of the Digby family, who first in [848 and afterwards in 1856 com- pleted the nave, transepts, choir, and aisles, at a cost of more than i]o,Qcc. Scarcely too much praise can be bestowed upon the extraordinary skill and success of Messrs Carpenter & Slater, in whose hands the work of restoration was placed. Many authorities are wont to point to the restoration of Sherborne Church as reaching that high ideal at which all such attempts, if undertaken, should aim. Ot the remains of the abbey buildings, which originally were very extensive, and lay on \he north of the church, little can now be discovered, and all these traces have been inu)rporated in the buildings of the (irammar School, which has so high a reputation 1 12 r- t - X •^^ Ancient Buildings amongst Wesscx teaching institutions. The present dining-hall was built in 1670, and was the old sdiool- room, and it contains a statue of its founder. The old Guesten Chamber or hall, with its very tine oak roof, now serves the purpose of the librar), which contains some ^500 volumes, some of great value, including some volumes of oUi music ami an excellent Aldine " F.uripides." This was once and for a con- siderable period used as a silk-mill. Adjoining is the chapel built in 1S55 h\ Mr Slater, whilst further north are the remains of the Abbot's house. The head- master's house, (iormitories, and other offices occupy a position on the eastern side of the court. In the town itself, which conf is many olil build- ings, the chief objects of antiquarian id artistic interest are the ancient or .Abbey Coivluit, .)uilt in i ■',49, 1^' Archbishop Frith, staniiing at the bottom of Chepe Street, to which spot it was removed by Sir John Horsey from its original position in the centre of the cloisters; and the Church Hou ", sadly mutilated, but interesting and deserving ?unice, situated on the south side of the .Abbey Close, facing Half Moon Street. bew visitors to this ancient and interesting town will overlook the fine .Almshouse, or, as it was originally called, the Hospital of St John Baptist, founded in 1406 on the lines of a still oKier organisa- tion. The buildings erected in 1448 present many features of interest, including the hall and dormitories, each opening to the east into a chapel. New buildings 11; 8 1 I ,". I I!" i m irfi''^'*^ I W X of J. rcilly admirable type were crcctc.l in 1865 by Mr Slater. To other iiiterestinL,^ and picturesque buildings of a domestic character it is unnecessary to refer in detail ■ but wanderers m Wcssex who possess a love for ancient thin<,rs and the seeing eye for beauty or quain^ -.ess in architecture will find ve.-v little difficulty in discovering these for themselves. There are in Long iMreet, towards the eastern part of the town, several old houses worthy of examination. The ancient castle, of which considerable remains are still standing on a small wooded hill, was a place of strength and miportance from very early times, and was the principal residence of the Bishops of Sherborne. VVilluim the Conqueror confirmed it to the see of Sarum m the early part of his reign. The existing castle, of which the keep and the gatehouse are the chief remains, was built by Bishop Roger, chancellor to King Henry 1., ,n i [07^42. Afterwards, the Bishop having joined the party of the Empress Maud, the fortress was sei/.ed in i r 39 by King Stephen,' recaptured a little later by the Empress's "forces, and remained as Cru overset, I he ringer's tee vou must expect. North Wall What musick is there that compar'd may be I'o well-tun'd bells' enchanting melody ; Breaking with their sweet sound the willing air, And in the list'ning ear the soul ensnare. When bells ring round, and in their order be, I he) do denote how neighbours should agre ; But if they clam, the harsh sound spoils the sport. And 'tis like women keeping Dover Court. And in the Touer, on the six bells, are some quaint mottoes : — 1. A wonder great mv eye I fix, Where was but three \ou may see six. 1684. T.P. 2. When 1 do ring, prepare to prav. R.A.S. T.B. 1670. 3. William Cockev, bell-founder, 1738. 4. Mr. Henrv Saunders and Mr. Richard Wilkins c" w*^ W.C. 1-38. 124 i ' ^U Ill A N.wov ( HI |<( II IV w |^s|.;\ i f 1 ^i I I I The "Clubmen" 5. While thus wc join 111 Chcarfiil xiund, Mav lovr .iiul loyalty abi>ui)d. H. Oram, c. warden. R. Wells, Aldb»iuriic, fecit, 177b. f>. When v<>" I'ear me for to toll, Then prav to (Jod to save the soul. Anno Domini 1672. T.H.R.W.C.W. T.P. Holy Trinity, once an important ihurch, ami still the chief one of the town, was pulled down and entirely rebuilt in 1842. Unfortunately, this happened before the revival in ecclesiastical architecture. The result i« .1 rather commonplace ami inelegant structure. During the great Civil War Shaftesbury was occasion- ally the scene of minor skirmishes, and was alternately held by the forces of the King and the Parliament. In 1 644 a considerable body of mercenaries who were hired to aid the rebellion overran the country round about the town, quartering themselves on the peaceful inhabitants of the latter, and fining some of them at their own sweet will as much as j^iooo each. A neutral body of Clubmen, formed with the inten- tion of protecting the district from both Royalists and Parliamentarians, met in the August of the following year, when fifty of their leaders were seized by Fleetwood and his troopers, who had descended on the town for that purpose from Sherborne, and the main body was afterwards defeated by Cromwell him- self at Hambledon Hill, some ten miles distant. Shaftesbury, standing as it does on a hill, was formerly but indifferently supplied with spring-water, and the 121; (-0 Wcssex supply oi this h;iJ, therefore, in olden days to be brought on horses' hacks from a spot near Motcombe, in the parish of Gillingham. But eventually, by the generosity or the then Marquis of Westminster, to whom the estates belongfvi, engines and reservoirs were constructed in the town itself, conveying a good supply of pure water direct to the houses. In connection with .his ancient method of obtaining water there arose a curious custom. On the Monday before Holy Thursday the Mayor proceeded, accompanied by many of the townsfolk,' to Mnmore Oeen, Motcombe, with a large broom or besom decked like a May-garland, and this, with a calf's head, a pair of gloves, a gallon of ale, and two penny loaves, was handed to the steward of the manor as an a,.knowledgment for the water-supply. At the con- clusion of the ceremony these curious properties were returned to the Mayor and brought back to the town with great pomp. This quaint c'ustom, however, was discontinued about the end of the third decade of the last century. Close by here, at Motcombe, resided the original of Fielding's I'arson Trulliber, who was in reality a Rev. Oliver, at one time curate at Motcombe. The great novelist himself resided at i-'.ast Stower, about rive miles from Shaftesbury, in the Manor House, which was pulled down in 18^5. The property belonged to his mother, at whose death Fielding had settled there with his rirst wife ; but owing to reckless extravagance he in three years entirely exhausted the resources of the property. Another character of Fielding's was the 126 Gillingham Rev. William Youml;, at this perioii incumbent of West Stowcr, and editor ot Ainsworth's Dictionary. He was generally supposed to he the prototype of the novelist's I^irson Adams. [•rom Shaftesluiry to (iillinghani the main road runs north-west through pretty country, well watered by the streams of the I.idderi and Stour ; and a stretch of rive miles of good and almost straight road takes the traveller to Gillingham, which, situated in the extreme northern corner of the county of Dorset, is one of the most prosperous present-day Wessex towns. Near it three Wessex rivers — the Shreen Water, I.idden, and Stour — unite. The town is surrounded by rich and wooded pasture lands, and is picturesquely situated. It owes its modern prosperity chiefly to the fact that within its contines are situated flour, silk, rope and twii mills, whilst there is also a considerable manufacture of sacking, flax, bricks, and tiles. (jillingham is one of the ancient towns of Wessex, and is mentioned in the Saxon Chronicle, where there is an account of the battle of Gillingham, fought between Canute the Dane and Edmund Ironside at Penn, just over the border of Somersetshire ; but this event, in which the Danes were so disastrously defeated, has always been known as the battle of (iillmga, or Gillingham. It seems more than probable that the flying Danes were pursued from Penn right into Gillingham, •, there is still a gate of the town known as Slaugh r's Gate ; and near this spot many years ago remains of hastily buried bodies 127 il U ' )fl'«t 1 1 i I Wessex were discovered. On the site of the battle itselt there are some very interesting remains of trenches or fortifications. Just a quarter of a century later, Malmesbury states, a grand council was held at Gillingham, at which Edward the Confessor was elected King ; and at the end of the eleventh century King William Rufus himself, probably whilst on a hunting expedition, met the Archbishop Anselm here. And there was also a hunting lodge hard by much in favour with the earlier kings of England. King John visited it frequently, and it is recorded that Edward I. spent his Christmas here in 1270. In ancient times it was a royal forest, frequendy assigned as a dowry to the wife of the King, and it was thus held in succession by Margaret of France, Margaret of Anjou, and by no less than three of Henry VIII. 's wives — Jane Seymour, Catherine Howard, and Catherine Parr, — and also by Am of Denmark. The church, once a beautiful and ancient fabric, was restored in the early part of the nineteenth century, except the chancel, which is a good example of the Decorated style. It is now a rather meagre-looking Gothic building, but it contains some interesting memorials. Of the old palace of Gillingham, which was erected by Saxor. or Norman kings to serve them as a resi- dence when hunting in the neighbourhood, hardly any traces, save overgrown foundations, remain ; but from 128 j^V^'^'^r ■i--, /\r*5r-?=; A » v>^h \ 11 vno 1 \i|\l . I - . <•■ 4S ^-'f'm 1 -j'---jb^/ m .•I J '^ttf-::?rii^^:*s:.:\/f.i: Cranborne Chase these antiquarians are able to trace its size and importance. In Gillingham itself there are few old buildings left, but it is a pleasantly situated town, with much of interest in the country round about it. Here was born Charles Gildon, the poet Pope's bitter critic, of whom it was said that he wrote T/ie English An of Poem; which he had practised himself very unsuccess- fully in his dramatic performances, and thus he seems to have carried out the adage that " a critic is one who has failed in literature." To reach Blandford, a central Wessex town, by the most picturesque and desirable manner, the wayfarer must return to Shaftesbury, from whence run two roads presenting widely different features of scenery, but both of almost the same length and equally desirable from a picturesque point of view. The upper road runs for some distance along a ridge of high chalk downs, and is of course somewhat hilly ; but the traveller who takes it will be well repaid by the magnificent prospect which lies spreail out beneath him. On the left hand, to the eastward, is the wooded expanse of Cranborne Chase and distant, rising uplands ; whilst on the right hand, to the west, is a wide expanse of well-watered and fertile valley, through which the Stour meanders in wonderful convolutions. And in this valley are scattered some of the prettiest villages of all Wessex. The lower road is easier and less hilly ; but whilst it is picturesque and extremely pretty in places, there is not the wide open prospect which is obtainable along 129 9 i I ' III ■ ■£— .-^■^ :--' 1 W t#'P " •-r^f^r 1 t Wessex the hill road. The last mile or two of this valley road wituls quite close to the Stour, two or three lovely peeps of which are obtainable through gaps in the hetl^es and during the last ascent into Blandford. This little market town, which takes its name from one of the chief fords of the beautiful river Stour, is a typical Wessex town of an old-world yet prosperous type. I-ying within a bend of the river Stour, it is almost surrounded by meaiiows and woods, and in the town itself are many trees, springing up, patches of greenery, amidst the sea of picturesque gables, chimneys, and weather-stained roofs. Environing it are airy downs and open country, which render its surroundings very healthy and bracing. Seen from the railway embankment, it presents a singularly picturesque appearance ; and although the town contains com- paratively few of its old-time houses, a large proportion of the existing buildings date from a few years after the great fire of 1731. The derivation of the name Blandford is somewhat obscure ; it is probably deriveci from the British Blaen Ford, that is to say, the front of the ford ; and it seems to have arisen from, a mistaken idea that it was the ford over the Allen or Alauna, instead of being a ford of the Avon. Although Blandford is of undoubted antiquity, and has been identified with the settlement of Ibelnium, ther^ are few traces of the Romans or even Saxons in the immediate neighbourhood, nor is it easy to identify the present town with either of those mcn- i30 , I Old-time Blandford tinned in the Domesday Book. The fact, however, that it was a market so early as the reign of Henry 111. may be taken as good evidence of its importance and prosperity at a very early period. I'cw records, however, survived the terrible fire of 1711, in which all but forty houses were burnt down, ami no fewer than fourteen lives lost ; and in addition, we are told, " many people died from fright, over-exertion, and grief at the terrible tiestruction of their property." Karly in its history public horse-races were established, and its markets and fairs in ancient times were im- portant events, not only for the town itself, but also for the district round about. The horse-races were held in high favour by the town authorities as early as the first years of the seventeenth century, for not only do they appear to have worked the races upon a commercial basis, but it is evident, from entries made by the town steward, that these occasions were events of festivity and amusement. " Professional players " were engaged, and an in- teresting bill is extant of the cost of their entertain- ment, and the receipts which were derived, not only from the performances of the play for six nights, but also from the economical sale of such items as bread and beef, fish and candles, suet and dripping left over ! Nearly all the country gentry appear to have attended the festivities, and a list of the carriages which were admitted to the course shows in what high favour the entcruinment was held by high and low alike. In olden days Blandford, although possessing no 131 id J I I I ! i hJ Wessex very important or extensive manufacture, was cele- brateii for the making of hand strings, and also for a variety of point lace which the author of tA Tour through the fi^/wie Island of Great Britain, in the early part of the eighteenth century, stated was not inferior to the lace of Flanders, France, or Italy. He mentions that the best ' it fetched as much as ^t^o sterling per yard. The town in the first half of the seventeenth century also possessed at least one maker of stained glass of some note ; and it is more than probable that a considerable amount of the stained glass in the churches of Wessex came from the furnaces and shops of the worker who was known as " Old Harding " of Blandford. The town has played no very important part in history, but it suffered severely for its sturdy loyalty to the King during the Civil War. However, not being a fortified place, it fell a fairly easy prey into the hands of the contending parties ; for in May 1643 the Parliamentary authorities despatched a piece of cannon and some men against Blandford, and a little later in the year the Roundhead forces under Sir William Waller levied a contribution of the amount of /coo sterling — in those days a very considerable sum — on the unfortunate townsfolk. A little later the same year further contributions were levied at various times, amounting to a sum of upwards of ;^iooo. The Royalists, when in possession of Blandford, appear to have treated the townsfolk with considerably more leniency, although the county paid very heavy con- 132 H! 'M IIIK \i.M>tlc)i '^ >, (lll<^H.^^l, »ii.i- t ,i ,rr „*;.>-:-',--- Blandford Worthies tribut-.ons to the Royalist cause. In 1644, Essex and his army lay at Blandford for a short time ; and in July of the same year the unfortunate town was plundered by Major Sydenham and other Parliamentary officers. From that period to the date of the great fire the town's history was uneventful, and, far removed from the coast, it seems to have been much less troubled by fears of the Napoleonic invasion than many other Wessex towns. But if the history of Blandford has been unmarked since the middle of the seventeenth c ntury by any great historical event, it can congratulate itself on having produced many men who were destined to become eminent in the professions of literature, the army, and the Church. Two at least of the Arch- bishops of England and Ireland, William Wake of Canterbury, Thomas Lindesay of Armagh, besides many ripe scholars, such as Christopher Pitt, Bruno Ryves, Alfred Stevens, the designer of the W'ellington monument in St Paul's Cathedral, and Thomas Creech, had for their native place this little Wessex town ; and one of the ablest and best of the Nonconformists of the early part of the last century, John Angell James, was also born here. Of ancient buildings, owing to the fires which have at various times visited and destroyed the town, Blandford possesses few, and its principal church is a comparatively modern building of no particular interest. On the outskirts of the town are some few remains '33 ' i I ' f 1 H Wessex of Damory Court, which in the reign of Edward 11. was the residence of Roger D'Amorie, Constable of Corfe Castle ; and near by stood the famous Damory s Oak, which had the marvellous circumference of 68 feet 'at its base, and in olden times, being hollow, was inhabited first by a hermit-like indi%'idual, and afterwards, so tradition asserts, by a whole family. In the immediate neighbourhood of the town are several more or less modern country seats, chief amongst which are those of Lord Portman at Bryan- ston Park, and of Lord Wolverton at Iwerne Minster. The former estate is a very ancient one, and takes its name from Brian de Insula, its owner under King John. It passed into the possession of the Portman family by purchase, and the Portman who was owner at the end of the seventeenth century was one of the first magnates to rally to the standard of William of Orange. At a little distance further afield from Blandford is the now deserted manor house of Eastbury, which was built by V'anbrugh for George Doddington, once I-ord of the Admiralty, out of monies which, report states, he acquired none too honestly during his term of ottice. Before the lordly pleasure-house which he had planned was completed, Doddington died, leaving it and all his wealth to George Bubb Doddington, who became Lord Melcombe, and spent an almost inconceivable Kum in completing the mansion. Here he resided for man) years, entertaining a Lrge number of those who were celebrated in Literature and Art ; and on his ■34 ' III I i t IfTfjff^ »• XU.l.RI K^ I'AKK 4 f! W i ^ ^ The Phantom Coach death the house and estate passed into the possession of the Temple family, who, being unable to afford the heavy expenditure necessary to keep up the place, actually offered that anyone who would occupy it and keep it in repair should live there rent free and also have i,200 a year for doing so. But no one under- took to do this, and the house was allowed to fall into disrepair, and was gradually dismembered and pulled down, with the exception of one wing. Eastbury has a similar distinction to that of many west-country mansions, in that it is reputed to be haunted ; and just as the Turberville phantom coach is said to pass at certain times over the old Elizabethan bridge at Wool, so does a phantom vehicle driven by a headless coachman issue through the iron gates of this old deserted mansion, to the frightening of yokels who see, or fancy they see, it. Indeed, there are still those living whom it is impossible to persuade that this ghostly equipage exists only in disturbed imaginations. •35 ■UhiiiiiiiiHii w CHAPTER VI A CROUP OF OUTER WESSEX TOWKS There are many interesting and picturesque towns in what may very properly be called for the purposes of this book " Outer Wessex " ; but it is obviously only possible, within the limited compass of a volume of the present type, to include a reference to those which have some outstanding historical, literary, antiquarian, or picturesque interest. One of the most characteristic types of an old Wessex town is to be found in Dunster, situated on the North Somersetshire coast, nestling almost at the foot of lofty Grabhurst Hill, and distant about three miles from picturesque Minehead. Here, indeed, is a place still typical of the old-world character and the old-world life of many Outer Wessex towns of the days gone by. Quaint, steeply winding streets, a market cross, and an ivy-grown and ancient castle rising ,.bove all make :i picture of great beauty and charm. And in Dunster folk one still finds types with which Wessex history and Wessex character have become identified. The town is extremely ancient, and date> from early «36 ^m m: VWa -ag M^i^- :^ DI'VSim (Atll.h AMI ^AltN MAHKKI I I 1 ! :<<^e^^. •^'^ ' i ', i (I 1 III it II '^^^ MICROCOPY RE501UTION TEST CHART ANSI and ISO TfSI CHART No 2 1.0 I.I 125 |- m 1 ^-^ u, m 1 2.2 1 1^ 1 = ^ |4C l. las I- 2.0 1.8 il 1.6 i ii ^ .-APPLIED INA^GE Inc .i!' 1' 1 I I [♦1 ! I ^^t ?^(_-.f^: ^-^^;0^^.^^^^^:4, Ancient Dunster Saxon times. In the Domesday Book it is called Torre, which name was probably derived from the fact that from early times there was a fortress built here which was called the Torre or Tower. After- wards the word June^ meaning hill, was prefixed, and the place henceforward became known as Dures- torre, or the castle or tower on a hill, from which, of course, the modern name Dunster is derived. The town is beautifully situated on the woodeil slopes of Grabhurst HiU ; and in the immediate neigh- bourhood is some of the finest and most lovely scenery of all Outer Wessex. Dunster Church, Castle, the famous Luttrell Arms Inn, and the ancient wooden Yarn Market are the chief objects of interest, although many a quaint house and narrow by-lane, whilst adding to the old-time character of the town, provides additional charm for seekers after the picturesque. The ancient church, of cruciform character, and possessing a handsome central tower, is far greater in size and importance than one would expect to find in so small a town. Its size, however, is explained from the fact that it was anciently connected with a cell of the Abbey of Bath founded at Dunster in the reign of William the Conqueror by Sir William de Mohun. Of this cell some slight remains were found among the buildings of the farm situated to the north of the choir. The earliest written record of the church states that the tower was not existent in the last year of the fifteenth century ; but it is probable that there was a church of some size at Dunster far earlier. The ^37 tj i I Wessex building, as is the case with many other conventual ones, actually contains two churches under one roof ; and this state of affairs existed so far buck as 1499, when the Abbot of Glastonbury decided that the mon- astic choir should he reserved for the sole use of the monks, and a new choir be made for the parishioners in the nave of the church itself, in consequence of the dispute which had arisen between the vicar of the parish and the prior of the cell. The choir, formerly reserved for the use of the monks, passed at the dissolution of the monasteries into the hands of the owners of the castle, and was allowed to fall into a terrible state of disrepair. The old priory church and the parish church now form one building, but the interior, owing to want of height in the nave and its rather unusual breadth, is somewhat gloomy and heavy. It has, however, been well restored by Street, the nave being separated from the rest of the church by a notably fine rood screen. There is a curious preserva- tion of one of the original Norman arches of the lantern spanning the nave on the west side of the tower, but a later arch of a concurrent date to that of the tower has been constructed under it. In the choir are several monuments to members of the Mohun and Luttrell families of considerable interest, more parti- cularly the alabaster effigies of a knight and dc.ie in the pretty but mutilated chantry situated on the north side. On the whole, the interior is less impressive than the exterior, and there is little of interest save to the antiquarian and student of architecture. 138 r^ ^?^. ?iKH: SMT:' The Famous Luttrell Arms Most people who visit Dunster soon seek the beautiful and ancient inn known as the Luttrell Arms, about whose ancient rooms there still hangs a flavour and atmosphere of old-time romance — so marked, indeed, that one almost expects to see knights and dames and esquires seated at the tables or by the fireside, and to hear outside, not the sound of automobile horns, but those of post-chaises and mail-coaches. And at evening, when the shadows fall in the old courtyard and steal in through the ancient windows, one would scarcely be surprised at the sudden advent of some knight of the road in the mask and riding-cloak of the typical highwaymen of romance. This ancient inn contains a wealth of picturesqueness which the student of architecture and the lover of the beautiful will devoutly hope may be long preserved. The carved ceiling in the "commercial" room is one of great interest and of considerable beauty. Upstairs, in one of the bedrooms, is a richly carved chimney-piece with two full-length women's figures dressed in the costumes of the Elizabethan period, and other carving representing the fable of Actaton. The occupier of this room need never be at a loss for something to interest him, and scarcely anywhere out of the old manor houses of the west country will a finer fireplace be found. The remains of the old chapel are at the back of the house, and there are also some fine muUioned wind )ws in this portion of the building. Just outside the confines of the garden, which in summer is a wealth of flowers and foliage, on the hillside, are the remains of 139 ^4^ ill !\ f' Wesscx the earthworks which were constructed by the besieging Parliamentarian forces whilst the attack on the castle was being made. The Yarn Market, a picturesque wooden gabled building of great interest and antiquity, situated in the centre of the main street, recalls the time when Dunster was noted as a place of manufacture of kerseymere, which in ancient times bore the name of the town ; and on the southern slope of Grabhurst Hill are still to be seen the remains of the terraces on which the frames used for drying the cloth stood. This old market hall is almost unique in the west country, and is one of the most interesting survivals of the com- mercial past in the West. Dunster Castle, environed by trees, stands above the villlage street upon the Torre, the slopes of which run down to the vale of the Avill, with fine views of the wild hill-crest of Grabhurst and of the neighbouring sea-coast. This fine medieval stronghold has been the seat of the Mohun and Luttrell families since the reign of Henry IV. It was built in the twelfth century by one William de Mohun, and was held by him during the war between King Stephen and the Empress Maud for the latter. And although the King marched to attack Dunster, he soon abandoned the idea of taking so extraordinarily strong a place by the usual methods of assault, and contented himself by erecting a fort for the purpose of keeping De Mohun in check. And, abandoning any direct attempt on the castle, left Henry de Tracy of Barnstaple, one of his most faithful 140 ?- --'>' 'jTia il -r:-^-. m^ 1 rnK VAitip tn nu irriKKi.i. akm>, ih.n^ikk 1 ^^r^-: i I i s f I H i. I "' "»-"J*-*"" §.%■ 1.1 i Dunster Castle adherents, in authority to try atui prevent Mohun's further devastations of the neighbourhood. Of the old castle very little now reni;uns ; the major portion of the present building; was erected in the reign of Elizabeth, but the great gateway is probably " the fair Tourre by north curnmying into the castle which was built in the reign of Henry VII. by Sir Hugh Luttrell." This ancient castle has seen many vicissitudes, and was doubtless in medixval times one of the greatest strongholds of the west country. Very early in the Civil War it was captured by the Marquis of Hertford and held by him for the King until it was subsequently successfully besieged and captured by Blake in 1646. In 1650 the Parliamentary party seem to have pulled down the magnificent keep, as a means of partially dismantling the place. In the immediate neighbourhood of Dunster is some of the wildest as well as the most beautiful scenery in Outer Wessex. Elxquisite glens and wooded combes along the coast ; and inland the great spurs of the Quantock Hills and the wild and stern Exmoor, make the whole district round about one of peculiar variety of charm and picturesqueness. Between Dunster and Glastonbury lie the beautiful Quantock and Polden Hills, and in the hollow bounded by these two ranges are some of the richest grazing grounds in England, as well as much picturesque if somewhat flat scenery. Glastonbury is one of the Wessex towns which 141 ■i'i»'| 1 Wcssex undoubtaily owed its oKl-time importance to the presence- of a monastic institution. It was one of the earliest centres of Christianity in Knglaml, and it was in those days an islam! rising in the estuary of the Brue, whose unusually clear waters are popularly supposed to have given the spot its name. It was known in Anglo-Saxon times as Glx-stingahyrig, and the modern name of (ilastonhury is derived from the British word " glas," signifying blue, from the colour of the waters surrouiuling it. To the Britons the place was also known by the name of Avalon or " Appletree Island," which name was adopted by the Romans, who called it liisula Avallonia, which was the mystical isle of Avalon, where tradition placed the sepulture of Arthur of romance, where he really only slept, to awake in due time to become the avenger of his country's wrongs. Tennyson wrote of this spot : — I'hc island valley of Avilion, Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow. Nor ever wind blows loudly, but it lies Dcep-meadowcd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowcrv hollows crowned with summer sea. It was here that the body of Guinevere was brought for burial from Amcsbury, to be interred in the same rude coffin as that of her husband, which had been hollowed from the trunk of an oak-tree. The spot where they were buried was firsi marked by two tall stone crosses, between which the royal pair lay for several centuries. But when Henry II. was 142 -Tl*:: _yh_<^ King Arthur and Guinevere ,it St David's, assembling the fleet with which he was "-eekiug to complete the conquest of irehuul, he re(]uestcd the Abbot of (ilastoribury, v/ha was his nephew, to have the remains of Arthur and (iuinevcre reinoveil from the open grounvl in which they lay to a more honourable resting-place within the abbey itself. Tradition states that a search was acc<»rdingly made, and at a depth of some sixteen feet an enormous oak trunk was discovered, containing two cavities, in one of which lav the skeleton of a gigantic man some eight feet in height, and in the other the smaller skeleton of a woman. Among the bones of the latter, reputed to be those of traitorous but repentant Guinevere, was found a large and exquisite plait of golden hair, still shining and iiright as the day when it graced the head of the woman whose beauty had been sung by so many ancient bards. This, however, crumbled to dust im- mediately it was touched by a monk, who attempted to raise it from the recess in which it lay. The bones were removed to the church and subsequently re- interred in a spot before the high altar, where they were visited by several royal pilgrims, and were seen by Leyland in the middle of the sixteenth century. I'or a long time the skulls of Arthur and Guinevere were placed outside the shrine for the adoration of the people, and ihe abbey became a regular place of pilgrimage, not only for the immediate neighbourhood, but for p. largely extended district in the west country. Glastonbury has a great interest from the fact of its connection with the early religious history not only 143 1 i u ms^i'i ^l Wessex of Wessex, but of the country at large. Joseph of Arimathea is by tradition believed to have been the founder of the abbey. The story goes that Joseph was sent here as a missionary with eleven companions by St Philip about a d. 6 ], when the latter was preaching in France. Joseph and his companions appear to have met with great opposition in their efforts to evangelise England, and were compelled to take refuge on the island now known as Glastonbury, but which in those days was covered with thickets and brushwood, and was also rendered almost inaccessible from its position in the boggy estuary of the river Brue. Even eleven centuries later Glastonbury was, according to William of Malmesbury, a town set in a morass, and reached with difficulty and only on foot or horseback. At the time of Joseph of Arimathea's visit it must have been almost inaccessible. It was here, on this deserted spot, that Joseph and his companions built a small wattled chapel in honour of the Virgin. But Christianity made little progress, the original missionaries died off, and the little chapel was lost sight of until a.d. i66. In that year Pope Eleutherius sent two missionaries to Britain, who in the course of their travels discovered the little chapel and received supernatural information of its origin and its dedica- tion. In consequence of this, they settled on the spot and re-established a religious shrine. St Patrick hin- -elf visited Glastonbury three hundred years later, and bee? me the first Abboi. The fame 144 11 ' ti rrf*?^r. (;l.A>r(ISHI R\ AllUK") Ifi'^' n r^ ! I ^ .^^:.,...,,^:,^.^^^^^^^^^™ ^^ N 1 1 I * ! ■* f "^CTW^^^^ ■'-it St Dunstan of the abbey spread, and it became a favourite place of pilgrimage. It was here that Guildas the historian died in 512, and about twenty years later, at the instance of St Paulinus, Archbishop of York, the little wattled structure of St Joseph was covered with boards and cased in lead as a precious relic. Some hundred and seventy years later, about 700, King Ina, on the advice of St Aldhelm, built and endowed a monastery at Glastonbury, and founded the " Major Kcclesia" in honour of St Peter and St Paul ; this was partially destroyed by the Danes, but was thoroughly rebuilt by the great Dunstan, who was born at Glaston- bury. It was this building that was the scene of St Dunstan 's temptation and his encounter with the Evil One, which has passed into a coarse and melo- dramatic legend. Dunstan became Abbot a.d. 940, and was the means of introducing the Benedictine Order of monks into England. Xing Edwy afterwards expelled and banished him, and it is recorded that a sound like " the wheezy voice of a gleesome hag " was heard as the soldiers were driving him out of the church ; and the legend adds that this noise was at once unmistakably recognised by all persons as the exulting voice of the devil ! About one hundred and fifty years later Herlewin pulled down the church and began a much larger and more ornate building ; but a few years afterwards the whole was burnt and the precious relics perished. The work of rebuilding was immediately undertaken 145 10 :^mssm^- ■ r-f^j-f -y* ._rfe 'f\ *:.i- -^-i I ' f ' 1 Wessex by King Henry II., and when the first part was com- pleted, on the site of the little wattled church of the first missionaries, it was dedicated to St Mary. This chapel has become erroneously known as St Joseph's Chapel by a curious tradition which arose from the fact that the monks were very anxious to identify the abbey with one or other of the famous characters of the New Testament — a desire which was not a little owing to the fact that such identification with St Joseph led to a large number of devotees and pilgrims visiting the spot. The great church begun by Henry II. proceeded but slowly, owing to the warlike nature of his im- mediate successor and the fact that the monks were speedily at their wits' end for want of money. It was then they by a lucky inspiration remembered that the body of Dunstan, who had ultimately become Arch- bishop of Canterbury and had been canonised, which had been removed from Canterbury, was supposed to be buried somewhere amidst the ruins of the destroyed church. His body was promptly sought for, and naturally it, or something else, was discovered ; and in spite of the protest of the Canterbury monks, who claimed to possess the Archbishop's remains, the relics immediat -ly 'oegan to work miracles and cures, and thus were the means of drawing to Glastonbury a rich flow of offerings made by pilgrims and devotees. Thus it was that the church, of which nowadays only a few magnificent fragments remain, was completed and was duly dedicated in a.d. 1303. 146 ^^Jt^^'m^^m Abbot Whiting Glastonbury luxamc a mitred abbey, and thus its abbot ranked as the premier one m England till the year i 154, when precedence was given to the Abbot of St Albans. Under its abbots of a later period, during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, Glastonbury did a considerable amount of educational work, as it is recorded that " many sons of noblemen and gentlemen were sent to Glastonbury for virtuous education, and returned thence excellently accomplished." At the time of the Reformation the abbey was ruled over by Abbot Whiting, whose execution was one of the worst of a number of similar judicial crimes which took place during the stormy period of the Reformation. The Abbot was arrested at his manor hcuse of Sharpham, and conveyed to London and confined in the Tower ; but after a short imprisonment he was sent back into Somersetshire, and was, as Froude says, " already condemned at a tribunal where Cromwell i>at as prosecutor, jury, and judge." His trial took place on November 14, 1539, in the Bishops' Great Hall at Wells. He was accused of robbing the Church — that is to say, of concealing its sacred vessels and other treasures from the legalised robbers who were just then raiding the monasteries in the West under the direction of Henry VIII. 's minister Cromwell. Again to quote Kroude, his crime was " that he was more faithful to the Church than the State, and was guilty of regarding the old ways as better than the new." After a short trial Abbot Whiting was sentenced to death, and was drawn 147 {ErvL ^^S2^ fii ) i Wessex on a hurdle, accompanied by two of his monks, to the top of Torre Hill, and there put to death. According to the barbarous custom of the age after execution for high treason, his head was fixed over his abbey gate, and the four quarters of his body were sent to Wells, Bath, Ilchester, and Rridgewater, that the sight of them might strike terror into the hearts of all who might be bold enough to question the King's right to do as he listed in his own dominions. In the following reign the manor of Glastonbury, including the site of the church and abbey, was given by the King to the Duke of Somerset, and the buildings were abandoned and allowed to fall into gradual decay. In the reign of Mary an attempt was made to restore the dismantled abbey, but the death of the Queen prevented the work being carried out. The place now fell rapidly into disrepair and ruin, and, as happened in so many other cases, the remains of the magnificent abbey got to be regarded as a kind of stone quarry for the neighbourhood, with the result that a large portion was removed piecemeal by various people for use as material for building houses. During the two years of the last decade of the eighteenth century the ground surrounding the abbey was cleared, levelled, and converted into pasturage ; and unhappily many of the beautiful corbels, pinnacles, and carved fragments of the arches were broken up to be used for making a new road over the marshes. Of the many interesting relics which yet remain of this vast church and its out-buildings, the best preserved 148 The Abbey Ruins and most interesting of all is the small chapel which was dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, but which is commonly known as St Joseph's Chapel. This little building is one of the most interesting in the ecclesiastical history of the country : erected in i 184, it w.:s made to represent in stone the original wattled structure built by St Joseph and the first missionaries. It is beautifully decorated in a rather florid style, and it remains as unique in character as it is valuable as representing the preservation of a most interesting idea and tradition. The only abbey building within the actual monastery walls still standing is the magnificent abbot's kitchen, now detached from the chief body of ruins, and affording a curious and ingenious example of the domestic architecture of the time. It is traditionally supposed to have been built by the unfortunate Abbot Whiting, and the fact of it being entirely of stone is said to have arisen from the circum- stance that Whiting, after a dispute with the King, who had threatened to burn his kitchen, replied that " he would build such a one that all the wood in the forest should not suffice to carry out his monarch's threat." The tradition goes that the King's threat was intended as a reproach for the luxurious living of the Abbot and his monks. Another interesting relic of this great Abbey of Glastonbury still happily survives in the Abbot's Barn, which is probably the finest and most richly ornamented of the monastic granaries in the west of England. It 149 Hi'tkt I I ) |i Wcssex is crucform in shape, the transepts forming the entrances, and nearly a hunclred feet in length, and ,t has a wonderful collar-beam roof. The four gables have triangular windows with rich traceries and symbols representing the four l-'.vangelists. In the town of Glastonbury itself are several n.terest- in.' and ancient buildings, besides a great many frag- ments well worth the attention of the antiquarian and student of architecture. Of M surviving bu.ldmgs of I domestic character in the town, none is of greater attractiveness than the old George Inn, which was in ancient davs a pilgrims' hostelry. Huilt in the reign of 1-dward IV. bv Abbot Selwood, it presents, according to several well-known authorities, the best piece of domestic architecture in the town. The front is a magniricent masr of panelling pierced here and there for windows, and the middle of the building is occupied by a four-centred gateway with a bay window on the left to the whole height of the house. Above th^ gate are the arms of the abbey and of Edward IV supported by the bull of Clare and the white lion of Mortimer. The interior contains much interesting work. , , The tribunal built by Abbot Beere, who also was the builder of St Benedict's Church, as the abbey court-house, still survives, though now used as offices It possesses a principal room with a wide window ot eight lights and a large oriel window above. The other and principal church in Glastonbury is that of St John the Baptist, a well-restored fifteenth- 150 -r''''^'-^:.;j^,:y-r-li:j^^p^-^\Y--,'-./ii_; efsiTfT^i V jjwc^ ■- -im W' i I.I.A^IONHI HY slKKI'IK KROM IHK AHHK^ i.ARDKNS ' I ■ < ... . I' Ax I m it' The Glastonbury Thorn century building, which possesses a wonderfully fine tower rising to a height of 14O feet, in three storeys, richly adorned with canopied niches and crowned with an open-work parapet and eight slender pinnacles. This tower is considered by many archi- tectural authorities the third finest in Somerset- shire, a county which is remarkably rich both in churches and in especially beautiful towers. The church itself is a fine example of the Perpendicular period. Few legends of Wessex are prettier or more interest- ing than that of the famous Glastonbury Thorn, which was considered to be one of the chief marvels of the H<,ly Site until the reign of Queen Elizabeth, when one* of its two enormous trunks was cut down by a Puritan who, the story goes, was only prevented from also destroying the other by one of the blows of his axe falling on his own leg, while a chip of the thorn flying upwards destroyed the sight of one of his eyes. The remaining portion of the tree, which had been so miraculously preserved, survived until the great Civil War, when one of Cromwell's Ironsides, careless of the fate which had befallen the previous Puritan who had sought to destroy the famous thorn, successfully felled It. The spot where it once flourished is now marked by a stone in which are carved the letters I.A.A.D. XXXI., which commemorates both St Joseph and the date of his supposed visit. The origin of the thorn at Wirral — nowadays known as Weary-all Hill — is stated to have been as 15' iH ' U ii I i Wessex follows St Joseph and his companions, all weary with their long pilgrimage, on approaching Glastonbury first rested on th>s spot, and St Joseph, betore throwmg himself down on the ground to rest, stuck h.s hawthorn staff in the soft ground. A miracle was at once wrought, for the staff struck root and shot forth branches as the party of missionaries rested. 1 h.s miraculous thorn, which only put forth leaves and blossoms at Christmas, is, according to botanists, a distinct variety of t.. common hawthorn wh-ch blossoms twice a year ; the winter flowers, which are about the size of a sixpence, appear at Christnias, or sooner if the weather be severe. Although the old tree was destroyed, there are several of the same variety, and supposed to be possessed of equal merit, m the neighbourhood, and they were probably propagated from portions of the original tree. A curious circumstance in connection with the Glastonbury Thorn is the fact that, when the change of style was made in the calendar in 1752, many people anxiously awaited to see whether the famous thorn would alter its date of blossoming. But, much to the delight of those who believevi so implicitly in the marvels of the tree, the thorn came into blossom not on the new Christmas Day, but on January 5, which was the old one. Glastonbury m the spring is a beautiful spot, famous for its blossoming orchards and many lovely flower . The country round about is of the most picturesque character, and in the six or seven miles separating 152 •^^..-ms^fym ■& The Founding of Wells Glastonbury from Wells are many beauty-spots typical of west-country scenery. The cathedral city of Wells, which lies in a basin at the foot of the beautiful Mendips, whose craggy lime- stone summits almost encircle it, is interer.ting from many points of view. It not only presents one of the most interesting examples of a strictly ecclesiastical city in England, but it also possesses a cathedral and other dependent buildings in a very unusual state of pre- servation ind perfection. Weil-i , wes all its interest and importance nowadays to the religious foundations of which, since the time of King Ina, the West Saxon, it has been the centre. Owing its existence to its religious foundations, it has remained since those ancient times almost undisturbed by the usual vicissitudes of civil or other wars. The town itself never played any important part in the many military struggles which from early times have taken place in Wessex. No citadel or castle overshadowed its ecclesiastical buildings, nor has it at any time been protected, as were most other towns in the Middle Ages, by walls or fortifications. Nor at any period of its existence has it enjoyed any considerable commercial importance ; although at one time, some centuries ago, weaving was one of the staple trades, and an unsuccess- ful attempt was made to establish silk-mills. The only events of historical importance connected with the town which are not of a purely ecclesiastical character are the entry into W^ells of Henry VII. in 1 497, when he marched to the West to suppress the •53 i( ! i i J i .1 .! f J ■ 1 . ^r CI it I ii t l fi Wessex Perkin Warbeck rebellion ; and the occupation of the city, two hundred years later, by the Duke of Monmouth and his forces, when retreating from Philips Norton. Macaulay gives a brief pen-picture of the riot and turmoil with which the Duke's un- trained soldiery destroyed the city's ancient peace. He writes : " They tore the lead from the roof of the cathedral to make bullets, and wantonly defaced the ornaments of the building. Grey (Lord) with difficulty preserved the altar from some of the ruffians, who wished to carouse round it, by taking his stand before it with his sword drawn. After the disastrous defeat of the Duke's forces at Sedgemoor many of the rebels were confined at Wells, and were ministered to by the saintly Bishop Ken." In Wells the interest seems to centre in the cathedral, with its depending buildings, the palace, the deanery, and the vicar's close, whether one be merely a visitor holiday-making in Wessex or a student of architecture or archeology. The town has been spoken of as one of the most beautiful in the world, and certainly, if one is interested in antiquity, and is in sympathy with the atmosphere which seems insensibly to cling to and surround ancient buildings which have survived the ages almost untouched by the fingers of time, the description does not seem exaggerated. The finest view of the cathedral is probably that from the north-west corner of the Cathedral Green, from which one is able to appreciate the beauty of the west front and the imposing grandeur of the two 154 [•! : I ':7:A> jgr:^' ^'-■■: r'i I ,1 I nil MAKKKI-rl.Al Y. » h.l.l,> M m |i ■)J k^ .T-. h> I I i I !«' ■ : I Wells at the Conquest towers, which are seen across the well-kept lawn bordered with its trees ami environed by its deanery on the north and the beautiful chapter-house and chain gate on the east. Although the close is inferior to that of several other cathedrals, it is one of singular charm and beauty, and about its precincts is that peace- ful tranquillity into which any discordant sounds of the town itself seldom seem to intrude. The founder of the first ecclesiastical college of secular canons was King Ina, in 704, and this was endowed by succeeding kings of VVessex with additional privi- leges, until the religious foundation here established became so important that it was selected by Edward the Elder as the seat of a bishopric. The first bishop was Athelm, formerly Abbot of Glastonbury and after- wards Archbishop of Canterbury in 914. The see of Wells at first underwent some consider- able vicissitudes of fortune, and is said to have been seizeti by Harold during Edward the Confessor's life- time, after he had expelled the canons. At the Conquest, Giso, the fifteenth Bishop, recovered possession of the lands and the see, reinstalled the canons who had been expelled by Harold, and also erected suitable accommodation for them.. His immediate successor, John de Villula, transferred the see to Bath, which he purchased of Henry I. for five hundred pounds of silver, with the abbey, which he entirely rebuilt. This transference was caused by i. - troublous nature of the times and the desire that John de Villula had for safety within town walls, 155 imw i 1 !l^ ■y% I Wessex which, existing at Bath, were, as wc have before remarked, never existent at Wells. Soon, however, liiscora and jealousy seem to have risen between the men of Bath and Wells, and in the time of Bishop Robert (11^5-11^)')) it was determined that the Bishop should in future be elected by the monks of Bath and the canons of Wells jointly, and that the see in future should be known us that of Bath and Wells. A little later, in the time of Bishop Savaric, another quarrel arose with the monks of Glastonbury, who resented that their abbey should be annexed to the see which was one of the stipulatiotiS made when Savaric was made bishop by Richard Coeur de Lion, in return for kindness shown to him whilst in captivity. The Glastonbury monks appealed to Rome during the episcopate of Bishop Joceline, Savaric's successor, and obtained their release from the undesired union with the see, on condition that they gave up to the bishopric four of the best manors attached to Glaston- bury, loceline was one of the most active and munificent bishops that Wells ever had ; and he, after pulling down the Saxon cathedral, which had been allowed to fall into decay, and had been repaired and partly rebuilt by Bishop Robert, erected a much more magnificent church, a very great part of which remains at the present day. Of this Bishop, whose long episcopate of thirty-seven years was remarkable, Fuller says : " God to square his great undertakings giving him a long lif; to his large heart." 156 Wells Cathedral The cathedral is notable for its very rich work of the Marly Fnglish period, distinguished by local peculiarities, especially in the nave and transepts, which liitfcrei'itiate it from any other buiKling ni like date, it also contains in the choir of the Lady Chapel and chapter-house some excellent work of the Early Decorated period. The Early English west front, with its sculptures, s generally admitted to be t^uite unrivalled, antl has been compared with those of Kheims and Chartres ; and, with its varied outlines and slender detached shafts stretching upward tier upon tier, is one of greater interest and impressiveness than that of any other catheilral in England. The number of figures in the exquisite niches of the west front is ujnvards of six hundred, of which about half are either life-size or colossal ; and almost without exception they are ot high artistic excellence. Of the larger figures, twenty-one ire crowned kings, and eight crowned queens. Also knights, armed knights, princes or nobles, and mitred ecclesiastics. The latter are placeii to the south of the central door, and the cjueens and laymen to the north. Although many of these figures are in a wonderful state of preservation, it is now impossible to satis- factorily identify any ; and of only one, that of Edward the Martyr, can the personality be guessed at with any degree of certainty. This west front, which is contemporary with those of Notre Dame in Paris and Amiens Cathedral, is tonsidered by many to be finer than either, and its '57 \ a m %TfmWr^ T ^" i'^y Wessex width is cnnsiacnihly ^nMtcr. The tact that it is built of the rinc stone tou.ul in the imnieaiate neiyhliour- hooa of Wells, which is easily worked and hardens on exposure to the air, will in some measure account, not only for the great nuniUer of the statues and the beautiful character of the carviny generally, but also for its excellent state of preservation. To deal with the beauties of Wells Cathedral in detail would occupy a considerable-si/ed volume of itself. It is only possible here to say that the building is not only wtHiderfully impressive as a whole, but is marvellously complete in every and the smallest particular, and to generalise regarding some of its most striking or notable features. Within the beautiful fane, exquisite with elaborate carving and fine stained glass, rest many who have in the past played important parts in the ecclesiastical history of Wessex and the country at large. Wells is rich in ecclesiastical monum'-U'^ which fortunately have been much better preserved tnan in most other churches in the land. Here lie buried a succession of abbots and bishops, from the eleventh century down almost to the present time, sleeping m the church whvise magnificence they loved, and many of them did much to enhance, which nowadays is happily preserved as a lesson in all that is best of the architecture of the periods in which its various parts were constructed. Scarcely less interesting than the cathedral itself arc some of the ecclesiastical buildings attached to it. The 158 The Bishop's Palate inshcip's palace, siirrouiuicd liy a nr it tcil from St Atuircw's, or what is knov n as the " Bottomless Well," aiul by walls atui bastions strong enough to sustain a long siege in ineiii:eval times. These latter were the work of Bishop Ualph of Shrewsbury in the first half of the fourteenth century, the palace having been buih a hundred years t-arlier liy Bishop Jocelinc. Originally it was m the torni of a quadrangle, the present building forming the eastern siilc, whilst the kitchen and offices, which have been almost entirely rebuilt, were on the north side ; with a chapel on the south, which was rebuilt at the end of the thirteenth century ; and on the west side a garden wall and the gate-house, of which there are now no remains. The present gate-house is plainer fourteenth-century work, and was built by Bishop Ralph of Shrewsbury, who cmbastioned the palace. According to tradition, the latter was fortified, although the town never was so, as a precaution against the monks of Bath, who were said to have sworn to kill the Bishop. The ruins of the great hall and the restored chapel arc very interesting, as is also the habitable part of the palace, which fortunately remains to a great extent as originally built, though in the course of time many minor alterations have been made, including the upper storey with the gabled dormers added to the front by Bishop Bagot in 1840. Within the palace, among many interesting things, is the beautiful Jacobean staircase leading to the upper floor, on which the principl apartments have always 159 f |.f! • I Wessex been situated. The gallery is a fine room nearly a hundred feet long, and lighted by the original Pearly Knglish windows of two three-foiled lights ; in this hand- some room are the portraits of the bishops, including C:irdinal Wolsey, down to the last occupant of the see. The chapel, which is comparatively small, is on the side formerly occupietl by the south wing of Joceline's building, and is a beautiful example of Decorated work erected by Bishop Burnell towards the end of the thirteenth century. There is an interesting and low side window in the south wall towards the west end, which tradition asserts was placed there so that lepers or persons suffering from infectious disorders should in a measure be able to take part in the service. The great hall, which is placed at the south-west angle of the chapel, was also the work of Bishop Burnell. It was dismantled in 1552 by Sir John Gates, who, after the execution of the Duke of Somerset, purchased the palace for the sake of the materials. It may be some consolation to the anti.^uary to know that the vandal Gates was beheaded a year later for plotting to place I^idy Jane Grey on the throne. It was in this beautiful hall that the mock trial of Whiting, the last Abbot of Glastonbury, already referred to, had taken place some thirteen years earlier. The ruin of this portion of the palace was completed after the Civil War by one Dr Cornelius Burgess, to whom the building, deanery, a. id chapter-house, together with much other Church property in the town, had been sold for a nominal price by the Parliament. 160 *'i r/» ^1 ' — IIIK l'AI,A( ^. U KM.' llf^'MffTJ"^' The Deanery I-'rom these ruins it is pleasant to turn to the sniithcrn side of the palace enclosure, where lies an exquisite garden rich with tiowers, whose bright and varied colours present at all seasons save winter such a pleasing contrast to the grey ruins of the ancient hall ;iiKi the old-time walls of the houses. 1-ew more exquisite scenes ^re to be found in the whole of Wcssex than this lovely garden, with its terrace walk along the embattled wall, and its beautiful \:cws of the cathedral and the hills which surround the city. Here is just such a spot as in medieval d.ivs drew to it much that was best, most artistic, and most learned from the greater world without. Across the Cathedral Green lies the deanery, prominent with its octagonal turrets anti embattled parapet, the work of Dean Gunthorne, who filled the offices of chaplain to Edward IV., Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal, and several other high positions, from 147; to 1498. This fine building, although, it is true, a good deal spoiled by modern windows and other .ilterations, is still a wonderfully well-preserved and .ilmost perfect example of the tifteenth-century noble- man's house. The north or garden front is very beautiful and picturesque, and bears the badges of both Eldward IV. and Dean Gunthorne on the bay windows and oriels, the former badge a rose upon a sun, and the latter a gun. There are many features in this building well worthy of attention, but perhaps the most notable is the hall, which forms so good an example of the transition from 161 II h t^ > Wessex the mcdix-val hall to the modern ciiiiing-room. At the lower einl is a remarkable arch of wide span, above which is a small room probably in oKlen times set aside for the use of musicians ; and beneath the arch is the lavatory for washing the hands before dinner. It was at the deanery that Henry VII was enter- tained on the last day of September 1+99, whilst on his march into the west of England against Perkin Warbeck. To the eastward of the deanery stands the arch- deaconry, a modernised house of about the end of the thirteenth century. The hall is a fine one, and retains a beautiful open timbered roof of the early part of the fifteenth century, which is probably the work of Bishop Bulvvith. It was in this building that Polydore Vergil, who was the tool and confidant of Wolsey, is said to have written his history. In the middle of the sixteenth century he went to reside abroad, after having held the aichdeaconry for a period of more than forty years ; it was then that he alienated the house, which from that time has continued severed from the church. The vicars' close on the north-eastern side of the cathedral is a long, narrow court of great picturesque- ness, possessing a chapel and library at the northern end, and an entrance gate with a common hall above it at the south end, with twenty-one houses ranged along the two sides. The houses, although they have been modernised, are probably substantially the work of Bishop Ralph of Shrewsbury, erected in the last years of the first half of the fourteenth century. On the 162 , I /;/,•■ r.ii'' /'■'••.■ ■ rtiij.Mv .; V'*., Amt)if.oii- .lo'lgini;-')! H.ill>.)roui;li| r' .- I il Ri;?f^ff^'* i' ii The Vicars' Close, Wt-lls nantclpiccf of the hall, over the gateway, is carved an inscription asking for the prayers of the faithful for Richard Fomeroy, who built the eastern end. This Jose was, in fact, a college, each mem her of which had .1 small house of two rooms one over the other, with .1 staircase and small chamber at the back, instead of rooms on a common staircase. One of those dwellings was restored to its original state by J- H. Parker of Oxford, who also completely repaireil and tlecorated one of the houses of" the two principal canons, situated OM the north-western end of the wall, which had formerly been used as a brew-house, and had been allowed to fall into almost complete dilapidation. Both of these houses are not only interesting to the '^tudent, but must be so to all who would in any way realise the life and the architecture of medix.'val times. Unfortunately, most of the canons' houses have been cither rebuilt or very much spoiled by modern alter- ations. But one or two still retain some of their tiftcenth-century work and features. The singing-school, which is situated over part of the west wall of the cloisters and joins the corner of the cathedral, was probably built by Bishop Ralph ic Salopia, and altered by Bishop Harewell. It is un- fortunate that it has been greatly spoiled by alterations and additions. In the town itself are a number of interesting houses which still bear distinct traces of medixval character, though greatly modernised. Unfortunately, the present town nail, which took the place n 1779 of the quaint 163 I ■ . f r Ifff^ u 1l hi Wcssex liuil.iuii,' which st()(ui on pillars in the centre of the square, an J was erected in the nuddle of" the sixteenth century liy Bishop Knii,'ht an.l Dean Woohnan, is ugly ami eiuirc-iy out of keepin- with its surroundings. It remains tor some muniticent native of \V. lis to erect .1 l)uiKiinu in harmony with the mc-aix-val atmosphere of the market place, ind do away with one which is onlv an eyesore. Of the non-ecclesiastical buildings, few have greater interest than the old Crown Inn on the south side ot the market-place. I'he portion overlooking the yard is very interesting and quaint ; and it was from the window of this inn th.it the famous William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, once preached. St Cuthbert's Church is a singularly beautiful building, originally in the lurly Knglish style. It was apparently erected about 1240, and w.is of cruciform type, with a central tower, which is recorded as having fallen about the middle of the sixteenth century. The original building was transformed after the erection of the west tower during the Perpendicular period. The church as it now stands possesses a very beautiful tower, nave, and aisle«, with chantry chapel on both sides, transeptal chapels, north and south porches, each with parvis over it, a chancel with aisles and the original sacristy to the north. The tower is famous throughout the west country as second only in beauty to that of Wrington. A chantry was founded by Thomas Tanner of Wells In the second year of the fifteenth century ; against the 164 Bishop Riibwith's Almshouse lastcTM wall was an altar, now very much defacfd, with rcTCiios, crectni in I470. During thf Kcformatum the vtatucs wtTC torn down or built u[> m the nicht's, and tht whole work hidden uniler a coat of plaster, in which •state the rercdos remained until it was again brought to light in 1848. It was at the same time that the reretlos of St Mary's Chapel was tiiscovered, which is a very fine one, and the whole work of extreme beauty and lielicacv. A fresco of our Lord in the act of benediction was also uncovered about the same time. The church has been well restored, and forms one of the great attractions of Wells. Quite close to St Cuthbert's is Bishop Bubwith's Almshouse, instituted after the Bishop's lieath in 14:4. Unfortunately, ill-conceived alterations were made in the middle of the last century, which did much to destroy the origin;il medi;eval plan. This Kuisisted of a large hall with cells on each side for the almsmen, left open to the timbereti roof, and a chapel at the eastern enti open to the hall, so that the inmates might join in the daily services without leaving their ceils. Although so unwisely restored, the .Almshouse is of great interest. In this city of the West it is more possible than perhaps in any other in Kngland to realise the medix'val atmosphere which once pervaded it, and to uniierstand something of the life and architecture of those times. A great writer has said : " In Wells one finds not only exquisite ecclesiastical architecture unusually well preserved, but also a strange survival in the quietude .65 I il m !■'■ ' 1 ■ 1 ■ H- , I'll Wessex of the lite of the city of those days which are passed never to come again. ... In Wells there is also much domestic architecture which still preserves a good deal of its medixval character, forming an interesting object- lesson not only for the student, but to any to whom the past is of interest and a matter for reverence." i i 166 CHAPTER VII THE CAPITAL OF SOL'TH WESSEX, ITS HISTORY AND ROMANCE Of all Wessex towns which, important in early ages, have still retained the proud position to which history has entitled them, none is more interesting than Dorchester, which may truly be called the capital of Wessex. Set almost in the heart of Dorset itself, and surrounded by fertile meadows to the north and west and east, and by gradually rising uplands which slope to the coast on its southern side, it is both picturesquely and well situated. And it is probably not a little owing to the fact that through it passes one of the old Roman roads, which was historically renowned in the days of antiquity, that the town has preserved much of its interest and importance to the present time. Dorchester of to-day is a thriving country town, rather sleepy except on market days, when it takes on in air of bustle and becomes full of types of Wessex life and character. Once the home of Roman nobles and the camp of Roman soldiery, it is now chiefly of interest on account of its old traditions, some few ancient buildings, and its position as the county town 167 1 •■ f' Wessex in a wide and prosperous sheep-hreeding and dairy country. Prettily situated on a hiM sloping on the north side to the valley of the picturesque I^rorne, and stretching out on the south and west sides to the open country, which is intersected by ancient roads still used as highways, it has much of moment in its past, and into The hmer are woven strands of much complex history of strangely different ages. Known alike to Saxons, Romans, and Danes ; occupied in turn by all these ; the scene of fierce battles and of more than one siege -it remains rich in memories of the past, and survives a good example of the Wessex town of to-day. Almost on all sides are relics of the times when Durnovaria, as it was called by the Romans formed a centre from which the civilising influence of the con- querors radiated. Beneath its streets are pavements along which the legions marched in triumph, or when bent on further conquest of the surrounding country, or bound for the amphitheatre hard by, in which the gladiatorial combats organised for the amusement and distraction of the conquerors and conquered alike were to be held. . _ ,. Each old house as it is pulled down perchance ma) disclose the foundations and pavements of other houses trodden by the feet of those world-conquerors of more than fifteen hundred years ago; whilst in the helds which surround the town and stretch towards the coast on the one side and the valley of the Frome on the other are consta. tly found treasures of pottery and ornaments, linking the Dorchester of to-day with that 1 68 n \ m FORDINt.TON, 1)<)KTKK Hack uf Mivi, l..,nr ir, / '"■ .l/--v."- ■■/ ' ''-r,-rt-n/i;f ' \ >> % ^^.t p it I ■ ' ■.^-- w 1 r '^•» Dorchester of the Past wonderful era of Durnovaria of the past. Not only are treasures unearthed which have outlasted their aforetime users and owners, but also the eloquent remains of patrician md soldier, Roman dame and Romano-British maiden — bones which once were en- shrouded by the flesh of Rome's mightiest and fairest. And in the streets and gardens of this ancient town the present-day inhabitants doubtless walk upon the resting-places of many who in those dark ages had a part in the making of VVessex history. The position of Durnovaria in itself was one of great importance ; from it ran the Via iceniana or Icening or Icknield Street, and this and the Fosse Way in the neighbourhood brought many through it in the Roman times. Anciently encompassed by a high and stout wall of stone, some fragmentary remains of which are still to be found in the west, south, and east quarters of the town, it has also exterior ramparts which are still visible on the same sides. The old town was, of course, on a lower level, and hence it is that even nowadays dis- coveries of fibulae and other ornaments are frequently made. Of Dorchester during the age of the ancient Britons, although there seems little doubt that a settlement existed here, we have scarcely any record save the name only ; but in Roman times it had undoubtedly risen to a place of considerable importance. Ptolemy refers to it as the chief town of the Durotriges, and in the writings of Antoninus and Richard of Cirencester a 169 Ml 11 ' it I ■^C*2 \\ hi Wesscx distinct mention of it hcinij ;i Roman station is recorded. The history of Dorchester in olden times is still to he traced in some of the names of the streets and portions of the town — Durn or Durngate Street, the Icen Way, Friary Lane, Shire Hall I>ane, Bullstake, and Bowling Alley Walk, amongst others. In the Saxo' age, after the Romans had departed, leaving behind them but a few colonists attached to the town and district either by domestic or by com- mercial ties, it was a place of considerable importance. And although the Saxon annals do not contain much mention of it, under King Athelstan it must have reached a high position amongst Wessex towns, by reason of the fact that it was given two mints — a privilege granted as a rule only to cities and walled towns of size and note. Coins of Ethelred II., of the great Canute, and of Edward the Confessor, all bearing the mark of this mint, still exist. During the heroic, but until Alfred's day seldom successful, struggles of the Saxons against the Danish invaders the town suffered much ; and it is recorded that Sweyn, king of Denmark, having landed in Cornwall A.u. 1003, proceeded eastward to ravage the country lying along Icening Street, and, reaching Dorchester, took and burnt it, throwing down the walls, which had offered so stout a resistance, in revenge for the massacre of the Danes perpetrated by King Ethelred in the previous year. Although Dorchester was soon rebuilt, and remained 170 I '•■I } ,^HH ' 1 IHK KKOMK AIIOVK IK)KrH Ksl KK (( A^l tRBKllKiK) Vlil u ' I il ' ' M I 'I I I u •if ''if^ Elizabethan Dorchester the- cipital of the county .iihl also .i pl.uc ot tonsiacr- .ihlf importance in the south-west ot Kn^laiul, its history is without incident ot" more than local imixirt ance tor many years after the visit ot the tierce Danish leader, and its annals from that time onw irvl until the reii^n of Kli/aheth are peaceful rather than stirring. However, during a period from 1201 to 1:14 King John paid many visits to the town for the purpose of hunting in the neighbourhood. The perioil of the dissolution of the monasteries, several famous foundations being within a short day's journey of the town, must have been a troublous time in the district, and Dorchester, where a Franciscan priory had been founded in 1364, doubtless saw and knew something of the visits of Henry Vlll.'s troopers, and even possibly of Thomas Cromwell himself, the King's right-hand man in the work of spoliation, when they were engaged in the suppression of the neigh- bouring monastic foundations of Hindon, I-ord, Sherborne, and others in the county. In the opening years of Queen Kli/.abeth's reign Dorchester was the scene of several martyrdoms, brought about by the change of religion and the several penal statutes which had been enacted against the Roman Catholics. The first to suffer was one Thomas Pilchard, a priest of Sussex, who was hanged, drawn, and quartered at Dorchester in the year 1587. A few years after, William Pikes, a layman, was apprehended and condemned for high treason in being reconciled to the Church of Rome, and denying Elizabeth's 171 ill ^C-' 1/ ! f I Wessex spiritual supremacy. And still later a record is found ni the execution of ff)ur persons on the same dav, luly 4, 1594 — John Cornelius, alias Mohun, Thomas Bosgrave, Terence Carey, and Patrick Salmon, servants in the house of the widow of Sir John Arundel. The priest Cornelius appears to have been taken whilst staying at Chideock House, near Bnd- port, then inhabited by Sir John Arundel's widow. An interesting side-light is thown upon these execu- tions by the fact that some time after the event the townsmen of Dorchester requested the sheriff to have the head of Cornelius removed from the gallows, to which it had been nailed, stating that they had suffered great loss in the matter of harvests by the tempests which had arisen, as had happened at other times on like occasions. The very next year the town was visited by the plague, in consequence, it was alleged by the Catholics, of the wrath of Heaven at the execution of Cornelius and his co-religionists. On Friday, August 6, 16 13, a great fire devastated the town, and very few of the houses in the old portion escaped, and both the churches of Holy Trinity and All Saints were destroyed. The loss was very heav)', and most people were not only rendered homeless, but ruined. It is recorded that a collection was made for the sufferers all over the country, and that " one, Matthew Chubb, did advance and lay out one thousand pounds to those who had sustained loss, which was to be repaid by the King th^ next subsidy following." 172 i ^f **^: P w AIHKI.HAMI'ION AI>I.K IN I'IDDI.KIOWN ( HlRCIl. \KAK 1K1K< IIK^I I- K I 1:1 H^U If' il ' .,«:-'7«^ ^:^ n li :i Ir^^^i^ (-■■>■ \\ \ ! ' I The Burning of Dorchester Barely ten years passed ere Dorchester was again devastated by tire, and many of the houses were once more destroyed. A curious memorandum made at the time of these two great tires throws a vivid side- light on the attitude with which many men regarded these visitations. We are told that " before the great tire of 1613 little or no money was given to any charit jses for a long season. Many lay fro/en in these dregs until it pleased Ciod to waken them in this fiery trial iti burning of their stubble and dross ; but when they saw that by this sudden blast such great buildings turned into heaps of stones, into dust and ashes, even in a moment ; and being thus season- ably admonished to set our hearts upon the true treasure that shall not perish, and thereby open unto us the fading quality of all these things how little they profit us in time of need ; and withal beholding the great miseries of many families they were in an instant harbourless ; many men's bowels began to yearn in compassion towards them, studying how to do some good work for the relief of the poor, as also to sanctify- ing the remainder of their estate to the Lord." The result of which heart-searching and seeing the hand of God in these fiery afflictions was the setting up of the hospital or workhouse, together with the house of correction, and, rather quaintly, a brew- house on the same plot of land, the profit arising from which it was decided to devote to the maintenance of the hospital. The breaking of the storm of the Great Rebellion »73 '.r' Wessex saw the town, according to Lord Clarendon, one of the most strongly disaffcctcil places to the King's cause in the whole ot Kngland. And he further goes on to state that it was a considerable place and the scat of a great malignity. Although the town was not a place strong by nature, nor capable of being made so, the defect was supplied by the spirit and the obstinacy of the inhabitants, and it was early fortified against the King by some of the leaiiers of the Parliamentary faction. A minute of the corporation shows that in January 1642 "it is agreed that the townsmen of this borough doe raise or contynue a convenient number of souldhiers armed for the defence of this towne to be in weeklie paie, and the number is agreed to bee 160 at least besides officers." The minutes of the corporation of this time contain manv other interesting items showing not only the temper of the townsfolk, but also the nature of the preparations they made to resist attack by the Royalist forces. On the approach of the Earl of Caernarvon in the following year, after his successful attack upon Bristol, and that of Prince Maurice, it was decided by the towns- folk to be impossible to defend the place, and they sent commissioners to treat with the Earl. On obtaining the terms that they should not be plundered nor suffer any ill for what they had done, they delivered up the place, with all their arms and ammunition and ordnance. It would appear that the town lay at the mercy of both parties during the ensuing weeks, and, 174 '=!*:-' _ ^ fks-sm^mm ^^4 r'.ft«^» ' :-^ I m ^ IHK Mll.l. AM. (HIIK 11 AT AKKl-UI.I.I.K, NKAR IH.K.HKMKH Th. ■' K.i-l KiiJ.m ( hn.J. ■ «l.ei.- V.-ohriKlil ..n.l Kustaeia «.^r.- n,arri«l ii. /'*, Kilurn .■/ Iff .\ llr.e \ I i^ ^^ j'. i' ) i i 'ni it Ihc '* Bloody" Assize after being the centre and pivot of some skirmishing, on July 15 of the following yc-ar the J'.arl of Ksscx took possession of the town for the Parliament, after an unsuccessful attempt to tlo this on the part of Lord Inthiquin, who had cf)me with a party of 240 horse and foot from Wareham for th.it purp' ■•. Cromwell himseit was at Dorchi. er in Marc 1 i'>45 with a large force, amounting to sume fou^ thousand in all, and a battle took place outside the town between some of the Parliament;. / horse and 'he troof^s of deneral Goring, who, t.;ki g Cromwell's men in the rear as well as in the front, compelled them to retire from the river in'^o the town. From this time on\.ard, Dorchester, in the reigns of I'.li/abeth, Charles I., md James 1. noted far and wide for its cloth manufacture, went on its quiet, undisturbed way, until the unfortunate attempt of the Duke of Monmouth involved the townsfolk and persons from round about in the atrocious travesties of justice enacted by the infamous Judge Jeffreys throughout the length and breadth of Wessex. On Thursday, September 3, 1685, before Judge Jeffreys and four other judges, the "Bloody Assize" was opened. More than three hundred persons were down for trial, and a sinister meaning was held to exist by many in the order made by Jeffreys for the Court to he hung with scarlet cloth. The unfortunate pjrsons, n any of them guiltless of anything more treasonable than mere sympathy with the cause of Monmouth, were gathered from far and near, and thrown into 175 '^ • lb fi Wcssex Dorchester (iaol — some from as far north-cast as Salisbury, ami others from as far east as Winchester. On the (lay after his arrival for the assi/e, Jeffreys, whose lodging is still pointed out in High West Street, nearly opposite the County Museum— from the win- dows of which in those liays it was possible to see the gaol and even watch executions — attended church when a sermon was preached, at which, as it inculcated :nercy, the Chief Justice was seen to laugh. On the following liay, thirty persons, who " had put themselves on their country," after being threatened and brow- beaten by the infamous judge, were, with one exception, found guilty and condemned to death, and were exe- cuted two days later. Then, to shorten the proceedings, Jeffreys adopted a ruse hy which two officers visited the prisoners in gaol, with a promise of mercy if they confessed to their supposed crimes. Many did this, but found to their cost that it was merely a device of the brutal Chief Justice to enable him to deal ex- peditiously with the cases. In this way he sentenced 292 to death, of whom thirteen were afterwards executed. A few persons, by application to Jeffreys' favourites, were able to purchase their freedom, paying huge sums for the clemency granted. Some of those, however, that Jeffreys reprieved from a death-sentence had little cause — such was the almost incredible cruelty of the Chief Justice — to bless his leniency. Several were condemned to be whipped through every town in the county once a year, and, in addition, to suffer long terms of imprisonment and heavy tines. 176 p/ ' w WOODLAND' VKAK MKKK, WILTS I !i ; \i\ ^^W2^^^^^$W^ -■-■r-i -- •« Dorchester in Georgian Times One William Wiseman, of Weymouth, was ordered to be whipped a^ all the market towns of Dorset, hut the sentence appears to have been carried out only at Dorchester and Weymouth. From the time of the " Bloody Assize," history, in its widest sense, has little to do with Dorchester, and the next event of any moment after JefKre} ' visit is another fire which took place in 1725, and burnt a large portion of the town to the ground. This was followeil exactly rifty years later by yet another great fire, which would probably have destroyed the larger portion of the town, had it not been for the splendid efforts of the soldiery belonging to Sir John Cope's regiment of dr.igoons, then quartered in the town. Dorchester, although some distance inland, felt much of the excitement attendant upon the threatened in- vasion of Kngland by Napoleon in the early years of the last century , and it can well be imagined that the Loming and going of troops bound for Weymouth and the downs to the nor^h-east of that town proved a welconu- break in the monotony of life, and that the sctiKs of enthusiasm which marked the movements of troops and calling out of the militia throughout the west country found a strenu-^us echo in the town and MCighhojrhood. The presence of King George III. and his daughters It the neighbouring borough of Weymouth about the same time prove,! another source of distraction to Dorchester i^oik, who flocked towards the seaport in great Mumb.rs, giving a bustle and gaiety to the roads 177 12 ■ ---^ - '■' Wessex to which they had never before been accustomed— " journeying thither," as we are told, " that they might catch a sight of His Majesty the King, either walking or driving in the streets of the town, or a distant view of him bathing from the royal machine in the waters of the bay." Among the several interesting customs connected with Dorchester and its immediate neighbourhood was the ancient system of tenure by which land on the Manor of Kordington was held from the Duchy of Cornwall up to the year 1842, when the authorities of the Duchy refused any longer to entertain the applications from the copyholders for renewing of lives. By the custom referred to, each copyholder held his land on three lives, and when the death of one of them occurred, it was the practice to go to the next manor and ask permission to insert another person's name. Usually this request was granted on payment of a fine, varying in amount acconling to the si/e of the holding. This system of tenure has been referred to by Mr Thomas Hardy in his incomparable pictures of Wessex life and Wessex customs, and so long as it lasted the system proved a link connecting the Dorchester and l-'ordington of to-day wi*h those of feudal and medixval times. In the olden days, when a public execution at the gaol might be looked for to occasionally provide excite- ment for the inhabitants, it used to be the custom for manv to journey towr.wards from the country round for no other purpose than to see the unhapp\ criminal .78 ■-^^ M IS le IS m or le. ex ed :er no tc for nd na! :l >.i tr W^^m ^if- yvTO'^ya-- ■-^S'xr^^^m^'W.i^^^mmMww^ i^^i^^mM .m^m^:^ > IfTFTTT-' '''. \ i 1 ' * 1 ' « 1 ■iSrs: I'lUDI.KloWN ( Hllll M It I ■% :-X-%fr^a^; ?vi---_:>.;^-,-P>^ :l"^*^ 7^" % '\ i ■^-t-^dF- ;^,^-^ /- Thomas Hardy executed. In connection with these public executions, jiid as showing how general it was for all classes to regard the event with interest, and even as a sort of entertainment, the following anecdote may be quoted. When a boy, Thomas Hardy — afterwards destined to become one of Dorchester's most distinguished in- habitants — used to come into the town to school, and at an assi/e of this date a woman was tried for the murder of her husband at a village near. The husband was a dissipated scoundrel, who treated her cruelly and abom- inably. She was from all accounts a good-looking and kindly woman ; but one day, discovering her husband, who was unfaithful to her, under circumstances of grave suspicion, her anger was so aroused that she stabbeci him fatally. After trial and conviction, she was condemned ro death, and young Hardy, with a companion, witnessed the execution from the branches of a tree overlooking the gaol-front, on which the gallows was placed. The two boys appear to have scarcely realised that what they were witnessing was hard and terrible fact, and It was not until the drop fell with a thud, and his companion, who was on another branch of the tree, fell tainting to the ground, that young Hardy was at last brought to a complete realisation of the horror of the ^ccnc he had witnessed. This event probably haunted the imagination of the future novelist for many a long •lay, and it is not unlikely that it proved the germ for much of the tragedy of the latter part of his most ramous book, Tess of the UVrbervilles. •\i '■ '- rhf abo'.c stury, thuugli uacliii.jiia), may poi-sibly be laigcly ticlitiout. "79 1^ :»>i«T'-" -^^f?^-^ ^ u J \ { Wessex Although Dorchester of the present day is one of the most prettily situated and cleanly towns in Wessex, and a less sleepy place than in the latter years of the first half of the last century, it has still preserved much of its ancient character, both as regards its buildings and the types of those who come in from the country- side tor business or pleasure. The town on market days is well worth a visit from the curious, and the student of types such as those with which Mr Thomas Hardy has peopled the pages of his novels and verses- -pedlars and dealers from far and wide : the former, many of them, have trudged along the highways of Wessex from fair to fair, and the latter are mostly stout farmers, begaitered and red of face. Butchers and meat contractors from even so far afield as Southampton, Bristol, Exeter, and London jostle amongst the crowds who have come, some to see the " fat beasts," or their friends, and others out of idlest curiosity. Whilst carters, with a whip-lash threaded through their hat-bands as a badge of their calling, wander somewhat aimlessly in and out the throng, pausing to chat and listen to other people's gossip ; and here and there shepherds and farm labourers patiently wait, with stolid counte- nance and lack-interest eyes, to be hired for the ensuing year. But Dorchester, even when free from fait^ and markets, is an interesting and picturesque place, with three main streets, much as they were three hundred years ago, one running south and north to the point 1 80 i-l ;*f St Peter's Church near the church, where it branches T-wise into the other two, east and west. The chief huiJding of interest is undoubtedly St Peter's Church, which stands on the north side of the High Street, with the County Museum on one hand and the Town Hall on the other. It consists of a chancel, body, and two aisles extending equally with the former, and a fine tower some 90 feet in height. The northern aisle is plain, with its eastern end raised considerably higher than the rest, and embattled. It was either built or rebuilt by some of the family of Williams, of Herringston, whose vaults are there. The south aisle is embattled, with its eastern end also raised ; it is of very fine architecture, much of it being fifteenth-century work. The south door in the porch presents a curious example of Transition-Norman, the arch being pointed and richly ornamented with mould- ings of purely Norman ciiaracter ; the jambs are chamfered, and the rich mouldings are stopped by small carved brackets of Early English character. The church was considerably restored in 1857, when, unfortunately, several of the very interesting cross- legged effigies were much damaged. It is supposed that they represented members of the Chideock family removed at some time, probably at the dissolution c; the monasteries, from the priory hard by. There is also a curious and grotesque effigy to the famous Denzil Holies, who was one of the members of the House of Commons who held the Speaker Finch down in his chair till Parliament had passed its famous 181 -;.;vr!^,nr ^:fr^--iy^- 'llPJjmi /-^^i -...*\,.'7 rfJ.*f®'V li,,'^;»; '«*'»^ MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No 2 1.0 I.I 1.25 m 32 II 2.5 II 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.6 ^ /IPPLIED IfVMGE Inc m&m'^m r^i l!l' t H I ; I' ' . !' Wessex Resolutions ill 1 639. Holies was also one of the " Five Members" in 1642, and the impeacher of Archbishop Laud. A very old and interesting brass is that of Johanna de St Omero, the widow of Robert More, who died in 1436. There is also a fine Jacobean pulpit, and a monument to Thomas Hardy, founder of the Grammar School ; and the rood staircase is well worth attention. Outside is an excellent statue of the Rev. William Barnes, the author of Rural Poems in the Dorset Dialect. He was born in the first year of the last century, in the beaut'ful Blackmore Vale, which Mr Hardy has so eloquently described in several of his novels, and which became " the abiding-place of the people whose daily doings, sayings, and emotions have been crystallised in the poet's efforts." Indeed, those who would understand the life of Wessex, the dialect, and the point of view of Wessex characters could not do better than take up the poems of Barnes and devote to them a few hours of study. Of the other churches of the town, once eleven in number, and now only three, little need be said. All Saints, in High East Street, is an elegant building with a lofty spire erected in the first half of the last century. The church owes its existence chiefly to Mr Troyte, much of the work being done with his own hands. The west window was erected in "loving memory" of him shortly after his death in 1857. Under the tower is an interesting altar-tomb, from the old church, of Matthew Chubb, who died in 1625. Trinity Church, in High West Street, is a modern ^m^m^^ ^^--^tr-- --■i*^ I I lini \ 1 ■til (■OriACl. Al ll\( l.K.roN, NI-AK l)OH(HKMKIi riio hinuv ul c .iiolme A-peiit ol" " I'lir 1- iddk-i ol tin- Krcl>" iii /.i/i'< I.iltle !i\'ihes -• : I ii^ fri^ :^^^^y) 1 ! \ ■ I 'Vi^-':-'-^>»t.' >=>-.". ^r. ^■i>^-:' Fordington Gothic structure needing no very particular attention or description. It was rebuilt in 1824. Fordington Church, which lies just outside of Dorchester, was originally in the Transition-Norman style and of cruciform plan, but unfortunately it has been badly restored and mutilated. It is nevertheless interesting from the fact of its preserving several features or great interest to architectural students and archae- ologists. The tower is a good example of the Somersetshire type. A very interesting flat bas-relief representing a vision of St George (to whom the church is dedicated) is still to be seen in the tympanum of the south door, near by which is also a holy-water stoup of a very unusual form. The stone pulpit bears the date 1592, and is worth study. One scarcely looks for much of interest in such a building as the County Gaol, but that of Dorchester, built on the site of the old castle, on the rising ground to the north side of the town, contains a unique feature in the tessellated pavement of the chapel, which is a relaid Roman one some .,/enty feet square, discovered with other antiquities in 1858, whilst a grave was being dug for a murderer. Of the ancient priory litde more than the name remains, although it was undoubtedly once one of the most important foundations of the Franciscan Order in the county. Dorchester of to-day possesses few buildings of note, although several of interest ; nor, when one remembers the terrible fires by which the town at 183 s a l! iH ' i v m ggff-t-S?f:M..tii5?- V^j '1 ! ^ Wessex various periods has been devastated, is this fact to be wondered at. The County Hall, in High West Street, is an un- pretentious building erected at the time when the Young Pretender was troubling the government and even somewhat disturbing the peace of Wessex by his march into England in his unsuccessful attempt to wrest the crown from George III. The Town Hall, which stands close to St Peter's Church, is chiefly to be noted from the fact that it possesses an effective open timbered roof, and the chair stated to have been occupied by Judge Jeflreys when at Dorchester at the " Bloody Assize." The County Museum, on the other side of the same church, is rich, not only in a fine archaeological collection of British and Roman antiquities found during various excavations in Dorchester and neigh- bourhood, but also in a good collection of local fossils from the beds of Purbeck and Kimmeridge. There are some interesting old almshouses built and founded respectively by Matthew Chubb, who was M.P. for Dorchester in the first year of James I.'s reign, and Margaret Chubb, his wife; and others founded by John Wetstone, who in 1614 gave to the town by will ;^500 for the purpose. Napper's Mite, or Napper's Almshouse, situated on the eastern side of South Street, was founded in 1615, for the purpose of accommodating ten poor men, by Sir Robert Napper (Napier) of Middlemarch. In connection with this last-named charity. Sir Gerard 184 I 1 Maumbury Rings Napper, knight and baronet, by his will, dated Nov- ember 12, 1667, left all his Manor of Stert, in the parish of Babcary, in the county of Somerset, for the purpose of providing a divine service once a day to his alms-people in Dorchester, and for catechising them once a week ; £^ to either the schoolmaster of Dorchester for the time being or his usher, and, after the payment of the said j^f, to set apart so much of the rents and profits of the said manor as, together with the yearly profits of the chambers of his almshouse, would make and provide convenient gowns for the alms-people in the said almshouse once in two years. The remainder of the profits of the said manor were to be equally divided amongst alms-people. But if nowadays deficient in buildings of great interest, Dorchester can boast not only of pure air and picturesque surroundings, but also of being within easy reach of a Roman amphitheatre, and a British or Roman camp of the greatest archjeological interest. The first, also known as Maumbury Rings, is situated about a quarter of a mile to the south of the town, hard by the London and South-Western railway station. The famous architect of St Paul's Cathedral, Sir Christopher Wren — at that time M.P. for Weymouth, — was the first to call public attention to Maumbury. Authorities differ as to whether its origin was British or Roman, but several of the most learned have given it as their opinion that it is the work of Romans about the time of Agricola. The opponents of this view chiefly base 18S t ? I -Hi -r^- - ■■ '>.>V i ' iip .1 ^ « , Wessex their opposition on the fact that, although Maumbury is very different from the usual Roman amphitheatres, many remains of which are still existent in Italy, it resembles very closely the early British " rounds," of which I'iran Round, in Cornwall, about a mile and a half from Perranporth, is a fine example. Maumbury is oval in form, and is constructed in a series of raised mounds partly enclosing an open space ; in area it is some 2i8 feet in length by 163 feet in width. The rampart rises from the ends towards the centre, where it attains its greatest height (about 30 feet) and breadth. It is one of the most perfect relics of the kind in Britain, and it is calculated that its seating capacity was sufficient for from twelve to thirteen thousand spectators. By some it is supposed t'lat in Roman days under the thickest parts of the sides were the dens for the wild beasts, from which they were released for service in the arena. For many years, long after it had become grass-grown and rounded in form, it was used as the place of public execution ; and as recently as March 21, 1705, Mary Channing, who was at the summer assizes in the previous year tried for poisoning her husband, whom by her extrava- gance she had previously almost ruined, was strangled and afterwards burned in the arena in the presence of an immense throng of upwards of ten thousand people. Its use as a place of public execution was discontinued in 1767. From the western side of the rampart, a few hundred yards away is Poundbury, situated on the 186 H'UM IHK DKAN > <>K. •ft-: ^ V ^ '■i V^^wj^^ Wessex lodijc to obtain rest and rctrcshmcnt. Elfrida, who was anxious that her own son should succeed to the throne, seized the opportunity to herself stab her unfortunate stepson as he drank a horn of wine at her door. Then, accordini,' to the story, his horse, becoming alarmed, dashed away at a gallop, and the unfortunate King, falling from his saddle, was dragged several miles hanging from his stirrup, to a spot where he was ultimately found by Klfrida's retainers, dead and mutilated. The unfortunate young King's body, after discovery, was at first, by the Queen's order, hidden in a peasant's hut close at hami ; and on this spot a church was afterwards built. Then it was concealed in a marsh near by, and, according to several authorities, was first entombed at Wareham, whence the body was ultimately removed with great pomp to Shaftesbury. Elfrida, however, did not profit by her crime, for we are told that she was haunted by the shadow of her victim, and eventually died conscience-stricken at Wherwell //obey, which she had founded, as well as that at Ambresbury, in expiation of her crime. It is very generally supposed that the original Saxon castle or hunting-lodge — whichever it may have been — was destroyed by the Danes during one of their frequent forays, and possibly at the time of their first attack upon Wareham. It was not rebuilt until the period of the Norman Conquest, and there is no mention of the castle in the Domesday Book. In the reign of Henry II., a.d. 1154, and in the 192 ■■:-i-iy^S^&:t)--l--':: '' ^■^'^i It IS as as as ve er at as on en eir rst he no I " --«"---• ^^r^^ rrv-S;^-- ----=--■»»■ (OKKK (Asri.t. FKIIM SINK UAHHOW l)4l« S 1 t I I ! ■-«- -<-?. -J,:,, -.^'fc- ,-i^i- '■'i^:-'':r;i: !:^jz:'^%\ ;^'^J^v?f^ tL 1 I ' ! i ii V ill Ws^'i&m iti^ I' ' KiI$^^^A^W: Corfe's Famous Prisoners immediately succeeding reigns sums spent upon repairs to the edifice are mentioned in the royal accounts, and it was certainly a favourite place of residence with King John, who placed so much reliance upon its strength that during his dispute with the Barons it is chronicled that the royal jewels and regalia were deposited at Corfe. But John did not merely use the castle as a place of residence, for it was turned by him into a prison as well ; and after the attempt of Arthur to ascend the throne twenty-four nobles of Mirabeau, in I'oitou, were transported thence and imprisoned, with the result that all but two were starved to death. Among the other famous people who were incarcerated in this old i )rtress was Prince Arthur's sister Eleanor, known as the Damozel of Brittany, who was imprisoned here for several years in company with two daughters of King William of Scotland who had been sent to England as hostages for peace, and for securing the payment of iioo marks of silver to King John, who had exacted that sum after marching a powerful army into Scotland in the year 1209. Eleanor was after- wards removed to various prisons, including Gloucester and Marlborough, and thence to Bristol, where she died, after having suffered an almost incredibly long imprison- ment of upwards of forty years. So strong a fortress had Corfe by this time become that ^luring the rebellion of Simon de Montfort it was held by the Barons for a period of nearly five years against Henry III. It was in a dungeon of Corfe that the unfortunate Edward II. was confined during a 193 13 'i \i fl Wessex short period prior to his being conveyed to Berkeley Castle, where he was murdered on September 21, 1326. During the succeeding couple of centuries after the visit in 1356 paid to Corfe by Edward 111., the history of the castle is uneventful. It passed by grant from Edward VI. to his uncle, the Protector Somerset ; and Queen Elizabeth ultimately sold it to Sir Christopher HattoM, from whom it was acquired by purchase by Sir John Bankes, Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, the anc stor of the present fp.nily. But Corfe was destined a few years later to play an important part in the struggle between the King and the Parliament which was to be waged so fiercely in many parts of Wessex. At the outbreak of the Civil War, Sir John Bankes was summoned to the King's standard at York, and his wife and family took refuge in Corfe Castle. Although the Parliamentarian forces were very active on the coast and in the neighbourhood of some other towns not far distant, Corfe Castle escaped their attention until 1643, when a detachment of the Roundhead forces was despatched to attempt the surprise of the castle on May Day, when it was known that a large number of the retainers as Nvell as the inhabitants of Corfe would be away engaged in hunting. The garrison of the castle, however, got wind of this surprise visit, and succeeded in closing the gates ere the enemy appeared. Foiled thus, and disappointed by their failure to surprise the castle, the Parliamentarians demanded the surrender of the cannon which the fortress contained, and despatched a body of sailors to enforce 194 mmmmmwm^ Roundheads attack Corfe their demands. Lady Bankes, however, was a brave woman, and succeeded in mounting one or two of the guns on the walls, and in firing the same to such tlTect that many of the attacking party were wounded, and the rest speedily took to flight. The castle, however, was very imperfectly pro- visioned, and to obtain a sufficient supply she had to indulge in a ruse by which she sought to make the inhabitants of Pocle believe she had surrendered. Then she sent rr jssengcrs to Prince Maurice, who lay at Blandford .vith some considerable force, en- treating him to come or to send assistance ; and he hurriedly despatched Captain Lawrence to take com- mand of the castle. The Roundhead forces soon made their appearance at Corfe, and on the -3rd of June, under cover of a thick mist, they arrived from Poole and seized the town before those in the castle had dis- covered their presence ; and, taking up their position on the slopes of the commanding downs, they commenced to bombard the latter. So strong, however, did the fortress prove, or so inferior in calibre were the guns at the disposal of the Parliamentarians, that the cannon- ading had little effect. Realising that the reduction of Corfe by this means not only would be slow, but even unlikely to succeed in the end, the besiegers decided upon a grand assault. And so on a fine summer's morning, June 26, led by Sir Walter EarJe and other officers, the Roundheads, to the number of some six hundred, swarmed out of the grey stone houses and streets of the little town, and down from the heights, «95 ■* H r'i ■aw i M I ' I =■' Wessex and rushed up the slopes of the hill on which the castle st(Jod. An old report of this attack speaks very contemptu- ously of the action of Sir Walter Earle and the other officers, including Captains Henry Jarvis, Sydenham, and Scutt ; the first-named of whom, it would appear, was an arrant coward, who, although encouraging his men in the attack, took good care to keep out of harm's way himself, even being seen " to creep on all fours on the sides of the hill, to keep himselfe out of danger." And the same writer goes on to say : " This base cowardisme in the assaylants added courage and resolution to the defendants." So bold, indeed, did the small handful of these latter become, that they sallied forth and replenished their somewhat scanty provisions by the capture of eight cows and a bull, which they brought into the castle without loss. This attack repulsed, although the besiegers had meanwhile mounted a cannon on top ot the church tower, and "without fears of profanation had broken up the organ pipes for shot cases and torn off the lead from the roof of the church tor bullets, the active siege was for the moment abandoned."^ But on the arrival of reinforcements, in the shape of some 150 sailors, with several cart-loads of petards and grenades and other warlike stores, and a number of scaling-ladders, the attack was again renewed. But on these failing to effect any impression upon the castle, and the courage of the besiegers evaporating on account of the large number who had been killed and 196 ,) CORFK ('•roRVKS(;ATE"') CASTLK FROM UKST STREET A sctTK* in T^f H.ir.d of l'jitt(ot:rt..i ;J i t jgfi^,^t;^l^f^^,^?^?^^- ,- iP^-- w ir fm.-^ li i { i;' . '.1 > i The Siege of Corte wounded, not less than ^(.20 — at that date a very considerable sum — was promised to the first man who would successfully scale the walls. This had the effect of heartening up the attacking party, who made several assaults by means of the scaling-ladders and with fire- balls, with which they endeavoured to set fire to the place. But all these attempts were met with such a spirited reception on the part of the besieged that the attack was ultimately abandoned, and the besiegers suddenly withdrew on an alarm being raised that Royalist forces of considerable strength were approaching. The gallant commander of the castle. Captain Lawrence, who had been so ably assisted in his arrangements for the defence by Lady Bankes herself, was not, however, destined to escape from indirect personal loss, as Sir Walter Earle, chagrined at being repulsed, on retiring to Poole sent a party to the house of Sir Edward Lawrence, his father, which they plundered and de- stroyed, leaving only the four walls standing, and forcing Lady Lawrence to run for her life into the woods. For nearly three years the castle remained unmolested, although the brave lady who had defended it had suffered the loss of her husband, who had died in 1 644. In May of 1645 Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper received instructions from the Committee for the Western Counties to " forthwith repair to the Isle of Purbeck, and to draw together as speedily as may be out of the 197 lIlRii fijl! M m ill h III *i •i Ith I liii ii' I I.I '^ .! ■ i ^* Wessex garrisons of Poole, Wareham, Lulworth, and Weymouth such numbers of foot and horse as are sufficient to block up Corfe Castle." Provision was also made that, in the event of the castle being surrendered. Sir Anthony Cooper should have authority to make such terms for the freedom of the defenders and immunity of their estates as he saw fit. This was done, and in the October of the same year the castle was once again fesieged, this time by Colonel Bingham, whose troops had been reinforced by several regiments sent to his assistance by Cieneral Fairfax. As was the case at former sieges, a splendid resistance was offered, and it was not until after the forty-eighth day that one of the officers of the garrison, a Lieutenant-Colonel I'itman, decided to play the traitor, letting the enemy without know " that, if he might have protection, he would deliver the place to the Parliament." This offer was thankfully accepted by Colonel Bingham, who could not have felt at all certain of even ultimately reducing the place. Pitman's plan was to introduce some of the besiegers into the castle in the guise of friends, and he thus proposed to Colonel Anketil, the governor, that he (Pitman) should fetch a hundred men out of Somerset- shire to reinforce the garrison. To enable him to carry out this act of treachery, he pretended to the governor that he would get leave to pass the enemy's entrenchments under the pretence of procuring an exchange for his brother, then a prisoner within the Parliamentary 'ines, for one of the enemy's officers who had been captured and was a prisoner in the 198 -;_' '^^ -^r^-.-'^- Ill ill <'(>HKK OAMl.K I'll.-' Corve.i;.u.-i:, ii.- o! !'f Hi-:.! of l-.lk.-lhfrl , Mi,' I. \ --#=*•* j^^-f^-.V--" Vi i • I m ! 'I ' I , ■ I )lJ Ruins of Corfe Castle of the walls and towers having fallen from their original position on the mound into the brook which runs at its foot, and even having in their fall rebounded across the stream and the environing road. Whether viewed from north or south, Corfe Castle presents one of the most impressive sights imaginable, and, seen at dawn or sunset, is a spectacle of great charm and impressive beauty. Of the village of Corfe itself not much need be said. It is somewhat bare and uninteresting, consisting of one straggling main street and a little square. The church has been restored, and possesses litde of interest save its tower, which is of the Perpendicular period. The most interesting features of the place nowadays are the Greyhound Inn, with its quaint projecting porch and low-ceiled rooms, and the market cross, which, for many years a mere shattered stump, has now been restored to its origmal form. 201 CHAPTER IX THF STORV OK HATH AND WINCMFSTPR pnsca u the pr . ^^^^.^^^ importance "' I'hf r^Kh . so p,c,ures^uc,y suua.ed ,ha. .. has been well cakJ ".he queen of all the spas ■" *= "° ^o :L'':tr;:::i:^;:".:^^ts^r::!^ he aPP at.'- of splenJour a-a solidity which at once tik^ 1 who visit the town. The fact, too, that stone Ka en so universally used in the erecuon o. publK buildings and private houses »»-- f J„; ^^^^^ architecture that .s .n many instances vastly sup to the type generally found in modern towns. And 202 Legendary Bath 1,1 whether It be the beautiful abbey or the dwellings situated on, below, and above the northern slopes, where terraces and crescents rise tier upon tier to a height of some 700 feet, the etfcct is the same — u very >^t^iking and unique one. The testimony of many famous writers has been crivcn to Bath from time to time as a place of singular heautv and impressiveness. One of these, Walter Savage Landor, who travelled widely and was familiar withall that is best and most beautiful in Italian cities, yavc the palm to Bath for beauty and purity of archi- axturc, and made the place his home for many years. .Although the city is no longer the fashionable resort that it was at the beginning and early part of the last century, it is still one of the favourite residential cities III Kngland with those for whom beauty of situation, of architecture, and of climate are matters of first con- sideration. Although of comparatively modern growth, It has traditions so ancient that they go back even bcyoiul the commencement of the Christian era. There are two legends of Bath, both relating to Bladud, son of the British King Lud Hudibras, and the discovery — or perhaps we shoi. ' say recognition — of its springs as possessing medicinal properties. The later legend is that Bladud, a leper, expelled for that cause from his father's palace, wandered homeless to^ Keynsham, and there was compelled by stress of circumstances to adopt the occupation of swineherd. The story goes that his pigs became infected by him with the same dreadful disease ; but whilst one day 203 Hi ! ! :1 ' ii mv rW \ !•' ' )\ Wesscx >.nndcnnu in the valley of the Avon they rolled in the IZtnll. where them.neral waters had formed pools :, becam'e completely cured. Bladud, -ton.shed at th,s seemmg miracle, tned the same met odotc with a like success ; and, returnmg to h.s father s palace he was received back aga.n into sonsh.p, was s n, o Athens for education, and afterwards ,n due course ttming king, about 863 b.c. he founded a c.ty upon the spot of his healing. ^ The other legend, as related by Geoffrey of Mon- n.outh, runs as follows. Bladud was skdled m the black art, and created "the Bath" by means of .t d by placing a mysterious stone m the spnng which he found that made the water hot and capable of healing sick persons. Unfortunately for h,m, he became so enLoured of his power that he attempted to fly with a pair of wings of his own construction, and although'he managed to cover the distance from Bad. to London successfully, when hovering above the latte cit'- his wings failed him, and, falling on to the roof of th^ Temple of Apollo, he was dashed to pieces. It seems probable, however, that the virtues of the Bath spring! were discovered first by the Romans, a there is little doubt that they were used by them fo medicinal purposes about a.d. 44- By the ^om^^sth. spot wae. known as Aqux Solis, and was one of her tnost important stations. Here they built a temf^e to the goddess Minerva, and also instituted a college ot armourers, which manufactured the weapons of the legions. The Roman town was surrounded by walls, 204 CT m\ 1 1 i i; 1 \ 1 1 i 1 j. M i t f ii' HATM AHHK^ AVI' I'lM I'-UlMlM i I i I'l w mi IS 'I ;!l The Roman Baths which were approximately along the line formed by the streets afterwards known as Lower Boroughwalls, West- gate Buildings, Sawclose, and Upper Boroughwalls : foundations of the ancient ramparts have been frequently discovered when excavations have been made. They must have enclosed a considerable area, in which the principal buildings stood round about what after- wards became the site of the abbey churchyard. The temple which was speedily erected, and had a beautiful portico of Corinthian columns, stood near the site of the present pump-room. Many fragments were un- earthed at the end of the eighteenth century ; and the platform on which another temple must have stood was discovered w'lilst foundations were being dug at the White Hart Hotel in 1867. The Roman baths, for which, of course, the city is more particularly noted, were of a most magnificent description, beautified with columns and tessellated floors, and ornamented in the most chaste of Roman styles. The principal remains of these baths were discovered in the middle of the eighteenth century ; and not only were the flues found full of soot, but also the bricks were marked with fire. During the many centuries which had passed since they were last used, by a gradual accretion of the soil, the street-level had been raised 16 feet, and thus it was that the remains were for so long a period undiscovered. The largest bath is 1 1 i feet long by 68 feet 6 inches wide, with a depth of about 6 feet 6 inches, and had oblong rooms with semicircular 20s ^1 m fl ' ^ 11 tw M : Wessex rcccssc-s along the sides ; the walls which were un- covered proved to be some 6 or 7 teet in height, and were lined with a reddish cement. But although the haths are the chief Roman remains in the city, many other relics of the period have from time to time neen discovered, including inscriptions, altars, Samian ware, and several fragments of beautiful statues, and a wonderful bronze head which Warner identified with that of Apollo, but which other authorities incline to think is that of Minerva. Bath, with its many beautiful buildings and monu- ments, 'suffered as much or more than any other Roman settlement in Wessex from tnc departure of the legions. Most of the villas, altars, and other buildings which had been erected around the temple and on the slopes of the hill were soon destroyed, and a period of barbarism almost equal to that which prevailed before the advent of the Romar.s succeeded their departure, during which nearly all traces of what may be called Roman Bath disappeared. It was in this succeeding period that the Arthurian legend took shape, and several authorities have identified the spot of Arthur's famous victory over the Saxons, in 5^0, at Mnns Badonicus, as Bath ; but the more probable place of the battle is Badbury Rings, near \V;mborne, in Dorsetshire. The British power in the West of England was destroyed in 577 by the Saxon chiefs Cuthwinc and Ceawlin, who overcame the Britons at Deorham, and also captured (Gloucester, Cirencester, and Bath. 206 Mediaeval Bath After the capture of Bath by the Saxons, it became a chief city of the district of Hwiccia, and after a time, on losing its original name, it became known as Bathan- ceaster, the city of the bath, from which its modern name has undoubtedly been derived. The fact that the great Roman road from l,ondon to the West passed through Oxfordshire and by way of Marlborough came to Bath, and two other Roman roads, the Via Julia from South Wales by the Aust Passage to Cunetio, and the Fosse Way from Lincoln to Axminster via Uchester, converged at Bath, no doubt had not a little to do with its early rise to a position of importance. In 676 King Osric founded a convent here tor nuns, the patronage of which was acquired by OfFa, King of Mercia, in 78.. By this time .t had been turned from a convent to a monast.-y for monks only, and this foundation, dedicated to St Peter, remained thus until the Dissolution. During the Saxon period Rath made great strides towards being a town ot miportance, and from the time of OfFa it hecame a roval demesne, which in later times was held by Kdward the Confessor's wife Edith. A mint was also established here, and most of the \nglo-Saxon and Danish monarchs after Athelstan appear to have had their coinage struck at Bath. In 97 X at the season of Pentecost, and on the occasion of the coronation of Edgar by Archbishops Dunstan and Oswald, a royal pageant of wonderful magnificence ■ le city, and Leyland records the tact ,.'■-<■■ took pi ace in the 207 if iif' Wessex that in grateful memory of Edgar's munificence on f;';:cfsion, "they (the monWs) V^^J-Jj^; ceremonies for his soule, and a kmg ^s elected every yereTn joyful remembrance of Kmg Edgar and the pr vileges given to the toune by h.m Th,s Kmg , Ced and his adherents by the r.chest man of the oune- When Canute's father, Sweyn mvaded toune. vvncn Wessex in ioi<, he made England and conquered Wessex m lu j, attempt they made to j ^^ throne, but was rebuilt by John at v uiu , j mBmm itween Stephen and Mat.lda wa. .n progress^ disguise at Bf ' ^;; ^j ^er adherents, who were .evenge for ^^^^^^ ^,,,, .^ence, and, reaching stationed at BristoU ^^^^ ^^^^^^ ,„a earned Bath at midnight, sei^ea Dibi.ui. 208 U^4 The Great Rebellion th« stle until an exchange him oft" to imprisonment was brought about. In the reign of Richard Cceur dc Lion, Bishop vavaric parted with the lordship of the town in exchange for that of the rich Abbey of Glastonbury. His immediate successor, Bishop Joceline, removed the b.shopric once more to Wells, and when Bishop de \illula had taken the place of the Abbot the abbacy uith its dignity was lost for ever to Bath, there only remaining then a priory and the prior, with very much reduced revenues. The possession of the city for the next century or m^ re passed from one person to another ; Edward 1. bestowing it as a dower upon his Queen, Kleanor, and afterwards rescinding the grant in favour of Bishop Burnell. Edward 111., m 1341, granted the borough a confirmation of former statutes a,ul gave it additional liberties ; and at the same time a bridge was thrown across the Avon to Lyncombe, which proved a great boon to the traders of Bath, who tormerl)- had had to wade across the ford with their noods when the annual fair at Lyncombe was held. '' Queen Elizabeth visited the city in 1591, whilst on her way to see her godson, Sir J. Harington, at Kelson. , f 1- 1 During the Great Rebellion, Bath proved of little use to either partA", on account of the fact that, being surrounded by heights, it was quite impossible to hold >t against even the light artillery of those days. _ But quite close to Bath one of the great battles of the war in the West was fought on July 13. '^43. ^^^^ 209 '4 ' !l,i 1 'l;ii^ MM *•! I if' I Wessex of Lansdowne. In July, two years later, the city was selected as his headquarters by Sir William Waller. In June 1685, on the approach of Monmouth and his troops, the inhabitants shut their gates against the Duke, and obliged him to commence the retreat upon his previous line of advance which culminated on the fatal and disastrous field of Sedgemoor. Although Bath would not receive the Protestant Duke, not a few of its inhabitants fought for his cause, and as a consequence a number of them were condemned by Judge Jeffreys to death or transportation to the plantations, and six of them were executed at Bath with all the horrors which marked the execution of the rebels in other places of the West. In ancient times Bath enjoyed an unusual amount of royal patronage, as it was visited by Charles II., who was accompanied by James, Duke of York, the Duchess of York, and Prince Rupert, in 1663 ; and Princess Anne — afterwards Queen Anne — came to Hath in 1692. Owing to the fact that she was out of favour at Court, the Mayor and corporation were for- bidden to attend her to church, as was then the custom. But she repeated her visit ten years later at their request, when a magnificent pageant was arranged in her honour. About twenty years afterwards the Princess Amelia paid a visit to the city, and the event was also made the occasion of a great deal of merry- making and general rejoicing. A few years later Frederick, Prince of Wales, paid a visit to the town, and at the end of the eighteenth century the Duke and 210 Woollen Trade of Bath Duchess of York were also at Bath, and in 1796 the Prince of Wales came. Although Bath has never been the seat of any very important trade or manuficture, it is probable that cloth was made in some considerable quantity in ancient times, and the woollen trade flourished in the town during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries ; and even from the reign of Henry VIII. to the seven- teenth century the place was noted for " Bath beaver," a variety of woollen cloth. It was about the commence- ment of the reign of Charles II. that the industry began to decline, and nowadays no traces of it exist except in a customary grant made every twenty-four years, from a sum left by Sir Thomas White in 1566, as a loan to young men of good charact< • going into business— this fund being especially bequeathed to places noted for woollen manufactories. The ancient annual fairs of Bath, relics of the customs of past ages, were suppressed in 1852, much to the distress of the more lively of the inhabitants. It is supposed that the cloth-making industry was founded, or at all events greatly encouraged, by the prior and abbots of Bath Abbey ; and this supposition is borne out by the fact that a shuttle was added to the arms of the monastery in the fourteenth century, and was to be seen on the front of the abbey as late as the last century. The architectural beauties of Sath are nowadays almost entirely modern ; very few old buildings still remain, and certainly none of those Leyland in the 211 i)i n !: i i •'-'■:<: I ' \ ' ' Wessex sixteenth century and Chapman in the seventeenth century so eloquently described. A few fragment of the ancient walls and of the ramparts stdl rema.n, but sincrularly few traces of a.Kient buildings have survived. Ws, who v,sited the city in .668, left a very flatu-ring description of it, which >s poss.bly no untraceable to the fact that he records " havmg dmed very well." But he ca. only have seen the outside and fairer characteristics of Bath, as V\ ood, a noted architect, states that in the end ot the seventeenth century the interiors of the Bath houses were very poor; and he states that "the houses of the nchest ^habitants of the city were for the most part of the n.eanest architecture, and only two of them could show the modern comforts of sash windows. The growth of the city seems almost to have .tood stdl from the end of the sixteenth to the end of the seventeenth centuries, as it is recorded that during that period it was only increased by seventeen '""iTolden times the "beggars of Bath" were famous. The reason of their number and pertinacity is given by Fuller as follows : " Whither should fow flock in hid frost l.u. to the barn door? Here all the two seasons bring the general confluence of gentry. Modern Bath, with its f^ne architecture and appear- ance of general prosperity, and its popularity as a esidentiaf resort, owes much to the work of two n,en-\Vood, the builder, and Beau Nash, the mas er of the ceremonies. It was in 17^8 that the elder 212 ir- a vo ter ler mi Ui i J I w h. . t IHK HKllHiK AT I'ltlOU I'AKK. HATH i' ^! r^ Advent of Beau Nash Wood began his building speculations, and erected Queen's Square on what had been a piece of waste land. Twelve years later the tine North and South I'iirades were '. uilt on what was formerly a mere marsh, and then followed Gay Street and the Circus. The magniticent Royal Crescent was designed by the elder Wood in 1769, and was erected about the same time as Camden Place and Pulteney Street. During this period Hath had immensely increased in popularity, and from the middle of the eighteenth century till nearly the end of the reign of C.eorge III. it was the focus of fashion and one of the greatest health-resorts in the Kingdom. The name of Beau Nash has become inseparably connected with Bath. He commenced life in the army, but soon, tiring of the profession, he left it and turned to the law, spending most of his time, however, as a man about town. He soon ran through his property, and at the age of thirty was a ruined man, and almost entirely without resources of any kind. But the lucky circumstance of his visit to Bath showed him a means of attaining wealth, fame, and power, which his genius for trifles, his excellent taste, his shrewdness, "and his organising ability soon turned to iTood account. On his arrival at Bath in 1703 the Town was almost entirely devoid of any amusements. There was but one promenade, and the only ballroom was the bowling-green, with an orchestra composed of .1 fiddle and a hautboy. So neglected was law and order that no respectable woman could pass along -''3 i ■i!ii.'ii \^ I- \ ^^.^^ *^^?' "^^ =-; "SfcTjsi -^•'wS^/^i? f'> i i MN 1 i I i Wessex the streets without molestation after dark. The Pump Room was without a manager, and, to add to the misfortunes of the town, physicians were beginning to throw doubt upon the medicinal value of its spa. One famous doctor, who had taken affront at some slight he had received at Bath, virulently attacked it as a health-resort by the publication of a pamphlet throw- ing doubt upon the efficacy of its waters. It was at this moment that Beau Nash came upon the scene, and he soon, by the institution of a band and other amusements, attracted to the town a large and ever- increasing clientele of fashionable and wealthy people. Soon, under his direction, a handsome assembly room sprang up, and Bath was established without question as the " Queen of Health-Resorts." Nash reached the zenith of his popularity and success during the third and fourth decades of the eighteenth century, and then came the inevitable dechne, when he suffered both from poverty and the desertion of his gay and tided friends. At last the corporation of Bath, recognising what he had done for the town, found it necessary to grant him a pension of ten guineas a month, and on his death, at the age of eighty-seven, in 1 761, they defrayed the cost of a public funeral. From the time of Beau Nash's advent upon the scene Bath continued to grow in importance and in size, and soon many of the meadows which lay on the outskirts of the town were covered with fine streets. 214 Bath in Fiction Both Miss Austen and Miss Burney laid scenes of their novels in Bath, and many readers will doubtless remember those laid in the Pump Room and its vicinity which appear in the pages of Evelina^ and the pictures of old-time Bath "society" life to be found in Northanger Abbey. The abbey church, which was dedicated to St Peter and St Paul, was originally founded as a nunnery by Osric in 676, and was destroyed by the Danes, and refounded as a college of secular canons by Offa in 775. These secular canons were in the reign of Edgar (970) superseded by Benedictine regulars presided over by Alphege, the afterwards martyred Archbishop of Canterbury. From the time of John of Tours the abbey was gove -^d by a prior until the dissolution of the monasteries, when it was surrendered to the Crown by Prior Holway in 1539 The church was offered to the city for the sum of 500 marks, but, as the offer was declined, the glass, iron, and lead of the building were sold to certain merchants, who sfipped it and left only the mere carcase of the beautiful building remaining. This was purchased by Humphrey Colles in 1542, who sold it to Matthew Colthurst, by whose son it was made a present to the city of Bath, and it has since remained the mother church of the town. The church had been commenced in the last year of the fifteenth century by Prior Birde and Bishop Oliver King, but its progress was stopped for a time by the dissolution of the abbey forty years later. The 215 ill I I ri ;l ' ':-ii ^'-i ^X \ Ti i 1 Wessex building was left in a very incomplete state and all 'became ruinous and dilap.dated, unt,l o.e Peter Chapman, in the year .57^comm-ced therepa.ro its eastern end. The church, which is one ot the latest ^e^":: of Perpendicular Gothic in BnU. was slowly repaired by subscriptions during ^.^abeth In and at last the choir was sufficiently hn.shed :' be consecrated. Bishop Montague afterwards ompleted the nave in the early part of the sevent^ent century, and the aisles and transept were added b) various benefactors. . ro^cnns There is a curious tradition concerning the reasons which led Bishop Montague to ""^^^;^'^^. f J^j; he did. According to the story, one day the Bishop, whilst walking with Sir J. Harington of Kelston. was overtaken by a sudden heavy downpour. The latter Td the Bishop into the roofless church, under the pience of taking shelter cnerein. The Bishop realised ^h pity of Its incompleteness, and undertook the work of finishing it. This building, which contains relics o th work of Bishop de Villula in the bases of the Norman columns, is said by Richman to contain a ..liar mixture of plainness and ornament some o hrmouldings and details being extremely large and others uncommonly small : it nevertheless contains son. parts of great beauty. Various restorations have from time to nme bee,, earned out, and those of Sir Gdbert Scott were admirable and in strict keeping w.th the original des.gn. The buildi.ig is now unfortunate y J\y overcrowded with tasteless monuments, and .n 216 Ai?p?~>t_ «^ -*- '^^--Z^- .•^, :'Wv6??S^:^ '^i-ir^i ^Irtt-v iS IS le :d -k cs of Tie )m •zvt in "♦ 3^' ftvi. i?t- ■ '/^>il%f:i^>-\-^v. Mgm vj|w «ill?j!p^ ^^^^^ 11 1 1 h < 1 ■i^m M if ^1 ( 1 ''''-W .,ii &i^- ^^ ^ aif.-;: ^ 1 r fie"S i1 h' '1 ri.AVKKTON MANOlt, NKAK IIATII "^■'■:;i->/?e«i?^ 111 «■?■ *i' ss-' ^1i ft -^*! "^'-1 . i Bath Abbey connection with this there is an admirable French jeu tf esprit : Messieurs, vDiis vine a trcs bicii ici C)uf CCS caux lie soiit pas d'eaiix de vie. The eastern front is very plain and heavy, but the western possesses a magnificent window of seven lights, flanked by turrets on which arc carved angels ascend- ing and descending ladders. These emblematic figures commemorate the dream or vision of Bishop Kmg, who, tradition asserts, was induced to do the work of building the church by a revelation of the Holy Trinity, with angels on a ladder and an olive-tree supporting a crown. These latter symbols he inter- preted as being the indication of his own name, Oliver King. Although, as we have before said, many of the monuments are not distinguished by either beauty or good taste, there are some few, by such artists as Klaxman, Nollekens, Chantrey, and by Bacon the younger and Bacon the elder, which deserve attention, and serve to leaven the unsatisfactoriness of the memorials as a whole. One of the most interesting is that of L.ady Waller, and her husband who fought at the battles of Lansdowne and Roundway Down. In connection with this monument there is an unpleasant (if true) story of James II., who, tradition asserts, whilst passing through the abbey in company with Friar Heddlestone, vented his anger against the great Parlia- mentary leader by knocking off the nose of his effigy with his sword. 217 ! ( ^f_ Wessex Fepys, in his diary, however, exonerates James from this outrage, as, writing some years before the latter came to the throne, he mentions inspecting the monuments, "among others, Dr Venner, and Felling, and a lady of Sir Wm. Waller's, he lying with his face broken." The church is very rich in epitaphs and inscriptions, many of which will repay the attention of antiquarians and the curious. Bath has no other ecclesiastical buildings save modern ones, although two of them — St James's and St Michael's — have been erected on the sites of ancient churches. The most beautiful of Bath's present-day churches is the famous Roman Catholic church of St John the Fwangelist, with a lofty and striking spire. Of other public buildings, the Pump Room, a structure of classical character with a Corinthian portico and the motto APIiTON MEN YAQP — water best of elements — and its memories of Beau Nash, is the chief. And here, although the attendance of people drinking the waters is far less large than in its most flourishing days, there still gathers a considerable assembly of visitors and others during the day. Even the glories of the King's and Queen's Baths seem to have departed nowadays, and thosr i.sing them are indeed a sober throng compared with the ladies and gentlemen who in the days of the town's greatest prosperity used to meet together in the water. Anstey, 218 I ! Celebrities of Bath the satirical author of The New Bath Guide, speaking of this custom, says : 'Twas a glorious fight to behold the fair sex All wading with gentlemen up to their neclcs. There are several other baths, some of them of ancient „r,gin, in addition to the two we have mentioned, which are more or less patronised nowadays, according to the particular season of the year. None of the other buildings have any great historical interest, as the Inigo Jones Guild Hall was replaced in ,--75 bvthe present building ; and the old Assembly Rooms,' which were the scene of Beau Nash's glorj-, ^vere destroyed by fire in .820. The Upper Assembly Rooms still exist, comprising a handsome suite situated close to the Circus, and built by the younger Wood '" Manv celebrated people lived at Bath during the period of its greatest prosperity-amongst them Bishop Butler, the author of The Analogy ; Robert Nelsoii, author of Fasts and Festivals, and the founder ot the Blue Coat School in lyn ; William Pitt, the "Great Commoner"; and the famous painter, Thomas (.ainsborough ; the famous General Wolfe ; Herschel, the astronomer; Walter Savage Landor, author ot the Imaginary Conversations ; and William Beckford, the author of Vathek, the builder ot Fonthill, and an eccentric but keen collector of pictures and bric-a-brac^ Although Bath has nowadays fallen from its high estate as an ultra-fashionable watering-place, it is still 219 ■'^. < «! i^y.: '^^-■Xii^ -i-'tV -^-r Wessex one of the most charming urvi picturesque towns in the whole of l-.nglana, and few who visit it but have the desire to return. , Bath is on the north-western conhnes of Wessex, and Winchester may be said to be almost at the other extremity. Once the cap.tal ot hngland, th.s historical city is strikingly situated on the slope; ^nd at the bottom of the chalk valley through which .ne nyer Itchen flows nearly due north and south. Surrounded as it is by chalk downs, there are many beautiful views from them of the venerable cathedral standing on the more level ground in the centre of the old town, which contains so much of architectural and antiquarian interest. , ,. Identified with national history from the very earlies times, Winchester was originally a Celtic town situated on St Catherine's Hill and known as Gwent, after- wards renamed by the Romans Venta Belgarum and was connected by roads, some of which remain till the present day, with other cities-Calleva (Silchester), Portus Magnus (Porchester), and Sorbiodunum (balis- bury) The Roman city was an important one, and few places in England have yielded so many and such interesting remains of the occupation. The great Roman road which passed through the town in those far-ofTdays is still preserved in the guise of the modern High Street, south of which then lay the more important part of the city. The- name of Wintanceastre was given to the place by the Saxons when they took it ui 495 ; ^"'l ^ft^'' '^^ ^"^^ ^"^^"'"^ 220 I 1 il \ (■ A W I s-l A \ II I Ai.l i> ' i ! I !l!t Anglo-Saxon Wi ".ester „f the Britons it was created the capii [ of Wessex and from that date its ecclesiastical history may be said to have commenced. Indeed, it may be considered at this period to have been the capital of England itselt, tor it was here that Egbert proclaimed his lordship ; that ilLthelwult made his gift to the Church ; Edward the Elder, Alfred the Great, Athelstan, and Canute held their courts ; and many of the ancient kings of Wessex were crowned and buried. Winchester in those early days underwent, as did so many other towns, great vicissitudes, and during the reign of Athelstan it was attacked by the Danes ; and according to a legend the issue was decided by :. single combat between the famous Guy, P.arl of Warwick, and Colbrand, the champion of the invaders. It was also at Winchester that William the Conqueror, Stephen, and Richard I. were crowned ; and during the reign of the first-named the great fair on St Giles Hill, which was destined afterwards to raise the city to such a height of commercial importance and recognition, was instituted. To this fair came eventually merchants from Flanders, Krance, Italy, and other parts of the Continent, anxious to sell their goods in exchange for the noted English cloth. In 1285 the first Winchester Parliament was held, at which the famous statutes of Winchester were framed; and durine the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the city was frequently the scene of royal visits and royal pageants. Its woollen trade, which declined towards the end of the reign of Henry VIII. 22 1 i -M W T M iM M 95|n 1 i I h) ^ Wessex and gradually became almost extinct, has never been replaced by any similar manufacture or trade, and now- adays the city depends upon the fact of it being an episcopal seat and possessing one of the most ancient schools in England for its chief claim to importance. Few places, indeed, in the Kingdom possess greater historical interest than Winchester, nor are many more picturesquely situated or more closely surrounded with places of interest for the antiquarian and the general tourist. The cathedral, with which visitors are at first sight apt to be a little disappointed, is one of the most interesting and in some particulars the most beautiful in England. Its great length is the fact that strikes the visitor first : the nave is ver) long, though rather narrow, and, including the choir and Lady Chapel, the cathedral is the longest in England. It seems more than probable that the present building not only occupies part of the site on which stood the Saxon church of Ctnwalh, erected in the latter part of the seventh century, but also that of the original Roman church of St Eirinus. The former was rebuilt in the latter part of the tenth century by Bishop vEthelwold, and the remains of St Swithin were transhted thereto. Iii these two churches many of the Saxon kings were crowned and buried ; th. present cathedral being commenced by Bishop Walkelin immediately after the Norman Conquest. Although the exterior is largely Perpendicular in style, traces of Bishop Walkelin's Norman work arc still to he found in the piers and 222 I I The Cathedral walls of the nave. The very plain west fiont was erected by Bishop Edirgton in the fourteenth century, who, it would appear, was next to Wykeham one of the most active of Winchester bishops as regards building operations. The nave was partly pulled down when the west front was built, and in crnsequence the extreme western end is in a different style from the other portion, and this is particularly uoticeabl. of the north aisle. The nave is considered by many to be the finest and perhaps the most simple example of Perpendicular work remaining in England ; it was finished by Cardinal Beaufort and Bishop Waynflete, who suc- ceeded William of Wykeham. One curious feature that is very noticeable is the Perpendicular work which was engrafted on the Norman by the latter, who with Sireat and unusual boldness cut the Norman work into harmony with then modern ideas. The north and south aisles contain many interesting memorials of military, literary, and ecclesiastical celebrities. In the nave stands the exquisite chapel of William of Wykeham, which was built during his life, in the fourteenth century, on the site of an altar to the Virgin. The oak screen is modern, and was erected to the memory of Bishops Wilberforce and Garnier. The fine pulpit is of fifteenth-cen«-ury date, and w iS the gift of Prior Silkstede. The .credos at the back of the altar is also a beautiful piec( of work dating from the fifteenth century. The stone screen on the sides of the presbyterv was added by Fox about the com- 223 I ''I: I ! !•. t! "v^i-y-'/ \W'. t i •I Wessex mencemeiit of the sixteenth century, .is were also the curious chests which are said to contain the bones of six Saxon kinc^s and bishops transferred from the more ancient church. Alfred the Great was first buried m the old minster, but tradition asserts that after his bones had been twice removed they became lost. The bones of the kings whose names are on the chests must have been m^ixed together, if not at the^ time of their first transportation by Bishop Henry ue Blois, certainly when they were put into the chests by Fox ; and as the boxes were broken open by the Parlia- mentarians during the Civil War, their authenticity must be taken upon trust. The remains are supposed to he those of Kings Eadulph, Kynegile, Kenulph, Egbert, Canute, Rufus, Kvimund, and fLdred, Queen Emma, and Bishops Wina and Alwyn. The patron saint of Winchester was Bishop Swithin, afterwards canonised, who is so well known owing to his connection with the legend of St Swithin's Day and its forty days' rain. The north transept is one of the most mterestmg portions of the cathedral, and contains the greatest amount of Norman work ; the tnforlum and clere- story arches are all in probability Walkelin's work. The chapel of the Holy Sepulchre contains some very singularly interesting early mural paintings of the incidents of the Passion. In the north aisle of the presbytery is the monument of Hardicanute, the last I^inish-English monarch. In the north chapel of the Guardian Angels, dating from the end of the 224 } ^ William Rufus twelfth century, amongst other monuments is that of Bishop i^thelmar, dating from the thirteenth century. The Lady Chapel, with its -xquisite arcading, is probably the work of three different persons. Bishop lie Lacy, and Priors Silkste^. and Hunton. There .irc here also curious mural painting repr enting scenes in the history of the Virgin Mary ; in the chapel is a plain tombstone said to mark the grave of William Rufus, who, after his deati in the New Forest, was conveyed in a cart to Wii lester for hurial. The place originally chosen was close to, or un^er, • e great tower, whose subsequi t fall ws regarded by the superstitious as a token of the Divine anger. Rufus' bones were then taken up and re-interred before the hi(Wi altar, and were in 1868 finally removed to their present resting-place. There, however, appears to be considerable evidence that the bones were long before collected by Fox, and that they are probably in one of the chests we have already referred to. There are four interesting chantries close by — that of Waynflete, dating from the fifteenth century, and distinguished for its beautiful canopy ; and those of Cardinal Beaufort, of rather earlier date, Bishop Gardiner, which contains the tombstone of King Kdmund, and Bishop Fox, dating from the early part (it the sixteenth century. In the south aisle is the hurial-place of Richard, son of William the Conqueror, and in the south transept lies the venerable Isaac Walton, who died in 1683, part-author of the famous CuiHp'ete Angler. 225 15 ( . i ill to '-rj li'l '! ^m^^^^m^*\ ?'i .1' Wessex Outside this noble and ancient fane are precincts well in keeping with the calm and beauty of the building itself. On the south side of the cathedral lies the greater portion of the picturesque close, with the deanery and residences of the various canons. Of the ancient cloisters, which were pulled down in the reign of Elizabeth by Bishop Horn, there are few remains ; but what there are can be seen on the left side, coming out of the south door in the grounds of the deanery. A row of Norman arches, visible from the close, form a portion of the old chapter-house in which Archbishop Langton absolved King John. The deanery contains many interesting remains and relics of the past — amongst others, the Hospitium or Guest Hall, dating from the time of Edward I., now used as the Dean's stable, and the great hall, now modernised and divided into several portions. It was at the deanery that Charles II. several times lodged, and it was here that the notorious Nell Gwynne was refused admission by Prebendary Ken, afterwards made Bishop of Bath and Wells, and was compelled to content herself with an inferior lodgment outside the precincts. Winchester has ever since Saxon times been noted for its educational establishment. Alfred made it "the home of all the learning and the arts known in that day," and it was here that the famous and m.ost valuable Anglo-Saxon Chronicle was commenced. Winchester College has been famous since the days when William of Wykeham built it, in 1387-98, and arranged its 226 i^ff'^:- IHK RK.TRO-( HOIR. WINCUKSTKH ( ATHKIIRAI.. WITH IHK CHAVTRIKs OP ( AlinlWI. RKAl-KOKI \VI' BI>H(ll' W A VVKI.l- IK : I ^.' - ,4 » ill '^ ■a ' 1^ -.*!**,;'- •^*.-^•' .;'*■ M^ If 'If^.' I ' ' h ! f< . I Winchester College internal economy on the strange Scriptural symbolism which has made it unique in that respect amontrst all schools. This inclui'ed a warden and ten tellows, who represented the eleven Apostles, excluding Judus ; ^cventy scholars and two masters, representing the seventy-two disciples ; six chaplains and clerks, re- presenting the six deacons ; and sixteen choristers, representing the four great and twelve minor prophets. The school buildings, which extend on the south side of the close and along the banks of the Itchen, arc very considerable, consisting mainly of two quadrangles, in the first of which are the residence of the warden of the college and surrounding offices, and the inner quad- rangle containing the school buildings, many of which retain their ancient form and are of great interest. The chief of these are the chapel, dining-hall, dormi- tories, class-rooms, and kitchen. Over the gateway leading to the first quadrangle are statues of the Virgin Mary and the Archangel Gabriel, which fortunately escaped the destruction wrought on many other statues and images by the Puritans during the Civil War. The chapel, which was built in 1387, is of great beauty. The wooden fan-tracery of the roof is exquisite, and the east or Jesse window, although of modern date, is considered to be a very fine copy of the original. The hall is a fine room over sixty feet in length, and is very little altered from its original condition. The old wooden trenchers which were formerly used by the scholars as plates now serve as bread-baskets. In the anteroom to the kitchen, which 227 ii iU O' MICROCOPY RESOIUTION TEST CHART ANSI ana ISO TEST ChaB' No 2 1.0 I.I "'"" IIIIIM E ^--- IIIIIM mil 1.8 1.25 I! !.4 1.6 ^ ^ppLit=n irvWGE inc 1; Ih Wessex is entered at the toot of the stairs leading to the hall, is the celebrated picture of " The Trusty Servant," which depicts a mysterious combination of a man, a hog, a deer, and an ass ; the inscription describes the various qualities possessed by these animals, which, in the opinion of the writer, go to make a trustworthy domestic. In the remaining portion of the quadrangle are placed the dormitories, which present a quaint example of the primitive and rather Spartan-like sleeping arrangements of the schoolboys of former times. The "library contains some very rare and beautiful MSS. and early printed hooks ; and the stained glass dates from the time of Edward III. The big school-room was built about Charles 11. 's time, and has a statue of William of Wykeham over the door, by Cibber, father of the famous actor and author, Colley Gibber. Most of the remaining buildings are more or less modern. From this famous and beautiful old school have come throughout the centuries many of the most distinguished men in English history, more especially those famous in literature, law, and arms. Only fragmentary ruins now remain of the old bishop's palace, known as Wolvesey Castle, which was built by Bishop Henry de Blois about the middle of the twelfth century ; the fragments are of Norman date, except the chapel, which is Perpendicular During the Civil War the castle was demolished, and a new palace was afterwards begun by Bishop Morley, 228 Winchester Castle from designs of Sir Christnphcr Wren ; but this was also pulled down, and, except for a portion of a wing now used as a class-room, nothing of it remains. Since its destruction the Bishops of Winchester have had no official residence in the city, but have always lived at Farnham Castle, Surrey. There are many other interesting buildings in Win- chester, including Morley's College ; the City Cross, tifteenth-ccntury work restored by the late Sir Gilbert Scott ; and St John's Hospital, founded at the end of the thirteenth century for needy travellers. The remains of Hyde Abbey are also interesting, owing to the fiict that the first abbey of the name was built by ;\lfred, and he himself was buried there. The ruins, however, relate to a later abbey built in the reign of Henry I. Of the castle built by Henry III., who was born in the city in 1207, only the beautiful hall of the palace now remains, and its rows of pillars dividing it into aisles, and its church-like style of architecture. It was used for a long time as the county hall and assize court, and was restored by Wyatt. At one end of it haniis a most curious and interesting picture of King Arthur's " Round Table," showing him seated in the centre with his crown on, and each of the twenty-four radiations containing the name of a famous knight. The date of this extraordinary picture is not known, but that it is of great antiquity is proved by the fact of Its mention in historical MSS. dating from the time of Henry VI. 229 r ' hi ■ I. »:- ■^■.: Wessex In the courtyard of the castle many tragic scenes have been enacted in the past. Here in the fourteenth century was executed the Earl of Kent, brother of Kdward II. ; and at the beginning of the seventeenth century seme barbarous executions of priests took place. Here also was committed one of the most heinous of judicial murders, when Dame Alice Lisle was beheaded, after sentence by the brutal Jeffreys, in 1685, for her supposed complicity in the Monmouth rebellion. Beautifully placed amidst the chalk hills of Hamp- shire, full of historic memories, and still in a measure redolent with the atmosphere of ancient times, Win- chester stands to-day one of the most interesting of Wessex cities, as in Saxon times it was one of the most important in the whole of ELngland. Much has been written concerning Winchester and its history, but words after all prove but imperfect media by which to translate into actuality the beauty, interest, and senti- ment which permeate an ancient town like this. 230 ■ I les jth of 1th lok ost isle in Jth tip- ure in- of lost een but 1 to nti- i i \Y rn^ \\ ^- VV" . = ^;-L--\'iJ::-^:^ ■ '^ff''.'. % I'lNK-WOOl)^ VKAK HOI USKMHirH ■ \ ■.\ , ' ^^^^■H B^B^ ^■e ^^^V ^^^^1 - ^^^^1 ■* ^^^^^1 W ^^^^^^1 •4 • ^^^^^^1 * ^M S-' il '*:«, I iT'M 1 t 1 .^' ' ■( ■■r 1 i i 1 s i !?' \ , n I i ' i CHAPTER X THE FOLR SEASONS IN WESSEX To one who has known Wessex, has lingered lovingly amid its lanes and valleys, has climbed the steep sides of natural downs and of British and Roman camps, has seen early dawn and gorgeous and almost Venetian sunsets gradually illumine or flood the landscape with almost indescribable beauty, it is difficult indeed to determine in which of the four seasons of the year Wessex is fairest — in spring, when new life is coursing through the countryside and there is a fresh- ness of greenery pleasant alike to the eye and the heart ; in summer, when white roads stretch past broad fields of ripening corn, the shady coppices resound with the songs of birds, and the promise of harvest greets one on every side ; in autumn, when the days begin to draw in and shadows to lengthen on mcor and hillside, and the woods and lanes to take upon themselves the glorious mantle of the dying year ; or in winter, when grey mists and tempered sunlight, hoar-frost and sparkling rime, give a beauty of their own to moorland pool, placid river, and naked hedgerows. " Each season has a beauty of its own," 231 i; •i 1 I* ■»■ 1- H I 11 iL a Wessex ^-r!^ i I 1 wc arc told, atui of the four seasons in Wessex this iixiom is singularly true. Spring in Wessex ! In the lanes which creep sinuously, as though indifferent ot' purpose, below the swart expanse ot" Bere Heath, part ot the famous Kgdon Heath of Mr Hardy's The Return of the Native, or lead the traveller hy easy gradients into the leafy boscage of Cranborne Chase, or from the larger towns to scattered hamlets, nature is astir. Cireen jewels of buds are gemming the long bare branches overhead, ami on the latter throstle and blackbird carol a full-throated welcome to spring. Beneath the hedgerows the tlowers are springing — bright-eyed primroses, tender-hued violets, and silvery anemones ; and later on masses of may and blackthorn blossom give the hedges a bridal robe of white fragrance. The tiny rivulet, freed from icy bonds, sings its song over the pebbles, and here and there flashes with light as the sunshine strikes its fretted surface through the hedgerow or overhanging branches of trees. As Shelley sings : I'hc bni:htcst hour of unborn spring; I lifDugh the winter wandering, Fouiul, it seems, the lialcyon morn I\) hoar February born ; Bendins: from Heaven, in azure mirth, It kissed the forehead of the earth, And smiled upon the silent sea. And bade the frozen streams be tree. And waked to music all their fountains. The spirit of new^ life has commenced to strew 232 IS ■p )t1 to re id ry rii :c. jht he ev t I, 1 1 I ^Ju r^ ''i? ^ f ew HI A W I- N>h A HllXU Nl > \|i 1 f 1 H •A rl I \%^ m -: '',i;,= ^' ■■^.K-fv-;?^- . ^:-'f'"^y-yyf---^p.^-:T}S I Springtime in Wessex flowers upon the barren way, and ,n ^^ cs ex th p> o spring is in the air-the amh.ont sunshine, the blue sky with banked clouds white and impressive as Alpine peaks, and the sense of Nature's awakening. ' l.'the coppices which lie over the hedges re wonderful carpets of vernal green diapered with the yellow blazonry of primroses and deep-blue patches o hyacinths. And as the sun sinks westward at close o day, the fretted tracery of twigs and branches, as )et hut partially delivered from the starkness ot winter, Hes upon the mossy and flower-bedecked undergrowth In the vale, through which a placid river flows past willow-clad banks and rush-grown pools, at early dawn dianhanous mists have hung-mists out of which Titania's robe might have been woven ; swirling vapours in fantastic shapes, at first grey and sombre, and then, as the sun creeps up over the environing hills, tinted with all the exquisite colours of nacre and „t the rainbow. Upon the steel-grey pools and in the shallow backwaters coots dart like ebon shuttles to and fro, eager for the work of rough architecture which forms their nests, and leave a furrowed wake of npples behind to mark their courses. On the downs of Wessex shepherds are bus), and flocks once more appear to roam at large. And amid the gorse of moorland, and the stunted heather of the outer wild, birds are building to an accompaniment of twittered music and fluttered wings. On the coast the sea breaks in gentler music, and seems to say. Winter is gone and spring is here. And ?33 ■! 1 1 m '■ 1 \ , ' i '\ \ ,.i 111 vA ! I ^ \\ We s sex in the caves and on the rocks of deserted shores the deep organ-note of winter seas gives place to the softer lullaby of spring ; and the crying of gulls and sea- birds seems softened in the mating time. But it is in the orchards of north and north-western Wessex that spring is most exquisite. The rugged trees, which but a few months ago, in their nakedness and grotesquenesses of aged growth, appeared even in the light of day impossible of beauty, and at night alarmingly distorted, are decked with a beautiful garment of pink and white blossom, transfiguring them and rendering them lovely beyond all other springtide visions. And beneath them, as the soft breeze from off the uplanils lilows, comes a white and pink carpet more exquisite of tint than any yet woven for the palace of a queen — a carpeting of green and white, ghostly at dawn, and fairy-like at sundown. Surely it is on such an one that the " little, wise folk " of legend and story hold their revels. This i? the time when bit by bit The il;i\f begin to lengthen sweet, And everv minute gained is joy — has sung a poetess. And of such is the springtide of Wessex — when, as Francis Bacon says, " the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air, where it comes and goes like the warbling of music," and Nature, as yet untired by the labours of a year, is fresh from winter's sleep, and eager to do her best to rejoice the wayfarer, and bring hope anew into the heart of man. When summer comes, with its wealth of blossom and 234 er rn :d ss in ht ul m de m ik en id n. of of nd ■et r s nd i''>'' nil- KHMVl HM\1 HIM Kll XMI'IdV HIIIIX.H ^ 4 i J \ i ^ I ■?■/'-.• s. y'l^:V-^rf-i\; ^.i}i - .'/^."^■i-r Ti^-'i^- -t'!*-* - iiiii Summer Time in Wessex harvest, the pilgrim in Wessex will find a new interest in its scenery and its life. Lanes and byways, which a few months before held but the promise of rich foliage, now have that promise fulfilled. The overarching trees make a royal canopy of shade for the sun-weary eyes, and provide many a pleasant wayside nook for tired bodies a-tramp. Now the hedges are gay with blackberry, clematis, dog roses, and bell-flowered convolvulus. The little brook which trickles along below them sings a sharper song than in spring, for its volume is less, and its notes, as it passes over the pebbles, are attuned to a different key. Beside it now are kingcups, orange-yellow and athirst for dew, in place of the paler primroses, and the shy violets have given place to azure-eyed forget-me- nots, whilst in the banks bloom the purple cranebill, pink mallows, and crimson -tipped daisies, all half- hidden 'neath the lush grass and fronds of hart's-tongue and " basket " ferns. In the hedges are heard the querulous twitterings of the nestlings, and the anxious calls of parent-birds who have returned to find their fledglings gone. There is not the joyous, full-throated carolling of the year when young, save perhaps at early dawn and when at last the shadows come after the long summer's day. But to the hedgerow and the field have come new inhabitants — many-hued butterflies hovering and flitting from daisy to thisde and hedgerow to hedge- row — dainty, fragile things fit only for summer's breezes and summer's sun; and gauze -winged 235 ; I' - i^ Wessex dragon-flics, with stc-cl-hluc bodies, flashing hither and thither in the sunshine. In the sunlit vales the cattle are lowing, standing knee-deep in the meadow grass, or in some tree-shaded pool at a river bend. And in the pasture the grass is tailing beneath the rhythmic swing of the scythe, and to the mower's song. The river itself has cast the silver of its surface into Nature's melting-pot, and now, in the summer sunshine, shows long stretches oi dazzling gold. In the shadows, the current plays against tfie rushes and pours forth a humming melody like that of a slowly driven spinning-wheel. The coot has built her nest and hatched young, and now she sails across the quiet reaches of the river with a flotilla of fledglings in her wake. Sometimes yet in Wessex, if the wanderer is fortunate, he may catch a glimpse of a sheeny kingflsner, watching from a willow trunk with bright eye, or flashing like a ray of amethyst and emerald downward into the shimmering water. In the farther woods which lie amid the hills there is a shade for the weary — the deep shade and the silence of the eternal. Underneath is the carpet of flowers which love the coolness and the filtered lights of the woods — tall foxgloves mottled pink and white, wood betony and yellow toad-flax, and the emerald- green mosses and colour-enriched lichen, which few fabrics woven by human hands have succeeded in imitating in colour or rivalling in beauty. Whilst hidden in the upper branches of the overshadowing 236 r< :l l I •r»' \:x^.-r*.. -t f - _ - 3 ' 't- •• v^ iT'i «l'l(ISi. IV » I ^-lA i ';( ii If' Jji*-. *1 JhiH r- :l 'V/r, f-W' Noon and Eve foliage the song-bird's note, hushcii in the sun-stricken open, makes melody. In the silence of the summer's day — I'hc time so trariiiiiil is aiul clear. That nowhere 4iall ve tiiul, Save on a hiiih and barren hill, An air of passiiiji wind. AH trees and simples, i;reat and small, That balmy leaf do bear. Than thev were painted on a wall, No more thev mo\e or stir. On the high chalk downs, whose rounded bosses, in the springtime green as emerald, now have taken upon them somewhat of the tan of summer's sun, the great flocks are wantlcring, and the tinkle of sheep- bells (the music loved ot shepherds) floats faintly down into the valleys. On these uplands, the soft summer's breeze sings at early morn and at even in the gorse, but at noon is silent, made dumb by the ambient sunshine. But when the night-wind blows, it is scented with the perfume of gorse and upland flowers— wild thyme and briar and pinks,— and the shadows thrown by the moonlight chase each other across the hill-slopt-. and the conies frisk and scuttle from the warren to the gorse, and from shade to twilight patches. Over the valleys beneath comes the pall ot a star-lit night, the scattered hamlets in the vale gradually fading from view ; and then yellow star-like lights blink at one from the windows of scattered farmhouses for a time, 237 '; i^J Wesscx if and then all is again wrapt in the blue darkness of a summer's night. At summer's dawn on the coast the grey waves break with a lazy music along the suntly shores, and with a more silvery song against the rocks and crags. And out at sea "the white-sailed ships dream on their shining way." At the edge of the seu, white-winged gulls hover like unquiet spirits ; but the beat of their wings is slower than at other seasons, and when they contend against the gale. By noon, the lazy summer sea has written its rippled story on the strand, which none human can read, for the wave-characters have a place in no language : they are the lettered notes of sea-music, sad or gay, as its mood may be. Summer, the time of flowers and ripening corn, brings to Wessex gardens a blaze of colour, a riot of blossom which speaks of rich soil and pure air. Over the thatch of cottages climb roses red and white ; along the tiny paths leading to porch and cottage door nod campanulas and roses, and the mingled scent of stocks, sweet peas, and lavender perfumes the air ; whilst on either hand are wide-faced yellow sunflowers and up- standing spikes of red and white hollyhocks. In such gardeiis, instinct with colour, perfume, and beauty, is the concentrated joy of summer life, with the underlying song of beesand the twittered accompaniment of sparrows in the thatch. Many a Wessex garden is indeed a quiet bower, far from the noise of town — a spot full of sweet dreams, and health, and gently breathing peace. Autumn brings many beauties to Wessex — exquisite 238 Hi- 1 i A i' ^^^r^ _.-yt-^iz.-^^^l ^"^ ll SL'MMKK IN WKSsKK -^. _ M . :-v-:- -T'T:^^ \ 1[. 'I ! 'W^ Ii ' Autumn in Wcsscx tints of foliage, beauty of cloud and shadows, glories of the lingering summer days. Along the winding lanes there is new charm. Overhead the green canopy has changed to one of yellow, russet, crimson, and browns of" many shades, and underfoot the carpet of the dying year is thickening day by day. In the hedges the same story is tol''.. Lmgering blackberries give a sombre or a crimson note, and ihe scarlet of the wild rose's fruit flashes upon the wayfarer on every side. Creepers are "turning," and excjuisite autumn tints are veining all leaves. Nature's rich pencilling for mortal's admiration. Summer flowers yet linger in the hedges, loth to go with the rest of summer's joys, and the pale forget-me- nots seem to be frailer still beside the brook and river. In the orchards golden leaves are falling, to rival in their carpeting of greensward underneath the trees the beauty of that of spring ; and boughs which bent with blossom are bending 'neath the russet and the suii- kissed crimson of the fruit. In the wide fields the nodding corn, yellow-brown, is falling in the track of the reaping machine ; but here and there comes still in Wessex the music of the sickle, and the rustle of falling swat les of heavy- headed grain. And amid the corn and behind the sweep of scythe are Wessex maids, busy to bind the fallen stalks, on whose cheeks, as Tom Hood wrote, All autumn flush Deeply ripened ; -such a blush In the midst ot brown was born. Like red poppies grown with corn, 239 h^^0^V^^^' *'. Wessex In the wcll-watcrcd vales ot" Wessex the cattle roa at will amid the grass which is a rich aftermath. T river flows along less noisily than in the drought summer days, now once more silvery grey and gre where the weeds grow thick, in place of golden wi me summer sunshine. The reeds are high along t banks, and they bend reluctantly beneath the flow water, and the velvety brown spears of rushes n gravely in the autumn bree/.e. The silvery green the willows is now changed to pale gold, and at su down, in this season of mists and mellow fruittulne diaphanous vapours enshroud the landscape. On the uplands the breath of autumn has come : t bracken has put on its exquisite garments of brow the gorse's golden glory is slowly fading, and t wild thyme no longer gives cut its full perfume, nights the flocks herd in the shelter of the gorse, 1 the night-wind blows chill. Below the downs t woods stretch, a blaze of orange, purple, and bro' foliage, slowly thinning in the autumn wind. The vear grows still again, the surging wake Of full-sailed summer folds its furrows up ; As after passing of an argosy Old silence settles back upon the sea. And ocean grows as placid as a cup. Spring the voung morn, and Summer the strong noon. Have dreamed and done and died for Autumn's sake ; Autumn that rtnds not tor a loss so dear Solace in stack and garner here too scKin — Autumn, the faithful widow of the year. In the coppices the nuts are falling earthward fn 240 i^ llllil IIIATII IS Mil viV. WITH (.Allows Hill IN IHl- l>l«.l'A\( I rill- ■■ Ki;(lcMi lI'Mili "I th.- \V.--^r\ N'avrl, ;tj .- I '\ U Mi ■A I i I An Autumn Night their husks, and the industrious and provident squirrels are already laying up their winter stores. Here and there in cottage gardens under the hills roses linger amid autumn flowers — reminders ot the summer that has gone into the past ; and from the cottage chimneys the blue smoke of wood-tires curls — another signal that autumn is here. William Barnes, the true poet of Wessex life, has pictured an autumn night : Now the light <)' the west is a-turn'd to gUH)m, An' the men be at hwome vrom ground ; An' the bells be a-zendcn all down the Coombe p'rom tower their mwoat)sonie sound. An' the wind is still, An' the house-dogs do bark, An' the rcK)lcs be a-vled to the elems high an' dark. An' the water do roar at mill. The sea, too, which now surges on the Wessex shore o' nights with a dirge for the summer which has gone, has taken on its autumn tints. Now at dawn it is grey as a Puritan maiden's gown ; at noon, grey-green as chrysoprase, not a wedding of amethyst and emerald ; and at sunset a slaty blue, ominous of coming storms. Its voice upon the shore has altered too, and the listener for its music hears the low booming as of minute-guns — the diapason of the sea, or the harsh rattle of the shingle like " reeds " out of tune. Under the moon it is sullen and cold, and the unbroken fairy moon-track of summer has vanished. But autumn in Wessex has a rare beauty both of foliage and of atmosphere, and Nature paints her clouds 241 16 It I' \S i'\ Wcsscx m I I at sunset with no iiiytrartily haiul. In the western skv is often a hia/c of glory, a heightened echoing of that in wooiilanil glatle anil hedgerow of the earth. When winter comes, it is but to give another season to a year full of varied beauties. The dawn breaks red anil flushes for a brief space the hills, ere permeating the sheltered vales beneath them with its roseate hue ; and seaward it turns the pale and ghostly chalk cliffs intc things of pearly beauty. .Along the lanes, erstwhile a bla/.e ot autumn glory overhead and leaf-carpeted beneath the feet, bare trees point skyward — their branches a black tracery against the pale winter firmament at dawn ; at eventide i weird tangle of half-lost shapes. Over the field: almost from sunrise to sunset hang blue-grey mists torn now and again into fantastic forms as the winter'; bree/e comes across the hills or down the valley. On the uplands is the great silence of winter From the heights one can see fairy \a!! s emcrgii.^ for the moment from their enveloping mists, t< disclose the steel -g.ey ribbon which marks th( course of the river. But all around is silence Bullfinches no longer sing from the gorse bushes larks no longer pierce the clouds and drop their string of melody down to earth. Even the conies seem t( have retired to their burrows from the chill of winter' dawn and winter's day. In the vales the rush-grown river flows, swollen b rains and the inpourings of new-made brooks am rivulets, under a sullen sky ; the rushes, olive-grec 242 Winttrr in Wcsscx iifKi withcrcii-hrown, forming a thicket aloiiij its hanks. Ill the meadows and in the p(H)ls, where the river has overflo.ved its banks or formed backwaters around the sharp curves, the birds of winter give the only element of life — agate-hued wiKi duck, dup.-Loloured pl(.."T, and long-billed snipe. On the moors, not long ago ablaze with purple heather and gloriously golden with late-flowering gorsc, there is a sombre beauty which the great novelist of V.'essex has so often referreil to — a beauty which pervades the heart of the wayfarer, ami grips him with an emotion finely tuned to the vast silence of those lonely wastes. In winter, whether in daylight or ui d.irkncss, these illimitable moors are the abode of mists and tempests; at night becoming "the home of strange phantoms .... the hitherto unrecognised original of those wild regions of obscurity which are v.iguelv felt to be compassing us about in midnight dreams of flight and disaster, and are never thought of after the dream till revived by scenes like t^'3." Amid the stretches of olive-brown heather anil whins, and stark and stunted trees, the tiny pools stare up at the grey and heavy sky like the dull, glazed eyes of mammoth beings stretched dead upon the wild. Along the Wessex coast huge waves are surging — wmter waves, hungry and sonorous. And in the sea- washed caves there is the booming organ-note of storm, carried miles inland by the rising gale. From the rocks, lashed by white crest of surges broken in their attacks upon the immovable, comes the sharper 243 I if |] 1\ II i^ Wessex music of a wailing note, half wind and half sccthii foam. Winter has touched the sea with her darkling spt and come are The strong, shouting; Jays and nights that run, All white with stars, across the labouring ways Of billows warm with storm, instead of sun. And as one stands upon the sea-girt heights Bv some tempestuous bay, What time the great sea waxes warm and white, And beats and blinds the following wind with sprav — the watcher feels the spell of winter's rude magniticen But its most beautiful aspect is when hoar-frost a snow come, turning the bare into the clothed w its bridal garment of white, and its spp.rkling jew of rime ; making the hedgerows, though stripped foliage, one exquisite fairy-like tracery of soft whitem Each blade of grass in the meadow is now a gemn spear, brighter in the winter sunshine than any polisl lance of knight of old. Along the roadside withe thistles and upstanding teasels are transformed i exquisite clusters of sparkling gems and fairy diade On the uplands the gorse is rime-laden and beauti with the fretted webs of spiders like the exqui tracery of rose-windows set in the shining walls some fairy palace. In the -"alley, white and glistening beneath mantle of hoar-frost, the little brooks are silent, 244 I . I Hot KtlAMrinN 11 ASK, \h Alt iMHt'UK^I h H I'll'- Mril-tKk L.uH- n l'i<.i,-> ih- (}r(>-vu- k- /"/■, N t: if^ffT^ I; t li «l Winter's Garment the river flows slowly, and looking the blacker for its environing fringe of rime. Reeds and rushes, sedge and weed, are jewelled by Nature's profuse hand, and winter's beautiful garment enshrouds the land, vale and coppice and sloping pasture. On the great stretches of moor, which lie beneath the winter's sun glistening with the exquisite sheen of frosted silver, the pools which lay dull under the lowering sky now glint like blinking eyes at the way- farer, at night becoming steely mirrors under the pale-faced moon. Here and there a ruddy-breasted robm, " Christ's bird," carols on a gorse twig, or from the naked branch of some storm-beaten tree ; but all the other voices of Nature are still. But there is yet a fairer, purer beauty sometimes, when on moor and vale and coppice and hillside white snow-flakes have floated, blotting out all ugly things, all angles of Nature's architecture. Then it IS a white world indeed that lies under the red winter sun— a world of snowy imagery beneath a mantle of unsullied purity. Then at even Burning logs, drawn from iicar-by copse and ancient wood. Smoulder ruddy on the hearth, And the flames send shadows dancing Keeping time to upward-flying sparks. Whilst outside the winter wind is voicing Dirge-like music of the dving day. I- I I - S ( 245 \ i :1J CHAPTER XI A ?AMOLS FAIR, AM) SOMK WESSEX .'PES 1\ olden days there were many fairs held in the variou towns of Wessex, but nowaday- such institutions an rapidly disappearing, not only in Wessex, but all ove the Kingdom. There is, however, surviving almost ii the centre of Thomas Hardy's Wessex the Fair heic annually for two days in the third or fourth week ii September at Bere Regis, the Kingsbere of Tess o the D'Urbei^illes and Far from the Madding Crowa This famous fair at Woodbury Hili, which player so important a part in the life of Bathsheba an^ Sergeant Troy in th'.- latter novel, has in these day of change and fret fallen somewhat from the positio of supreme importance which it once held in th estimation of dealers from so far west as Bath an Bristol, and so far east as Basingstoke and Reading But fortunately for those who arc interested i the survival of ancient customs and institution: it still retains many of the features which hav served to endear it in times past to the farm banc and their lasses, and still possesses some of tf element of romance it had at the period when N 246 A Famous Fair Hardy described it so vividly in Far from the MaJJin^ Crowd. Woodbury Hill, the "Green Hill" of the novels, on the summit of which the Fair takes place, is an outstanding lanuinark for miles around, towering as it lines some 250 feet above the level of the quaintly placed Bcre Church and the depressed meadows, in which arc a few fragments still remaining of the hunting- lodge once standing there belonging to King John. Up the steep road leading to the crown of this erst- while British camp and Roman military station, for several days before the Fair, toil, amidst dust or mud ruts, as the weather be fine or wet, showmen's vans and trolleys laden with the disarticulated fragments of steam roundabouts, swing-boats, and " galloping horses." The ::ipsies, in picturesque tattered and weatherworn attire — which, alas ! they lay aside on show-days for bastard finery and cheap velvets, — the drovers and horse-dealers (possibly horse-stealers also), come later, on the eve of the first day of the Fair or in the early morning of it. Those who would see Woodbury Hill Fair, who would mix for a time with the people of the Wessex soil — many of them still quaint, unsnjii Isticated folk save in horse-dealing, farm lore, and the judging of live stock — must be afoot in Bere Regis streets almost at day-dawn. Ere the mist which rises from the little stream running, or perhaps one had better say meandering, ncur the foot of the slope on which the church stands, and still clings to the meads, has yet had time to dis- 247 ! I If II V i. fit N Wessex sipate it<^clf, along the roads from Blaruiford, Dorchester, Wareham, Wimborne, Salisbury, and even from places further afield, come flocks of sheep, stallions, cattle, and ponies. • u » Down Bere Regis main street— in truth there is but one to this quaint old-world townlet— in the growing light of a September dawn one hears the tramp and click of advancing horses, the crunching patter of passing sheep, the slouching gait of weary k.ne. Past the Drax Arms— unwontedly full and^lively at this early hour— they go, and thence, amid a 'smother of flinty dust, away up the steep road to Woodbury Hill. "Good marnin" ; where beest thee a-goin" ? " " 'Ow be you .' " " Nicelv, thank' ee," and similar phrases come from the roadway outside the inn, varied by an occasional, and shriller, woman's note : « Who'd a thought o' seein' yew ! " or " Well 1 never, 'ere ye be agin t' year ! " , a- ■ u A rough but not altogether unmusical guffaw is the sole audible reply to the latter remark, though a " Doan'i ee now ! Do leave 1 alone ! " in a woman's tones serve; to'throw some light upon the nature of the greeting. Up the hill a few hours later a stream of countr) folk from far and near— farmers and their wives anc sons and daughters ; strangers who have come to se( the fun— advance, either by the road or by a steej ascent afforded by a short cut. If by the latter, .vhei viewed from a little distance they look like ants. Stiles are clambered over with a rural recklessness o 248 of h ( I I UK 111 liK(.I^ '111'- K^mj-i.'-rr i.l /'. . '/ •*• l> I rf.i-.u.f. ^ ■f ; '■ T'i h^ I" Origin of the Fair immodest disclosures made in so doing by the strapping VVesscx wenches. A torn dress, a violent plunge down- wards into the not unwilling arms of attendant swain, who stands expectant and chid in a " pepper-and-salt " suit of West of England tweed, k-ing the cause of un- bridled and long-continued merriment. " Aow Joe do squeeze 'er ! " " Do 'ee leave go o' me ! " " You'm a-squeezin' 1 t' death ! " and similar ex- clamations serve to punctuate the laughter. On the top of the hill— on which, tradition asserts, a pedlar some time prior to Henry Ill.'s day, overtaken by a storm, when the rain ceased, spread out his stock on his cloak to dry, and did so good a trade with the country folk that he came again year by year, and thus founded the Fair— the fair-goers soon gather thick. By this time drovers have penned their sheep, got their cattle into the spaces allotted for them, and the various showmen are busily engaged in putting the finishing touches to their arrangements for affording the holiday-makers amusement. Then, as the crowd increases to a remunerative extent, the first strident notes of brazen-lunged steam organs located beneath the gaudy gold, green, and red canopies of the round- abouts break the silence and float, mercifully softened, down into the townlet itself. Half an hour or so of yokel indecision, and then the " galloping horses," swing-boats, and merry-go-rounds fill up, and the raucous voices of thei^r proprietors grow less insistent in their exhortations for the crowd 249 1 « ! \fi Wessex to spend a penny on "all of the fun of the Fair." The poses assumed by the Sallies, Janes, and Susans may not be over-sedate or elegant ; but they are eloquent of bucolic ease and enjoyment. And if " Willyum " does press Saireys ample waist too closely for good manners, her satisfied smile and his rapturously vacant ga/.e do much to take off the edge of any impropriety. Around the swing-boats and kindred joys are bandied broad Dorset jokes which would look strange in print — humour racy of the soil, but perhaps somewhat unfit for modern susceptibilities ; witticisms bred of the promiscuity of farm life ; asides which would bring blushes to less sun-burnt cheeks than those of rustic maidens. Into the decrepit building, which stands from year to year on the summit of the hill, defying weather and time's ravages bred of desertion — once inhabited, but it would appear now merely used as a beer-house at fair times — go red-faced, thirsty souls of both sexes in search of cider and "four" ale, possessed apparently of an infinite capacity for enjoying and imbibing both. From the interior of this house come snatches ot songs in dialect — strange, soft, buzzing words punctuated by fragments of music-hall ditties picked up from travelling showmen or on stray visits to the larger ;owns. Toward the edge of the hill, where these half-ruined habitations are thickest, on the sloping and uneven green sward are cantering, galloping, plunging, or kicking hacks, ponies, cart-horses, and farmers' cobs, 250 .1 ' -air. usans r arc id if osely ously any idled print unfit • the bring rustic tands fying -once as a lis of essed and come vords ickcd o the Liined leven y, or cobs, ;(* IHK ( III iU II A I Hhill li^l.l^ I <» it ' i . i :■ J Some Wessex Types surrounded by a crowd of eager critics and cautious buyers, who sway hither and thither in humorous and feigned affright, in avoiding the restive animals which are being trotted round for inspection. Here, alas ! nowadays are to be found but few of the old types. Kustian-clad and gaitered farmers are now being fast replaced by smartly attired gentlemen who have their clothes from Bath or even " Lunnon." The old-lime drovers, too, are few and far between, and in their picturesque place stand mostly merely shabby farm hands or well-clothed but un-ideal dealers. Back to the main street of the Fair : along it hustles a motley crowd. On either side are stalls gay with crimson-coloured "rock" done up in strawboard cartons, gingerbread covered with " hundreds and thousands," cheap china, gaily painted whips and rattles, men's braces, " warranted strong " or " extra strong," boots and shoes of appalling blackness, women's clothes, with blouses warranted to fit — so hucksters declare — any figure, pea-nuts, and such modern wares as lady " teasers " for use at sundown when the fun gets fast and furious, scent-squirts (which the girls seem to appreciate when emptied over them or down their necks by some bold swain), and even confetti ! " Buy ! buy ! buy ! " sings out a red-faced man selling brushes and combs at what appears to be an alarming sacrifice. " You'm not agoin' to say no to 'onest Jack ! Look 'e 'ere, vive combs and a brush for a shillin', and hall guaranteed. What ho ! There, missus, you'm got a bargin." 251 III I" ( I I i^ Wcssex This last remark to a stout lady with four or five children in her train, as she pushes through the out- skirts of the crowd and becomes the possessor of the brush stuck full of combs. A little further down the street of stalls is ranged a row of life-size figures — the Czar of Russia, the Kmperor of Japan, General Kuropatkin, General Noji, the Grand Dukes, the Emperor of Germany, Joseph Chamberlain, and other celebrities — grinning open- mouthed ; and in front of them a crowd of little less open-mouthed country folk. In the faces of some of the liolls are stuck clay pipes, and the lucky adventurer who can throw a wooden ball between the grinning jaws can (in the words of the proprietor) '* taike 'is chice of enyfink hon the stall " ; for the proprietor is from " Lunnon," and the stall bears above its gaily coloured awning the mendacious announcement, " Patronised by the Roycl Family." To the left is a circus and menagerie — a travel-worn canvas tent surmounted above the entrance by weather- worn representations in once gaudy colours of the attractions within. It must have been in some such tent as this that the redoubtable Sergeant Troy is described in Far from the Madding Croiud i& giving his sensational performances of Dick Turpin. Outside the tent a disreputable specimen of " The Pelican of the Wilderness " is struggling with the lady who takes the money, to the immense delight of a small crowd. The lady wishes the bird to sit on the big drum and make himself agreeable to the people ; 252 five 3Ut- the iged the 'oji, icph ■)en- less 2 of urer aws hice rom ircd iscd 'orn her- the iuch y is his The lady )f a the pie ; . .» <-i : A (OKVI l; OK A WF,^-.B\ KAIK 3 t 3 I :i. if ^ ty -J I Fun of the Fair the pelican wishes to get inside and dress for his part of the performance. Savage pecks at the lady's skirts ,inJ side-rushes to get round her, however, avail him nothing : clasped by his sinuous neck, he is at last perched on the drum, but only for a moment or two. The sound of the "unrivalled orchestra," consisting of a fiddle, trombone, and a cornet, within fires him to fresh endeavours, and this fime he hops down, and, making an insolent peck at the lady's well-displayed ankles, succeeds in escaping within the booth. At the end of the lane of stalls and to the left is a show t^uch as used to be more frequent in bygone times. Outside runs a narrow platform on which stands a red-faced man alternately thumping a huge drum and banging a copper disc suspended from a pole, which serves as a clangorous gong. A child is giving illustrations of step-dancing and high kicking, whilst two women in tights and brief, heavily spangled skirts pirouette before the gaping crowd. " Walk up ! Walk up ! Only tuppence to see the mysteries and marvels," cries the showman. No one, however, moves. The Dorset labourer and his lass are much like sheep : they are inclined rather to follow the example of others than take the initiative themselves. The red-faced man exhorts one of the young ladies to greater energy in pirouetting. The crowd gapes more, and makes trenchant criticisms upon the young lady's figure and attire. A man at the other end of the plat- form turns the handle of an organ, and amid waltzing, 253 Wcsscx drum-thumping, tymbal-bangiiig, ami loml-voictil en treaties, at last a hobbledehoy of fifteen, fishing out his tuppence from the depths ot" his corduroy trousers pocket, slouches forward somewhat shamefaced, and clumsily climbs the steps. More banging, more vociferations regarding the mysteries within to be seen for only tuppence ; a reference to some " earth " men whose horrid present- ments are painted on canvas and hung outside ; and the stream is started whicl. -oon fills the limited capacity of the tent. AmoiiLTst other entertainments and shows are the double-headed lady— an illusion which would scarcely take in the most innocent of yokels, — a chicken with three heads (born in the county), ami other freaks in which the people .ippear to delight. There useil to be also the loud-voiced, reti-faced, ami jolly-looking gentlemen who, with small tables in front of them, invited Hodge to predict under which thimble the pea would be found. These must have tione a good trade, for even Hodue possesses the speculative instinct which leads him to reckless prophecy on the chance of " making something." Then as the afternoon wears on little groups of country folk seat themselves on the slopes which over- look the picturesque townlet away down in the hollow of the valley, and talk over old times, and express the opinion that the Fair is not what it once was. At sundown, when the blue September shadows commence to enshroud the vast stretches of Here Heath ^54 en out iscrs and the ; a !>ent- ithc ry of the rcely with ts in d to kinp hem, .' pea rade, /hich e of IS of 3ver- jHow s the dows leath 1 I .IIMCKniS, 1M)U>KI Thr Mil.iK'' 'i.-.ir rilliuth.w-. /'.. .-/ •"■ L> I rifni'io "TTi - .. - ■*■>'■■->':'- Night at the Fair away to the south of the hill — the famous Egdon Heath before mentioned — and the twinkling lights of the little towniet shine out one by one like glowworms in the vale, the fun becomes more furious. Amid all the solitude of the vales which radiate from the base of Woodbury Hill, high above them is this thronged camp of ancient Briton and conquering Roman, seething with the free, frank, and bucolic merriment of thousands of Wessex folk. The booths and stalls, lit with naphtha flares, present a weird, uncanny picture ; whilst down the hillside slowly and cautiously creep lights, shaking on the road and disappearing to reappear like fire-flies, hung on the vehicles of quieter tolk who are wending their homeward way early. I'Vom the vale below, this immense hill, blue-grey in the oncoming gloom of night, lit with a canopy of yellow radiance, seems like some huge pagan altar ; ■I, i the hoarse murmur of the throng floats down to the listener in the meads like the distant roar of a sacrificing host. 255 CHAPTER XII SOME LESSER TOWNS AND VILLAGES OF THOMAS hardy's NOVELS No book upon the subject of Wessex could ^e Md e^. to approach completeness without some -ferenc hose' towns and villages which, many of them of lit < i„.portance in themselves, and some situated ,n count, other thanDor.ct, have yet gamed •"f^J ^j^" from the fact of their having been mac^.e the locale Mr Hardy's novels and tales. The term "Wessex" in his works conforms wit fair accuracy to its use historically, -d on occas.o transcends it, comprising m its area a P^l'^^^J^^^^^^^^ wall, and parts of ^evon in the west, of Somerset an Wis to the north-west and north, and a few tow and villages in Hampshire, Berkshire, and Oxfordshi, to the east and north-east of his native county. The larger towns of Dorset, and those m oth counties we have mentioned, nearly all of which ha^ been the scene of some novel or poem have alrea. been dealt w.th-Dorchestcr, the ^asterbridge of impressive but gloomy story. The Mayor of Cas< Me, Far from the MaJdtng Crowd, and other talc 256 i even ice to f little •unties I fame rale of s with ccasion Corn- set and towns >rdshire 1 other :h have already of that Caster- r tales ; I I :: \i Tin; ■'\V.-!lliii(li; W(M)I. MANOK HOI > r.V,-r ,V,>. tl.^ w.-nu ul her liDiii-yMKioii uith AfiKel Cl.ui- I :-:t -- ^f*? The Wessex Novels Weymouth, the Budmouth Regis of that fine and stirring romance of Napoleonic times, The Trumpet- Major, and the fantastic tale, The IVell-Rekved \ Bridport, the Port Bredy of the Wessex tale, Vellov:- Towmmen ; Wareham, the Anglebury of The Return of the Native and The Hand of Ethelheria ; Poole, the Havenpool of the story, To Please his IVif ; Wim- horne, the Warborne of T-Jco on a Tozier ; Corfe Castle, the Corvesgate Castle of The Hand of Ethelberta ; Sher- borne, the Sherton Abbas of Tess of the D'Urhervilles and of The IVoodlanders ; Shaftesbury, the Shaston (here Mr Hardy uses the true and ancient name of the place) of Tess of the D'Urhervilles and Jude the Obscure ; Bhindford, the Shotsford Forum oi Far from the Madding Crowd; and Winchester, associated with poor Tess ot the D'Urbervilles, and the sombre and impressive ending of that wonderful book, and the story, I^dy Mottesfont. In these towns Mr Hardy has found fittmg and singularly cfFective backgrounds for the action of his tragic and humorous stories. He never recklessly tears a character from out its native environment. In the wider Wessex of the smaller villages which lie hid in the heart of this fertile land, Mr Hardy has not only found opportunity for the exercise of his unrivalled powers of brilliant and picturesque descrip- tion, but it is also from them that he has drawn many of his most convincing and interesting characters. The small portion of the county of Somerset which has fallen within the confines of Mr Hardy's Wessex, by reason 257 17 I n ■«^-^JiH^^t 11^ « . We s sex of the excursions of sevcnil of his characters into it, is a beautiful stretch of country, aniul which are scattered picturesque cottages and tarn.houses, many of them substantially built of yellow stone. The countryside is rioted for its beautiful churches, and scarcely a village of any si/.e exists without its own venerable and interesting building. many of Mr Hardy's characters who happen to lie Somerset folk we can .almost catJi the softer accent than prevails with their immediate nei^rhbours over the border in Dorset. The "a" is less broad, whilst the "s" has been transmuted into "/." On the margin of the two counties one f^nds the form of speech still obtaining amongst the peasant and working classes which has been woven into several of Fielding's novels. Amongst the Somerset towns and villages which appear in the Wessex novels or tales, Yeovil, the Ivel of the novels and of the stories, The Tra^^edy of Tzvi Ambitiom and For Conscience Sake, is a town of som< importance. It possesses a fine church of the Perpen dicular period and is picturesquely situated upon th( hillside above the river Yeo, from which its name i derived. In the immediate neighbourhood are many histon seats of unusual interest,^ncluding Montacute, with it beautiful garden of terraced walks and magnificer hall, which have remained almost unaltered from th days of Queen Elizabeth ; whilst near Langport is tb estate which was bequeathed to the elder Pitt by a eccentric baronet named Sir William Pynsent, with fir 258 y-.:-* , IS 3. tcred them ■ysidf illagc and irdy's c can their The -nuted s one St the woven mi m I which e Ivell /" Tuo some 'erpen- on the ame is Historic «rith its nlficent om the t is the by an ith fine I' (llKHt *. HtHMf : A |\ I'll \l. l)Clll-l 1 IIAliM MOl-h J :0fk < *'.--^9^ -*.,;*.. "s* ■• '* A - >;7V ■'?'^f'fT».\'-* »-- -~'i7' ■-,^ ••*'■' :-jrs^i. -jt-y-*' "-=*.: ..v^fjT' ~' .J*-'-;i-. ■■jV-^'Sr .:•: ' tSi i' Frr. .It and Melbury Park views northward to Bridgewater and southward over successive ranges of low hills. Brimton, the home of Sir Spencer Ponsonby Fane, is of various dates, a quaint Inigo Jones garden-front contrasting with a chantry house built before the reign oi' Henry VII. From Langport ^rth-eastwards to Frome lies a beautiful stretch of country, with the Mendip Hills sending their eastward spurs within ten miles or so of the latter town, busy with its cloth manufactures and standing on a steep slope, with its main streets climbing the hill. The church is rather florid in parts, and it was not only restored by the well-known Ritualistic vicar, the Rev. \V. J. E. Bennett, but possesses a remarkable Calvary also set up by him. Hard by Yeovil is Melbury Park, the principal scene of the short story, The First Countess of H'^essex, therein disguised by Mr Hardy as King's Hintock ; near by the Falls Park of that story is the exquisitely situated ruin of Nunney Castle, once besieged by Fairfax himself. Under High Stoy lies the Little Hintock of The IVoodlanders^ which Mr Hardy so tersely but adequately describes as " one of those sequestered spots outside the gate of the world where may usually be found more meditation than action, and more listlessness than meditation." This litde village lies amongst loft)' hills and deep hollows, which, though adding to its pictur- esqueness, serve to shut it in from the outside world. Of other villages which have assumed importance from the fact of their being the locale of Mr Hardy's 259 Wessex stories there are quite a number southward from Yeov '. Many of 'them, as can well be understood, are in the immediate neighbourhood ot Dorchester. The little village of Puddletown, with its mterest.ng church, Jacobean gallery, and fine Norman font, ,s he Weatherbury of F.r fro. ,he AUda.,^^ M and the heroine Bathsheba's farm ,s Lower Waterston, which Mr Hardy for the purpose of the story trans- planted a short d.stance. His descript.on of th>s once manor, now farm house, which was so v,y,d and t ue when he wrote the story, is apphcable to ,t st.lK It " a hoary building of the Jacobean stage of Classical Renaissance, as regards its architecture, and of a propor- tion which tells at a glance that, ^V^^ -^-■"^'>J^, case, it has once been the manorial hall on a small estate round it. , . , Not far from Puddletown is Milton Abbas wh.cf Mr Hardy calls Middleton Abbey in The H oodlanucrs with Milton Park, containing that magnificent surviva of ancient times, the abbey church, close alongside th n^ansion which was built :or Lord Dorchester m lyj by Sir William Chambers, who was also the architec of Somerset House. Southward lies an old house, at Milborne . Andrew's, nowadays set in a waste of sparsely timbere nark, associated with that strange, elusive characte Lady Constantine, which Mr Hardy created for h heroine in T^'o on a Tozvcr-.n indiscreet and subt emotional woman who is at first merely xsthet.cal interested in the beauty of the astronomical you 260 i IMDlPl.KIDW S 1 W.Mtherbury in /=•■'■■ ■•■•''•■ !/• //.•>,',■'■'■.• .' 71: '^' irv^--«. ■ .?• H Welland House whom she accidentally found in possession of the tower on her estate. The house and tower, where so much of Udy Constantine's and Swithin St Cleeve's courting was done, arc, as most people know, a blend of the mansion and tower situated near Charborough with the house here, and column standing on a fir-shrouded hilltop near at hand. But although Mr Hardy has amalga- mated the two places in the manne. we have stated, his description of the one standing amid the trees at Milborne St Andrew's, or, as he has renamed the place, Millpond St Jude's, is wonderfully true to facts. Mr Hardy writes: "The gloom and solitude which prevailed round the base were remarkable ; . . . . some boughs and twigs rubbed the pillars' side or occasion- ally clicked in touching each other. The sob of the environing trees was here expressly manifest. Below the levelof their summits the masonry was lichen- stained and mildewed, for the sun never pierced the moaning cloud of blue-black vegetation." It is around this tower that Mr Hardy has woven one of his m.ost romantic stories, and the old Welland House, with ,ts pretty garden and ancient overthrown gateways at the entrance to the former park, is well worth a visit from those who love the picturesque. Not far from this secluded spot is what may truly be called " the Land of Tess," for although Mr Hardy made poor, tragic Tess's wanderings extend as tar north-west as Salisbury Plain, and north-east as far as the New Forest and Winchester, her life's story, the scenes of it, and their enactment, in the greater part 261 V y:^: ^3"-=sfl;" Wi?l Wessex lie within comparatively narrow confines. The story commences in the pretty little village of Marnhull, named by Mr Hardy Marlott, which lie;; but a few miles south-west of Shaftesbury, and from whence Tess journeys to Pentridg:e, a quaint little village which Mr Hardy names Trantridge, to take service with the mother of her eventual seducer and evil genius, Alick D'Urberville. The scenes of the story then shift in turn to the beautiful Blackmore Vale and the vale of " the great dairies," where Tess takes service at Talbothays with dairyman Crick, meeting whilst living there Angel Clare, the gentleman-dairyman, who from thence onwards becomes the central figure in Tess's little drama. From Talbothays, which has been by some writers identified with a farm at Moreton, although actually compounded of at least two places, as is so frequently the custom of Mr Hardy, Tess and Angel Clare, who married her, come to Wool, the Wellbridge of the story ; and in the ancient manor-house set amid pasture land, and almost with the water of the PVome lapping against its walls, their all too brief honeymoon, shattered^by Tess's confession of her early misfortune, is spent. It is here too that the powerful scene is enacted when Angel Clare carries Tess across the fields at dead of night and places her In the ancient stone coffin of one of Bindons abbots in the grounds of the old Cistercian abbey across the river, close to the ancient mill. Wool itself, though picturesque, and through the 262 ' *\^' ' •.r- /-^ MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART ANSI a"tl ISO TEST CHART No 7 1.0 I.I 28 I- : , . Ill 2.2 I 2.0 III 1.8 1.25 iiiii 1.4 1.6 -£ 'IPPLIED IIVl/IGE '^'^'T'- ll Wool summer often resorted to by artists, is naught but a small straggling village set a few yards away from the railway, and of little interest save that with which Mr Hardy has invested it by making it the locale ot some of the finest scenes in his great novel. In the old manor house, gloomy with its mouldy greatness, standing just over the ancient Elizabethan bridge spanning the river, Mr Hardy found a fit and at the same time singularly appropriate place for the mutual confessions of Angel Clare and his wife. Those who have passed within its ancient doors seem to breathe the atmosphere of the story, and to realise with greater vividness the weakness of the man's character, his one- sided logic, and the piteous trust and weakness of the woman. It is easy to feel Tess's loneliness as Clare (in the story), closing the door softly behind him, goes out into the blackness of the night, well matching in its sinister gloom his own thoughts. When Tess's brief romance of the honeymoon is ended, she returns home once more to Marlott, and then after a time renews her struggle for existence, with Angel Clare away in Brazil, by field work on a farm at Flintcomb Ash (Nettlecombe Tout), where she remains till the re-appearance of her tempter, Alick D'Urberville, and the death of her father. Then the scene of the sf-ory once more shifts to one of those strange half-dead townlcts, so many of which Mr Hardy has immortalised in his novels, Bere Regis, or, as he calls it, Kingsberc, where lay the " skeletons " of those n'Urbervilles whose departed glories had haii 263 II ft i Wessex so prejudicial an influence on the Durbeyfleld family in general. The halKicad village of Kingsbere nestles beneath Woodbury Hill, on which is annually held the fair we have already described. From Kingsbere the scene shifts with great rapidity to Sandbourne, by which name Mr Hardy has disguised Bournemouth; and it is at this tas^^^onable watering- place that the great tragedy of the whole book is worked out : Alick D'Urberville's death at the hands of Tess, which tragic end few readers can have deplored. After which Angel Clare and his erring wife flee out of the town, and, eluding justice for some time are eventually " taken " amid the " immense stones of the sacrificial temple of past ages " on Salisbury Plain. It is to Winchester that Mr Hardy takes Tess for the last sad scene of her tragic life ; and it is from the top of the great western hill behind the upward slope of the High Street that "Liza Lu, Tess's sister, and Angel Clare watch for the signal upon iie ugly flat- topped octagonal tower, upon the cornice of which a tall flag-staff was erected. With noticeable restraint, Mr Hardy hastens over this scene in W^inchester ; but hasten though he may, his artistry is such that r- thing which can make for impressiveness or solemnity is omitted. He says : " Upon the cornice of the tower there was a tall staff. Their ('Liza Lu's and Angel Clare's) eyes were riveted on it. A few minutes after the hour had struck some- thing moved slowly up the staff and extended itself upon the breeze. It was a black flag. 264 ■rr. »1 \^'j-- 1'- ■■'''^:-^:^''':ri^^-^^'^^-F%y:^- he ■ \\Vlil..-l(lK'- "I /'■ ' ■■/ '*'■ " ' >■-'■'-'"•■! I ! :;*;-'^^'.t:'¥"^i*'£I>^l:'^ .'"-■' ^ '■:\:&/::*:'''^:''^''^^ 'jCv; m N t Portland "The two speechless gu/.ers bent themselves down to the earth, as if in prayer The flag continued to wave silently. "Justice was done, and the President oi the Immortals (in ^:schylean phrase) had ended his sport with Tess." So ends what many critics, as well as numbers ot other readers, contend is Mr Hardy's mi^^num opus. To the south ot" Weymouth lies the strange penin- sula which Mr Hardy refers to in his elusive and fantastical but interesting story, T/ie tVell-Beloved,zs the " Isle of Slingers " or the " Gibraltar of Wessex." By these names is known to the lovers of Mr Hardy's works the jutting piece of rocky coast marked on the map as Portland. At one time it was probably an island, and indeed is still known as such, although it is now connected indisseverably with the coast by the famous Chesil Beach. Mr Hardy's own description ot it as seen from a distance is one which is singularly Hardyesque, just as it is equally singularly vivid and appropriate. He says it " stretches out like the head of a bird into the English Channel " ; and he goes on to tell us, in describing the town of Portland, how " the towering rock, the houses above houses, one man's doorstep rising above his neighbour's chimney, the gardens hung up by one edge to the sky, the vegetables on apparently almost vertical planes, the unity of the whole island as a solid and single block of limestone four miles long," form an impressive and unique picture. 265 Wcsscx The natives of this strange excrescence on the Dorset coast, which has been idcntifietl with the ancient V'intlilia of Roman days, are still a peculiar people, with a somewhat pronounced dislike to " Kimberlins " or foreigners. As in other stories, Portland in the pages of The li^ell-Heloved becomes a clear and interesting district, " for centuries im- memorial the home of a curious and almost distinctive people, cherishing strange beliefs and singular customs." And one of the curious customs, which at any rate some forty years ago survived in the island, forms one of the most important and dramatic incidents of the fantastic story. Into this tale of wayward and successive loves Mr Hardy has put some of his most etching-like and beautiful descriptions, and readers are able to forgive much of the slightncss of the tale for the sake of the pictures of atmospheric effects and of scenery which accompany it. There are scenes of The Well-Beloved also placed in Budmouth Regis and in London ; but it is the I'ortland setting, with its clear-cut descriptive passages, which makes the story of interest in spite of its slightncss. Cranborne, which is ktiown in Tess of the D' Urbervilles as Chaseborough, with its wonderful Chase, is one of those small, half-forgotten towns of which there are so many in Wessex. The manor house, over the doorway of which are the figures of Justice and Mercy, was once used as a court, where the hardy and often desperate poachers of the Chase used to appear on trial. The wonderful and romantic woodland known as Cranborne 266 t' :l ■I'^fS r^ \ I.I IWOKIII <<>N> Til'- I.llllMr.lil I ■ ^•■ 11 /■ ■' " '" •''■■ 1/ ■'./.' •■'■<• ' '-;''' /.;/. /.iri/f /r 111 . Ill ■'• ^''' * "Vi r^fiife^-2^^ Lulworth Cove Chase, though much less in extent than in former times, still contains some magnificent oaks and yews, for which it has always been renowned in forestry ; and at Rush more lived the late General Pitt-Rivers, the indefatigable excavator of British and Roman remains in south-western Wilts. Lulworth Cove, under the thin liisguise of Lulstead Cove, situated on the coast some few miles east ot Weymouth, is a spot of singular beauty, quietude, and charm, with the old castle, the seat of the Weld family, standing some mile or so inland from the exquisite little cove itself. At Lulworth are laid several of the scenes in Mr Hardy's first-published novel, Desperate Remedies^ and in the same novel appears the little village of Tolpuddle, under the thin disguise of Tolchurch. In the fine story. Under the Greenzcood Tree, which is notable for some of the finest of all Mr Hardy's descriptive writing, as well as for a singularly full gallery of rustic portraits, appear the little villages of Upper and Lower Melstock, under which name Mr Hardy has disguised Stinsford, which is quite close to his home at Dorchester. Of all Mr Hardy's stories, few contain so excellent a range of rustic characters or are so rich in rustic and truly Dorset humour. Stinsford lies sequestered, as many another village selected by Mr Hardy for the scene of his stories. But from its native picturesqueness it is well wort^ while for the traveller in Wessex to turn down the by-lane off the main road from Dorchester to visit the pictur- 267 i W^n^< ■ \t :,■■' %'>ifs;.r 1*^^.1'^ 1 Sutton Poyntz (Budmouth Regis) itself. One of the most picturesque villages of southern Dorset, Sutton Poynt/. is nowadays a favourite resort of artists, and in selecting this retired spot for the theatre of his stirring romance Mr Hardy showed that unerring sense of contrast which, without violence of diction or of action, has so often proved such a wonderful counterfoil to the more stirring of the incidents in his stories. Sutton Poynt/ is much what it was when the possible invasion of Bonaparte was stirring the south of England from end to end, and causing old wives children, yeomen, and rustics sleepless nights and harassing days. The present mill is not that of Miller Loveday and his lodgers, for Mr Hardy transported, as has often been his custom, Upwey Mill from its actual site to Sutton Poyntz, a spot of greater pictur- esqueness or effectiveness. In only one of Mr Hardy's long stones has he travelled outs.de Wessex in its widest sense, and placed his scenes upon the Continent. And in this story, .-i Uodtcean, the opening scenes of which are laid at Stancy Castle (vaguely, Dunster), and then transferred to other Continental resorts, one is forced to the conclusion that Mr Hardy has travelled not altogether successfully outside the land he has made so indisputably his own. We have left till last a mention of the places in which are laid the scenes of Mr Hardy's last-published story, Jude the Obscure. Around this novel, in which people have been wrongly led to trace scraps of personal history, has raged even more controversy than 269 Wessex tormcrly was provoked by Tvss of the D' Urbervilles. The novel, it must be admitted, is one of almost un- relieved yloom ; anil powerful and interesting though it iiiuioubtedly is, it has never, we believe, been a favourite with the general public. The opening scenes of Jiuie the Obscure^ which has been described as a story of " mixed loves and thwarted ambitions," are laid in the pretty little village of l-'awley Magna, which Mr Hardy calls Mary- green, resting, as he himself says, " in the lap of an upland adjoining the undulating North Wessex df)wns." I'Vom this secluded village, " as old-fashioneil as it was small," unhappy jude proceeded to Christminster (Oxford) with the ambition of obtaining a good education. From thence the scene of the story is transferred to Melchester (Salisbury), where Jude goes with the intention of taking Holy Orders. Here it is that his chance of such a consummation of his wishes is wrecked by philandering with Sue Bridehead. The other scenes of this novel are laid in Shaftesbury (Shaston), where still stands the house. Old Grove's Place, with its Georgian panelling, from the window of which Sue jumped. Of this house, which stands just beyond Bimport, Sue said : " It is so antique and dismal that it depresses me dreadfully ; such houses are very well to visit but not to live in. I feel crushed into the earth by the weight of so many previous lives there spent." And it is the note of despair similar to that experienced by Sue at Old Grove's Place that is the predominant one of this strange and fascinating though gloomy book. 270 r> .1 lirKION RKAI.>1(HK. l)llH^l:l .1,^ -_j_^-rj_:~ - 1 Thomas Hardy's Genius of the other spots mentioned casually by Mr Hardy in his collections of short stories, l^esst-x Tales and .7 Croup of Noble Dames, it is impossible to ^peak. Many of them have already been referred to in the foregoing pages, whilst others lie scattered as secluded hamlets or mere landmarks throughout the length and breadth of the land which he has made his own. Mr Hardy's place in the very tVont rank of modern English authors was long ago accorded him by the critical and the intelligent reader. It is no small satisfaction to those who care most for what is best in English literature of the h'gher and least meretricious type to know that the circle of his admirers is an ever-widening one, ami that, in a word, he has at last "come to his own." Of the debt which future historians and students, for whom local customs, habits, and types of rustic character and the like are a matter of interest, owe him, those who know Wesscx well can best speak. In his books he has touched in with the unerring pen of a master portraits of country folk fast becoming extinct, and pictures of rural scenes which unhappily are yearly being altered by the advance of civilisation. But still happily many stretches of fair country within the confines of Wesscx are unscarred and unspoiled by the energy or recklessness of moderns ; and those who seek to know what rural England was fifty years ago, and what lovely English scenery may still be, can yet do so by a visit to " fayre Wessex." THE END f j ft INDEX "(1) M i I Abboisbury, 19, 90 Adams, I'a-.son, 127 /lahflimr, r.ishop, 225 ytlthclwold, Uishop, 222 1 ytthelwult", 10, 221 Aiiian's mission, 9 Aldhflm. St, 9, 105 I Altord, (iregorv, 31 Alfred the Great, 10. 64, 120, 221, 226 AlfwoUl, llishop of Sherborne, 121 Allen, ri\er, 42 Alphege, Archbishop, 215 Althstanus, U.shop of Sherborne, 10 Alwyn, IVishop of Winchester, 224 Ambresb'jry, 192 Amelia, Princess, 210 Amesbury, 142 Anglebury, 257 Anjou, Queen Mar^raret ot, 77 Anketil. Colonel, 198 Ann of Denmark, 128 Anne, Queen, 210 Anseim, Archbishop, 1 2b Anstev, author of The New Bath GuuiCy 2 1 8 Antoninus, 169 •' Appletree Island,' 142 Aqux Soils, 204 Arthur, Kin^. 206 Arundel, Earl of, 78 Arundel, Sir John, 172 Asser, Bishop of Sherborne, lob Athelm, Bishoji, 155 Athelstan, King, 64, 73i 221 Aust Passage, 207 . Austen, Jane, and Lyme Kegi=, 102,215 Avallonia, Insula, 142 Avalon, 142 Avill, v.ile of the, 140 Avon, river, 130, 202 Axminster, 32, 207 Bacon, Francis, 217, 234 Hadburv Rings, 43- 206 liagot, liishop, 1 59 Bankes, Lady (of Corfe C astle), 5 \ Bankes, Sir John, 194 \ Barnes, Kev. William, Dorset ! poet, 119, 182, 241 Bath, 1 56, 203 Ba-iianceaster. 207 Beauchamp, Margaret, 46 Beaufort, Cardinal, 323, 225 Beaufort, John, Duke of Soinerse 46 Becket, Thomas a, 18 Beckford, William, 219 Bedford, Earl of, 27, 116 Beere, Abbot, 1 50 Belesme, Robert de, imprison at Warehani, 65 Bennett, Rev. W. J.E.. of 1-ron -59 Beohrtric, King of \Nessex, 10 Bere Heath, 232 27: Ind ex Here Regis, 49, 246 lierkcley, Lord, 53 liimport, 270 1 llindon Abbey, 19, 262 | Bindon Hill, 8 liingham, Colonel, 198 Hingham. Kev. C. \V., 187 Birde, I'rior of Hath Abbey, 213 Ulackniore \'alc, 118, 262 liladud, legends of, 203 lilakc, Lieutenant-Colonel, and the siege of Lyme, 98, 141 lilandford, 27, 129, 257 Blandford Races, 131 Blois, Bishop Henry de, 224, 228 " Bloody Assize," 37, (75 -'77 Bonaparte, threatened invasion by, 39, 88, 269 Bond, Dennis, M.I', for Wey- mouth, 82 Bourncinouth, 190, 264 Bow and Arrow Castle, Portland, 14 Bradenstoke, 19 Bradford, Abbot, 109 Brampton, the historian, 120 branksea Island, 19& Branksome Chine and the smugglers, 60 Bravel, Mr, and the "Clubmen," 29 Brian de Insu'a, 134 Hridgewater, 32 Bridport, 29, 90 Brimton, 259 Bryanston I'ark, Blandford, 134 Bubwitn, Bishop of Wells, 162, 165 Buddell, river, 97 loudmouth Regis, 257, 266, 269 Burgess, I)r Cornelius, 160 Hurnell, Bishop, 160, 209 Burney, Miss, 215 Butler, Bishop, 219 C crnarvon. Earl of, 27, 81, 174 C;er Ballador, 120 Calleva (Silchcster), 220 Canute. 13, 65, r22, Carew, Sir John, 77 Carr, Robert, Earl 115 Cassivelaunus, 120 127, 221, 224 of .Somer tt. Castle Boterel, 268 Ceawlin, 20(1 Cenwalh, 222 Cerdric, 7 Cerne, .Abliey of, 13, 19 (erne .Abbas, 20 Channing, Mary, execution of, 186 Chapman, the historian, 212 Chapman, Peter, and Bath Abbey, 216 Charborough, 261 Charles II., adventures of, 29, 57, 93, 96, 210, 21 1, 226 Charles \' , 75 Charles X., 6r Charmouth Roads, 29 Chaseborough, 266 Chideock, 95, 181 Chippenham, 12 Christminster, 270 Chubb, Matthew, and the burning of Dorchester, 172 Chubb's, Matthew, almshouses, Dorchester, 184 Cirencester, Richard of, 169 Clarendon, Lord, 174 Clavinium (Jordan Hill), 5 Clubinen (battle of Haniildon Hill!, 20 Cobb, Lyme Regis, 30, 97 CoeurdeLion, Rifhard, I 56, 2o<) Coker, Edward fa liridporl tragedy). 94 Colbrand the Dane, 221 i Constable, John Miles, execution I of, 82 i Cooper, Sir .Anthony Ashley, 67, i 197 i Corfe Castle. 14, 15 ' Corfe Castle, siege of, 194-2CXD 18 273 i ' • . • . iii ' ' Index I; if m^i Crai.borne, 266 Cnmbnmc ClKist. ^,4. '-9. =j2 Crteih li^irrow, 190 Criiinucll -It IJoriliester, 173 Cromwell, Thomas, and the dis- solution of monasteries, 21, 23 Cuthbcrga and \Vimborn>- Min- ster, 9, 43 Cynric the Saxon, 7 D'Air.orie, RoK", Constable of Corfc, 134 Uamorv Co n. 134 Defoo, 'l)i;: . ■l,and the Monmouth Rebellion, 31 Diamond, John, the smu;4Kler, 59 Digbv, Lady Ann. and the siege of Sherborne, I if) Digby, Lord, 110 Digby, Sir George, iif> Dives, Sir Lewis, 1 17 Doddingtoii, George and burv Manor House, 134 Doddington, Geovgc Bubb, Dorchester, 2, 3, 4, 27. 7- 256 Dorchesttr, Lord, and Milton Abbev, 260 , „ , , Dore, Colonel, and the Duke ot Monmouth, 34 Dunstan, Archbishop, 121 207 Ounster, 136 Dunster Castle. 140 Dunster Church, 137, 13° Durnovaria ( Dorchester;, 2, Durotriges, the, 169. '^7 Kast- '34 :, •('7> '45. 168 Eadulph, King. 224 Ealhstan and the Danes, 106 Earlc, Sir Walter, and Corfe Ca-tle, 195 East Stower, 126 Eastburv Manor House, 134 Edgar, Kiiik, at liath, 207 Edington, Battle ot. 12 Edingion, Bishop, 223 Edmund Ironside, 13, 127. 224. Edred, King, 224 Edward the Confessor, 74, 92. 128,155 Edward the Elder, 43, 121, 155, 221 EdNvard the Martyr, 64, 69, 121, 157. i*'!9 , Edward 1., 51,66,97. 101,209,226 Edward 11., 19 3 Edward IIL, 5!, 74.97. '94, 209, 228 Eduaul IV., 20 Edward VL, III. '94 Edw.irdstow, ancient Shaftesbury, 121 Edwin, the tragic end of, 73 E^lwv, King, 145 Egbert, King, 221, 224 Egdon Heath, 49, 2]2 Eleanor, Queen, 193, 209 Eleanor of Castile, 74 Eleutherius, I'ope, 144 Elgiva and Shatlesljury, 120 Eh/abeth. Queen. 25, 194, 209, 216 Elphere, Earl of Mercia. 121 Emma. Queen, 13, 74, 224 Essex, Earl of, 26, 99, 133, 175 Ethelbald at Wimborne, 43 Ethelred at Shaftesbury, 13, 45. 121 Ethelred the Unready, 106 Ettrick, Anthony, of Wimborne, 36. 46 Ei'f/inu, descriptions ot life at Bath in, 215 Exchequer Rolls, 15 Exeter, Gertrude, Marchioness of, 46 Exmoor, 141 Fairfax, Geiicial, 27, 117, 198. 259 Falls Bark, 259 Farraiit, Amy or Anna, the betrayer of Monmouth. 35 274 Index Kawley Magna, 270 FevcTsham, Lord. 32 Kifldm^r, the home f)f, 126, 258 Finch, Speaker, 181 Flietwood, Colonel, 28, 125 Flintcomb Ash (N'ettleconilje Tout), 263 Ford, 19 F'ordington, 178 Fosse way, 4, 169, 207 Fox, Bishop, 223, 224, 22; Frampton, Roman remains at, 3 Frederick, Prince of Wales, 210 Frith, Archbishop, 1 13 F"rome, 63, 1 68, 2 59 Fuller, 121, 156, 212 Gainsborough, Thomas, 219 Gallor, Walter, and the burning of Sherborne, 109 Gardiner, Hishop, 225 Gamier, Bishop, 223 Gates, Sir John, and Wells, 160 Geoffrey de Talebot at Bath. 208 George III., 3,83, I77, 2>3 George Inn, the, Bridport, and Charles II., 96 "Gibraltar of Wessex," 265 Giflford, Sir Osbert, the story of, 122 Gildon, Charles, birthplace of, 129 Gillingham, 34. 126, 127. 129 Glastonbury, 20, 121, 141 Glastonbury Thorn, 151 Gloucester, Robert, Duke of, 14, 65 Godfrey, Richard, 32 Goring, General, 175 Grabhurst Hill. 136 "Green Hill" Fair, 247 ■ Grey, Laiiy Jane, 160 Grey, Lord, 34, 93 Guinevere, burial-place of, 142 Gulliver, the famous smuggler, 60 Gunthorne, Dtan, 161 Guthruii, 64 Guy, Earl of Warwick, 221 Hambledon Hill, b-'tl ■ of, 125 Hamildon Hill, 27 Hamworthy, 63 Hardy, Thomas, the novelist of Wessex, 95, 1 78, 1 79, 1 80, 24'). 256 Harewell, Bishop. 163 Harington. Sir J., 2Ck;, 216 Harok', 155 Harold II., 13 Hatton, Sir Christopher, 194 Havenpool, 237 Hawkhurst, gang of smuggler>, 59 , . Heddlestone, Friar, and James II., 217 Henr>- I.. 65, 107, 229 Henry II., 146, 192 Henry III., 50,92, 118, 193, 22';. 249 Henry IV., 75, 97 Henry VI., 76, 97, 229 Henrv VII., 51,77. '53. "62 Henry VIII.,21, 78, in, 128,211 Henry, Prince, and Sherborne, 116 Herman, Bishop of Sherborne. 106 Hertford, Marquis of, 27, 55, 1 16, 141 Hill, Richard, of Weymouth, 75 Hintock, Little, 259 Holies. Denzil, 181 Hollyday, Richard, and the Duke of Monmouth, 34 Holt Lodge, 34 Honiton, 31 Hood, Tom, 239 Horn, Bishop of Winchester, 226 Hunton, Prior, 225 Hutchins, Rev. John, the his- torian of Dorset, 69 Hwiccia, 207 Ibelnium, ancient Blandford, Icknield Street, 169 Icknicld Way, 4 30 275 Index of Hath and Uchcstcr, 4, 207 Ina, Kinn <>\ Wi-ssex, 43, 105, 145. '55 Inchiquin, l.ord, ;it Dorchester, 5fi< '75 Insula Avallonia, 142 Isle of I'urbeck, 8 " Isle of SlinKCrs,'' 26; Ivel, River, 105 Iwerne Minster, Blandiortl. 134 James I., 115 James II., 37. 217 James, Duke of \ ork, 210 Jeffrevs, Jud-e, and the " Bloody Assize," 33, 94. 'oo. '75. 2'°- 230 Joteline, liishop Wells, 1 56, 2CXJ John, King, 65. 128, 171, 193. 2-*^. 247 Jolliffe, Captain I'eter, ot Poole, 57 Jordan Hill and the Roman occupation, 5 Joseph of Anmathea and Glaston- bury, 144 Ken, Prebendary, 226 Kent, Earl of, 330 Kenulph, King, 224 Kevnsham, 203 King, Bishop Oliver, 215, 217 Kingsbereand Tcss of the IfUr- berviltes, 246 Kinson, 60 Knight, Bishop ot Wells, 164 Kynegile, King, 224 Kynewulf, 97 Lacy, Bishop de, of Winchester, 225 Landor, Walter Savage, and Bath, 203 Langport, 73. 258, 259 Langton, Archbishop, 226 Lansdowne, battle of, 210 Laud, Archbishop, 182 Leland, the historian, 92, ' Leyland, the historian. 143, 207, 211 Lightfoot s, I'eter, Orrery, Limbry and Charles II., 2 Lin';oln, Robert of, 65 Lisle, Dame .Mice, 230 Longfleet, 63 Lower Waterston, 260 LuKvorth Cove, 267 Lumley, Lord, 34 Luttrell .Arms, Dunster, i Lyme Regis. 23. 24, 29, 3 Lync'imb Fair, 209 Lytchett Heath, 49, 63 187 lam 01 Maiden Ca. Malmesbur 128, 144 Margaret ol Anjou, 20, 1 .Margaret of France, 128 Marnhull, the Marlott o the DUrbennlles, 262 Marygreen, 270 Matilda, 208 Maumbury Rings, 185 Maurice, Prince, 26, 56 174, 195 Melbury Park, 259 Melbury St Osborne, 25' Melchester, 270 Melcombe Regis, 78 Mellst(Kk, Lower, 267 Mellstock, Upper, 267 Mendip Hills, 153, 259 Middletop. Abbey, 260 Milborne St Andrew's, ; Millpond St Jude's, 261 Milton, 74 Milton Abbas, 19, 260 Milton Park, 260 Minerva, temple of, at li Mitford, Miss, and Lyi 102 Mohun, Sir William de, Monmouth, Duke of, ; 100, 54 276 I an. 92, 07, ' ' ' torian, 75, 7^, Orrery, 47 ^s 11,29 ,65 260 inster, 139 !4., 29, 30, 96 9 9,63 187 lam 01, 19, 105. u, 20, 128 ce, 128 irlott of '/)-iS of Us, lb2 ., >85 26, 56, 81, 98, 19 irne, 259 , 7» -, 267 -, 267 3, 259 , 260 Irew's, 260 ;'s, 261 J, 260 of, at Bath. 204 nd Lyme Re^ib, iam de, 137, 138 ic of, 30, 57, 93, Index Monmouth, Geoffrey of, 120, 204 Montacute House, 258 Montat,'u, HIbhop, and Bath .Xbtjey, 2r6 Moreton, 262 Morlev, Bishop of Winchester, 228' Morton, John, Archbishop of Canterbur), 20 .Viotcombe, 126 .Mowbray, Robert de, and the burning of Bath, 208 Muchelney, 20 .Napoleon, 39, 88, 177, 269 Napper, Sir Gerard, 185 Napper, Sir Robert, 184 Nash, Beau, and the making of Bath, 212, 213, 214 Nelson, Robert, 219 Nettlecombe Tout, 263 .Nevil, Robert, Bishop of Salis- bury, 108 New Forest, 34, 261 Nino, Pero, the Spanish pirate's, attack on I'oole, 54, 55 Northanger Abbey and Bath society, 215 Oak, Gabriel, and Far jrom the Madding Crowd, 91 OfTa, King ot Mcrcia, 207, 215 "Old Harding," the i,'lass- maker of Blandford, 132 Old Grove's Place, Shaftesbury, 270 Old Sarum, 4 Oliver. Rev., Fielding's " Parson Truliiber," 126 Osmund and the curse of Sher- borne, 115 Osric, King, 207, 215 Oswald, 207 Parker's, J. H., restorations at Wells, i6j Parkstone, 49, 190 bur 53. 54- :i8 of. Parr, Catherine, 128 Payn, Harry, the l'o()l( caneer, 53 ; exploits ot, 55 I'enn, William, 127, 164 Pcntridgc, 262 Pepys, quotations from, 212, Philip, King of Castile, 77 Philip of Spain, 24 Pikes, William, martyrdom 171 Pilchard, Thomas, martyrdom of, '7' Piran Round, an early British earthwork, 186 Pitman, Lieutenant-Colonel, the betrayer of Corfe Castle, 1 98 Pitt, Wilham, 219, 258 Pitt- Rivers, (ieneral. the anti- quarian of Rushmore, 267 Plague, the, 19, 51 Plymouth, 24 Pole, Reginald. Cardinal, and Wimbornc, 44 Pomfret, Peter of, the hermit's prophecv 66 Poole, 49, 257 Poole Harbour, i Pope, Alexander, and Sherborne Castle, 118 "Port Bredy," 95, 257 Portisham, 90 Portland, 24, 72, 265 Portman, Sir William, and the Duke of Monmouth, 34 Poundbury, ancient camp at, 3, 186 Preston and John Wesley, 38 Prior, the poet, at Wimborne, 48 Ptolemy, 169, 187 Puddletown, 260, 268 Purbeck, Isle of, 8, 197 Purbcck Forest, 190 Purbeck Hills, 49, 72, Purson, the pirate, 79 189 Quantock Hills, I4t 277 Index RalciKli, ^ir Wiiltcr, and Sher- borne, 1 14 Rampishani, I'cter tl'-, loy Ranipisliani, Kohcrt de, 1 : 1 Richard of Cirencester, the his- torian, l6y Richmond's, Karl of, intended in- vasion, 51 Richmond, MarKaret, Countess of. foundress of Wimborne ("irainniar S( hool, 48 Ringwood, the Duke of Mon- mouth at, 3'') Robert, liishop of liath and Wells. 156 Rochester, the Earl of, and the Duke of Monmouth, 36 Rodber, T., and the Weymouth Assembly Rooms. 85 Roger, Bishop, tomb of, 1 1 1 Roger of Caen and Sherborne, 107 Royal visits to Hath, 31 1 Ru'fus, King, 224 Rushmore, 267 St Alban's Head, 6 St Aldhelm, MS St Hernard, 21 St Birinus, 222 St Giles' Hill Fair, Winchester, 221 St Patrick at Glastonbury, 114 St I'aulinus and St Joseph's shrine, Glastonbury, 145 St Swithin, patron saint of Win- chester, 222 Salisburv, 270 Salisbury Plain, 191,261 Salmon, Patrick, Catholic martyr. 172 Salopia. Bishop Ralph de, 163 Savaric, Bishop, 156, 209 Sandsfoot Castle, 78 Scott, Sir Gilbert, 216, 220 Sedgemoor, battle of, 32 Seely, Colonel, and the siege of Lyme Regis, 98, 99 -57 R: Selwood, Abbot, and Glast 'I" Seymour, Jane, and Gilli 128 Shaftesbury. 27. 34, 1 '8, 1 270 Sharpham, 147 Shaston, 257, 270 Shepton Mallet, 32 •Sherborne, 9, 19, 104, Sherton Abbas, 257 Shotsford Forum, 257 Shrewsbury. Bishop 159, 162 Sigferth, King, 46 Silkstede, Prior, and Wii 223, 225 "Slingers, Isle of,' 265 Somerset, Duke of. 114, 1 160, 194 Somerset, Earl of (Robe and Sherborne, 1 1 5 Sorbiodunum (Old Sarun Spanish Armada, 23, 80 Stephen, King, 14,65, 1 14 Stinsford, 267 Stoborough Heath, 189 Stone, William, and the W chained library, 47 Stour, river, 118, 127, I2q Strangeways, Sir Jol the flight of Charles capture of, at Sherborn ' Studland, 2 Studlund Bay, i Sutton Poyntz, 268 Swanage, 7 1 Sweyn, 3, 1 70, 187. 208 Swithun, Bishop of Wii struggle against the D Sydenham, Colonel, at t of Corfe, 1 96 Talbot, Lord, 26 Taunton, 20, 32 Temple family, 'jury," 135 the, an 278 i Index id Glastonhiin.-, ^(\ C.illingham, I, ii8, 119, 257. 04. isr 257 lop Ralph of. nd Winchester, if. 114, 116, 148, ■ (Robert Carr), "5 1 Sanim), 4, 220 23, 80 ,65, 114,208,221 h, 189 id the Wimborne 47 127, 129 ir John, and ;harles 11., 82 ; herborne, 1 17 8 7. 208 of Winchesters ;t the Danes, lo ncl, at the Siege the, and '' East- Temple of Apollo at Uath, 204 Tewkesbury, battle of. 20. 77 Thomson's, William, gallant ex- ploit, 57 Tolchurch, 267 Tolpuddle, 267 Torbay, landing of William of Orange at, 38 Torre, 137 Tournay, the bells of, 1 10 Tracy, Henry de, 140 Trantridge, 262 Trenchard, Sir Thomas, of Wolvcton House, 77 Trent Manor House, Charles H. at, 29, 82 Troy, Sergeant, 252 Troyte, Mr, and All Saints', Dorchester, 182 Trulliber, I'arson, 126 Upton House, 63 Upway, 72, 90, 26<9 Venner, Colonel, and the Mon- mouth Rebellion, 94 Venta Helgarum, 220 Vergil, Polydore, the historian, 162 Via Iceniana (Icknield Way), 4, 73- '69 Via Julia, 207 Villula, John de. Bishop, 155, 208, 216 Vindilia, 266 Vindogladia, 43 Walkelin, Bishop, the builder of Winchester, 222 W^aller, Sir William, at Bath, 210 ; at Blandford, 132 VVarbome, 257 r;ob Wareham, in .Saxon times, 64 ; plundered by the Danes, 64, 65 Wake, William, Royalist Rector of Wareham, 69 Wars of the Roses, ;o W^irwick, Earl of, at Poole, 56 Waterston, Lower, 260 Wayntletc, Bishop, 223, 225 W'eatherbury, 260, 268 Weld family, of Lulworth Castle. 267 Wellbridge .Manor House, of Tt-ss of the UUrbennlUs, 262 Wells. 153 Wells Cathedral, 1 54 Wesley, Charles, .it Bridport, 39 Wesle\, John, at Preston, 39 West .S tower, 127 Wetstor»;'s, John, almshouses, Dorchester, 184 Weymouth, 5, 20, 23, 38, 72, 257 Wherwell Abbey, Elfrida at, 192 White's, Sir Thomas, charity at Bath, 211 White Hart Forest, legend of, 118 Whiting, Abbot, 147, 160 W'llbertbrce, Bishop, 223 William Rufus, 14, 128, 208, 225 William the Conqueror, 221 William of Orange at Sherborne Castle, 117 William of Scotland, King, daughters of, prisoners at Corfe, 193 William of Wykeham, 226 Williams of Herringlon and Dorchester, 181 Wilmot, Lord, 30 Wilton Monastery, 122 Wimborne, 9, 19, 42, 257 Wina, Bishop, 224 Winchester, 7, 220, 257 Winchester College, 226 Winchester i'alace hall, 229 Wintanceastre, 220 Wirral, famous thorn of, 151 Wolsey, Cardinal, no, 160 Wolvesey Castle, 228 Wood, the architect of Bath, 212 279 I Index » : Wnodburv Hill Fair, :4^ 255 Woodlands Farm and the lap- tiire "f Monmouth, 36 Woodyates Inn and the Duke of Monmouth, 34 Wool, 135. -^2 u , ,, ( VVoolmaii, Dt-an, the builder of Wells Town Hall, 164 Wren, Sir Christopher, M.I', for Weymouth, 185 ; archilert of the I'alace, Wmchester, 22() lit Wulfrith, Abbess of Milton, Wulfsey III., lii^'hop, ic/i Wykeham, William of, 22i Wyvill, Bishop, and .She Castle, 1 14 Yeovil, 29, 258 York, Duchess of, 210 York, Duke of, 210 Young, Kev. William, ed Ainsworth's Dictionary, IKU HY NEIII. AMI CO.. ITI)., EDINHI'RGH. I * Milton, 121 3, ic/i of, j:3 d Shcrbome im, editor of onary, 127 RC.H. OXFORD ■■< (Christnunstert WANTAGE ■: (Alfredston) " "Fa. nierrnAotfA. ^Fh'Bl'KY es sex I GreMi 'APINU • ' ::'. KlNaS^RB (n'e/if Kef ,sj (JtoKe JkuvAiCU) HAM rsHUXE (H/ppcsr We s sex.) )v \v.y. . i.()M">s \v. OBI IIIMH II I II BIIL ^F^ — " ^ W E S 5 E X \l \r \i ( ' .Mi'WViM. ■ WKs-; \ IMS I i h |.\ U \l i I U 1 \ \h\l K |i| -( Kll:l |. l;\ I I l\ I. II' >l I \SI1 li 11 i^lll^ !• V\ \ \ C 11 M k 1 nSlHiN TAVMrOff^ (TaneborougA) Y^\ ■*•*•••■' ^ ': VT'^'''"^" _, BJUiKaTAPM-E. >■••"•. " \piS VOIVSHIIIFLB ( ]L,(Dweir We s sex) '''StAftms • oxroKD '■f (C/trittrruastfr) WANTACr . ■ (MfieJston) "••■ '■•■■., 'Fa WLtt itA on A SSHBl'KY ^H JLTSHEM.E Midi W\esse'xl ' "' 'y-.y. KiNas^imB('t>e^Kef.r) The Gresl J'l!atn.\ JH-SINfi-lVoHC (JtoKe JIoj-kHiUs) \ '■^. .....r''_''*-l, :.. 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