Chapter VIII (6)

We now followed the downward course of the River Cerne, and walking along a hard but narrow road soon reached the village of Charminster. The church here dated from the twelfth century, but the tower was only built early in the sixteenth century by Sir Thomas Trenchard of Wolfeton, whose monogram T.T. appeared on it as well as in several places in the church, where some very old monuments of the Trenchard family were also to be seen. Wolfeton House was associated with a very curious incident, which materially affected the fortunes of one of England's greatest ducal families. In 1506 the Archduke Philip of Austria and Joanna his wife sailed from Middelburg, one of the Zeeland ports, to take possession of their kingdom of Castile in Spain. But a great storm came on, and their ship became separated from the others. Becoming unmanageable, it drifted helplessly down the Channel, and to make matters worse took fire just when the storm was at its height, and narrowly escaped foundering. Joanna had been shipwrecked on a former occasion, and when her husband came to inform her of the danger, she calmly put on her best dress and, with all her money and jewels about her, awaited her fate, thinking that when her body was found they would see she was a lady of rank and give her a suitable burial. With great difficulty the ship, now a miserable wreck, was brought into the port of Weymouth, and the royal pair were taken out with all speed and conveyed to the nearest nobleman's residence, which happened to be that of Sir Thomas Trenchard, near Dorchester, about ten miles distant. They were very courteously received and entertained, but the difficulty was that Sir Thomas could neither speak Spanish nor French, and the visitors could not speak English. In this dilemma he suddenly remembered a young kinsman of his, John Russel of Berwick House, Bridport, who had travelled extensively both in France and Spain, and he sent for him post-haste to come at once. On receipt of the message young Russel lost no time, but riding at full gallop, soon arrived at Wolfeton House. He was not only a good linguist, but also very good-looking, and the royal visitors were so charmed with him that when King Henry VII sent the Earl of Arundel with an escort to convey Philip and Joanna to see him at Windsor Castle, Russel went with them, and was introduced to King Henry by his royal guests as "a man of abilities, fit to stand before princes and not before meaner men." This was a good start for young Russel, and led to the King's retaining him at Court. He prospered greatly, rising high in office; and in the next reign, when Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries, Russel came in for a handsome share of the spoils, including Woburn Abbey; he was created a peer, and so founded the great house of Bedford, made a dukedom in 1694 by William III. One of his descendants, the third son of the sixth Duke of Bedford, was Lord John Russell (the name being then able to afford an extra letter), who brought the Great Reform Bill into Parliament in the year 1832. He was Prime Minister then and in several subsequent Parliaments, and his name was naturally a household word all over the kingdom; but what made my brother more interested in this family was that as early as the year 1850 he was nicknamed "Lord John," after Lord John Russell, who was then the Prime Minister.

We were now quite near Dorchester, but all we knew about that town previously was from a song that was popular in those days about "Old Toby Philpot," whose end was recorded in the last verse, when--

His breath-doors of life on a sudden were shut,
And he died full as big as a Dorchester butt!

Our expectations of finding a brewery there were fully realised, and, as anticipated, the butts we saw were of much larger dimensions, especially about the waist, than those we had seen farther north. If "Toby" was of the same proportions as one of these he must have been quite a monstrosity.

We were surprised to find Dorchester such a clean and pretty town. Seeing it was the county town of Dorset, one of the most ancient settlements in England, and the Durmovaria of the Romans, we expected to find some of those old houses and quaint passages so common to ancient county towns; but we learned that the old town had been destroyed by a fire in 1613, and long before that (in 1003) Dorchester had been burnt to the ground by the Danes. It had also suffered from serious fires in 1622, 1725, and 1775, the last having been extinguished by the aid of Johnny Cope's Regiment of Dragoons, who happened then to be quartered in the town. But the great fire in 1613 must have been quite a fearful affair, as we saw a pamphlet written about it by an eye-witness, under the title of _Fire from Heaven_. It gave such a graphic description of what such a fire was like, that we copied the following extract, which also displayed the quaint phraseology and spelling peculiar to that period:

The instrument of God's wrath began first to take hold in a
tradesman's worke-house ... Then began the crye of fier to be spread
through the whole towne man, woman and childe ran amazedly up and
down the streetes, calling for water, so fearfully, as if death's
trumpet had sounded a command of present destruction. The fier began
between the hours of two and three in the afternoone, the wind
blowing very strong, and increased so mightily that, in a very short
space, the most part of the town, was tiered, which burned so
extreamely, the weather being hot, and the houses dry, that help of
man grew almost past ... The reason the fier at the first prevailed
above the strength of man was that it unfortunately happened in the
time of harvest, when people were most busied in the reaping of their
corne, and the towne most emptyest, but when this burnying Beacon of
ruyne gave the harvestmen light into the field, little booted it to
them to stay, but in more than reasonable hast poasted they homeward,
not only for the safeguard of their goods and houses, but for the
preservation of their wives and children, more dearer than all
temporall estate or worldly abundance. In like manner the
inhabitantes of the neighbouring townes and villages, at the fearful
sight of the red blazing element, ran in multitudes to assist them,
proffering the dear venture of their lives to oppresse the rigour of
the fier, but all too late they came, and to small purpose showed
they their willing minds, for almost every streete was filled with
flame, every place burning beyond help and recovery. Their might they
in wofull manner behold merchants' warehouses full of riche
commodities on a flaming fier, garners of breade corn consuming,
multitudes of Wollen and Linnen Clothes burned into ashes, Gold and
Silver melted with Brasse, Pewter and Copper, tronkes and chestes of
Damaskes and fine linnens, with all manner of rich stuffs, made
fewell to increase this universe sole conqueror.... The fierceness of
the fier was such that it even burnet and scorchet trees as they
grew, and converted their green liveries into black burned garments;
not so much as Hearbes and Flowers flourishing in Gardynes, but were
in a moment withered with the heat of the fier.... Dorchester was a
famous towne, now a heap of ashes for travellers that passe by to
sigh at. Oh, Dorchester, wel maist thou mourn for those thy great
losses, for never had English Towne the like unto thee.... A loss so
unrecoverable that unlesse the whole land in pitty set to their
devotions, it is like never to re-obtain the former estate, but
continue like ruinated Troy, or decayed Carthage. God in his mercy
raise the inhabitants up againe, and graunt that by the mischance of
this Towne both us, they and all others may repent us of our sins.
Amen.

It was computed that over three hundred houses were destroyed in this great fire; but the prayer of the writer of the pamphlet, as to the town's being raised up again, had been granted. The county of Dorset generally, lies in the sunniest part of England, and the town was now prospering and thoroughly healthy, the death-rate being well below the average: did not the great Dr. Arbuthnot leave it in despair with the remark, "In Dorchester a physician can neither live nor die"?

Dorchester was one of the largest stations of the Romans in England, and their amphitheatre just outside the town was the most perfect in the country, the Roman road and Icknield ways passing quite near it. There were three great earthworks in the immediate neighbourhood--the Maumbury Rings or Amphitheatre, the Poundbury Camp, and the far-famed Maiden Castle, one of the greatest British earthworks; in fact Roman and other remains were so numerous here that they were described as being "as plentiful as mushrooms," and the whole district was noted for its "rounded hills with short herbage and lots of sheep." We climbed up the hill to see the amphitheatre, which practically adjoined the town, and formed one of the most remarkable and best preserved relics of the Roman occupation in Britain. It was oval in shape, and had evidently been formed by excavating the chalk in the centre, and building up the sides with it to the height of about thirty feet. It measured 345 feet by 340, and was supposed to have provided ample accommodation for the men and beasts that figured in the sports, in addition to about 13,000 spectators.

In the year 1705 quite 10,000 people assembled there to witness the strangling and burning of a woman named Mary Channing, who had murdered her husband. This woman, whose maiden name was Mary Brookes, lived in Dorchester with her parents, who compelled her to marry a grocer in the town named Richard Channing, for whom she did not care. Keeping company with some former gallants, she by her extravagance almost ruined her husband, and then poisoned him. At the Summer Assizes in 1704 she was tried, but being found pregnant she was removed, and eighteen weeks after her child was born, she was, at the following Lent Assizes, sentenced to be strangled and then burned in the middle of the area of the amphitheatre. She was only nineteen years of age, and insisted to the last that she was innocent.

About a hundred years before that a woman had suffered the same penalty at the same place for a similar offence. This horrible cruelty was sanctioned by law, in those days, in case of the murder of a husband by his wife; and the Rings were used as a place of execution until the year 1767.

There was a fine view of the country from the top of the amphitheatre, and we could see both the Poundbury Camp and the Mai-Dun, or "Hill of Strength," commonly called the Maiden Hill, a name also applied to other hills we had seen in the country. The Maiden Hill we could now see was supposed to be one of the most stupendous British earthworks in existence, quite as large as Old Sarum, and covering an area of 120 acres. It was supposed to be the Dunium of which Ptolemy made mention, and was pre-Roman without a doubt. At Dorchester the Romans appear to have had a residential city, laid out in avenues in the direction of Maumbury Camp, with houses on either side; but the avenues we saw were of trees--elm, beech, and sycamore.

The burial-places of the Romans were excavated in the chalk, and this being naturally dry, their remains were preserved much longer there than if they had been buried in damp soil. Many graves of Roman soldiers had been unearthed from time to time, and it was discovered that the chalk had been scooped out in an oblong form to just the exact size of the corpse. The man was generally found buried on his side with his knees drawn up to his chest, all sorts of things being buried with him, including very often a coin of the then reigning emperor placed in his mouth. His weapon and utensils for eating and drinking, and his ornaments, had been placed as near as possible to the positions where he had used them in life; the crown of his head touched one end of the oval-shaped hole in which he had been buried and his toes the other. The tomb was exactly in the shape of an egg, and the corpse was placed in it as tightly as possible, like a chicken in its shell. Women's ornaments were also found buried with them, such as pins for the hair and beads for the neck; but we did not hear of any rings having been found amongst them, so possibly these tokens of slavery were not worn by the Roman ladies. We might have found some, however, in the local museum, which was full of all kinds of old things, and occupied a house formerly tenanted by that man of blood---Judge Jeffreys, whose chair was still preserved, and whose portrait by Lely was sufficient alone to proclaim his brutal character. In the time of Monmouth's rebellion in 1685 Judge Jeffreys began his "Bloody Assize" at Dorchester. Monmouth had landed at Lyme Regis in the south of the county, and the cry was "A Monmouth! A Monmouth! The Protestant Religion!" and a number of Puritans had joined his standard. More than three hundred of them had been taken prisoners and were awaiting their trial at Dorchester, the county town. Jeffreys let it be known that their only chance was to plead guilty and throw themselves on the mercy of their country, but in spite of this two hundred and ninety-two received sentence of death. Twenty-nine of these were despatched immediately, and about ninety were executed in various parts of the country, their bodies being brutally dismembered and exposed in towns, villages, and hamlets. Great efforts were made to save one young gentleman named Battiscombe, who was engaged to a young lady of gentle blood, a sister of the Sheriff; she threw herself at the feet of Jeffreys to beg for mercy, but he drove her away with a jest so shocking to decency and humanity that it could not be repeated, and Battiscombe perished with the others. Altogether three hundred persons were executed, more were whipped and imprisoned, and a thousand sold and transported to the Plantations, for taking part in this rebellion, the money going as perquisites to the ladies of the Court. Jeffreys rose to be Lord Chancellor, but falling into disgrace after the abdication of James II, he was committed to the Tower of London and there died in 1689, before he could be brought to trial. It saddened us to think that this brute really belonged to our own county, and was at first the Justice for Chester. The following entry appeared in the records of the town:

To a Bill for disbursements for ye Gallows. Burning and boiling ye
Rebels, executed p. order £116 4s. 8d. Paid Mr. Mayers att ye Beare,
for so much hee pd. for setting up of a post with ye quarters of ye
Rebells att ye town end as p. his Bill 1s. 6-1/2d.

These entries bear evidence of this horrible butchery; but the Dorcestrians seem to have been accustomed to sights of this kind, as there had been horrible persecutions of the Roman Catholics there in the time of Queen Elizabeth--sequel perhaps to those of the Protestants in the time of Queen Mary--one man named Pritchard was hanged, drawn, and quartered in 1583, and in 1584 four others were executed.

Dorchester, like other places, could boast of local celebrities. Among these was John White, who in 1606 was appointed rector of Dorchester and held that office until the day of his death in 1648. He was the son of one of the early Puritans, and was himself a famous Puritan divine. At the Assembly of Divines at Westminster in 1643 he was said to have prayed before the House of Commons in St. Margaret's for an hour and a half, in the hope that they might be induced to subscribe to the "Covenant" to resist the encroachments of Charles I on religious liberty.

He was a pioneer in the New England movement, and was virtually the founder of Massachusetts, in America. From the first he took a most active part in encouraging emigration and in creating what at that time was known as New England, and he was also the founder of the New England Company. It was in 1620 that the good ship _Mayflower_ arrived at Plymouth with Robinson's first batch of pilgrims from Holland on their way across the Atlantic. It is not certain that White crossed the ocean himself; but his was the master-mind that organised and directed the expeditions to that far-distant land, and he was ably seconded by Bishop Lake, his friend and brother Wykehamist.

He also influenced John Endicott, "a man well known to divers persons of note" and a native of Dorchester, where he was born in 1588, to take an active part in developing the new Colonies, and mainly through the influence of White a patent was obtained from the Council on March 19th, 1628, by which the Crown "bargained and sold unto some Knights and Gentlemen about Dorchester, whose names included that of John Endicott, that part of New England lying between the Merrimac River and the Charles River on Massachusetts Bay."

At the time this "bargain" was made very little was known about America, which was looked upon as a kind of desert or wilderness, nor had the Council any idea of the extent of territory lying between the two rivers. This ultimately became of immense value, as it included the site on which the great town of Boston, U.S.A., now stands--a town that was founded by pilgrims from Boston in Lincolnshire with whom John White was in close contact.

John Endicott sailed from Weymouth in the ship _Abigail_, Henry Gauder, Master, with full powers to act for the Company. The new Dorchester was founded, and soon afterwards four "prudent and honest men" went out from it and founded Salem. John White procured a patent and royal charter for them also, which was sealed on March 4th, 1629. It seemed the irony of fate that on the same day 147 years afterwards Washington should open fire upon Boston from the Dorchester heights in the American War of Independence.

A second Dorchester was founded in America, probably by settlers from the second Dorchester in England--a large village near which we had passed as we walked through Oxfordshire, where in the distance could be seen a remarkable hill known as Dorchester Clump. Although it had been a Roman town, the city where afterwards St. Birinus, the Apostle of Wessex, set up his episcopal throne from 634 to 707, the head of the See of Wessex, it was now only a village with one long street, and could not compare with its much larger neighbour in Dorset. Its large ancient church, with a fine Jesse window, gave the idea of belonging to a place once of much greater size. The "hands across the sea" between the two Dorchesters have never been separated, but the pilgrims now come in the opposite direction, thousands of Americans visiting Dorchester and its antiquities; we heard afterwards that the American Dorset had been presented with one of the tessellated pavements dug up from a Roman villa in what we might call "Dorchester, Senior," in England, and that a memorial had been put up in the porch of Dorchester Church inscribed as follows:

In this Porch lies the body of the Rev. John White, M.A., of New
College, Oxford. He was born at Christmas 1575. For about forty years
he was Rector of this Parish, and also of Holy Trinity, Dorchester.
He died here July 21st, 1648. A man of great godliness, good
scholarship, and wonderful ability. He had a very strong sway in this
town. He greatly forwarded the migration to the Massachusetts Bay
Colony, where his name lives in unfading remembrance.

Another clergyman, named William Barnes, who was still living, had become famous by writing articles for the _Gentleman's Magazine_ and poems for the _Dorset County Chronicle_, and had published a book in 1844 entitled _Poems of Rural Life in Dorset Dialect_, some of which were of a high order. They were a little difficult for us to understand readily, for these southern dialects did not appeal to us. After he died a statue was erected to his memory, showing him as an aged clergyman quaintly attired in caped cloak, knee-breeches, and buckled shoes, with a leather satchel strung over his shoulder and a stout staff in his hand. One of his poems referred to a departed friend of his, and a verse in it was thought so applicable to himself that it was inscribed on his monument:

Zoo now I hope this kindly feäce
Is gone to find a better pleäce;
But still wi vo'k a-left behind
He'll always be a-kept in mind.

Thomas Hardy, the founder of Rochester Grammar School in 1569, was the ancestor of Admiral Hardy, Nelson's flag-captain, who received the great hero in his arms when the fatal shot was fired at Trafalgar, and whose monument we could see on Blackdown Hill in the distance. Not the least distinguished of this worthy family is Thomas Hardy, the brilliant author of the famous series of West-country novels, the first of which was published in 1872, the year after our visit.

Our next stage was Bridport, and we had been looking forward to seeing the sea for some time past, as we considered it would be an agreeable change from the scenery of the lonely downs. We passed by Winterbourne Abbas on our way, and the stone circle known as the "Nine Stones." The name Winterbourne refers to one of those ancient springs common in chalk districts which burst out suddenly in great force, usually in winter after heavy autumn rains, run for a season, and then as suddenly disappear.

Bridport was an important place even in the time of Edward the Confessor, when it contained 120 houses and a priory of monks. It was the birthplace of Giles de Bridport, the third Bishop of Salisbury, whose fine tomb we had seen in that cathedral, and who died in 1262; of him Leland wrote, "he kivered the new Cathedral Church of Saresbyrie throughout with lead." In the time of the Plantagenet kings Bridport was noted for its sails and ropes, much of the cordage and canvas for the fleet fitted out to do battle with the Spanish Armada being made here. Flax was then cultivated in the neighbourhood, and the rope-walks, where the ropes were made, were in the streets, which accounted for some of the streets being so much wider than others. Afterwards the goods were made in factories, the flax being imported from Rusfia.

We did not quite reach the sea that night, as it was a mile or two farther on; but we put up at the "Bull Hotel," and soon discovered we had arrived at a town where nearly all the men for ages had been destined for the army or navy, and consequently had travelled to all parts of the world--strong rivals to the Scots for the honour of being found sitting on the top of the North Pole if ever that were discovered.

King Charles II was nearly trapped here when he rode into the town in company with a few others and put up at the "George Inn." The yard of the inn was full of soldiers, but he passed unnoticed, as they were preparing for an expedition to the Channel Islands. Charles received a private message that he was not safe, and that he was being pursued, and he and his friends hastily departed along the Dorchester road. Fortunately Lord Wilton came up, and advised them to turn down a small lane leading to Broadwindsor, where Charles was immediately secreted; it was lucky for him, as the pursuing party passed along the Dorchester road immediately afterwards, and he would certainly have been taken prisoner if he had gone there. A large stone was afterwards placed at the corner of Lea Lane, where he turned off the high road, and still remained there to commemorate that event, which happened on September 23rd, 1651.

One Sunday morning in 1685 about three hundred soldiers arrived in the town from Lyme Regis, where the Duke of Monmouth had landed on his unfortunate expedition to seize the crown of his uncle James II. They were opposed by the Dorset Militia and fired upon from the windows of the "Bull Inn," where we were now staying, being eventually forced to retire.

In still later years Bridport was kept alive in anticipation of the hourly-expected invasion of England by the great Napoleon, who had prepared a large camp at Boulogne, the coast of Dorset being considered the most likely place for him to land.

(_Distance walked thirty miles_.)

_Friday, November 10th._

We left the "Bull Hotel" a little before daylight this morning, as we had a long walk before us, and in about half an hour we reached Bridport Quay, where the river Brit terminates in the sea, now lying before us in all its beauty. There were a few small ships here, with the usual knot of sailors on the quay; but the great object of interest was known as the Chesil Bank, "one of the most wonderful natural formations in the world." Nothing of the kind approaching its size existed elsewhere in Europe, for it extended from here to Portland, a distance of sixteen miles, and we could see it forming an almost straight line until it reached Portland, from which point it had been described as a rope of pebbles holding Portland to the mainland. The Bank was composed of white flint pebbles, and for half its distance from the Portland end, an inlet from the sea resembling a canal, and called "the Fleet," passed between the land and the Bank, which was here only 170 to 200 yards wide: raised in the centre and sloping down to the water on either side. The pebbles at the Bridport end of the Bank were very small, but at the Portland end they were about three inches in diameter, increasing in size so gradually that in the dark the fishermen could tell where they had landed by the size of the pebbles. The presence of these stones had long puzzled both British and foreign savants, for there were no rocks of that nature near them on the sea-coast, and the trawlers said there were no pebbles like them in the sea. Another mystery was why they varied in size in such a remarkable manner. One thing was certain: they had been washed up there by the gigantic waves that rolled in at times with terrific force from the Atlantic; and after the great storms had swept over the Bank many curious things had been found, including a large number of Roman coins of the time of Constantine, mediæval coins and antique rings, seals, plates, and ingots of silver and gold--possibly some of them from the treasure-ships of the Spanish Armada, which were said to have been sunk in the Bay. Geologists will explain anything. They now assert that the Bank is the result of tidal currents which sweep along the coast eastwards--that they have destroyed beds in the cliff containing such pebbles, and as the current loses strength so the bigger and heavier stones are dropped first and the smaller only reach the places where the current disappears.

This portion of the sea, known as the West Bay, was the largest indentation on the coast, and on that account was doubly dangerous to ships caught or driven there in a storm, especially before the time when steam was applied to them, and when the constant traffic through the Channel between Spain and Spanish Flanders furnished many victims, for in those days the wrecks were innumerable. Strange fish and other products of the tropical seas had drifted hither across the Atlantic from the West Indies and America, and in the fishing season the fin whale, blue shark, threshers and others had been caught, also the sun fish, boar fish, and the angler or sea-devil. Rare mosses and lichens, with agates, jaspers, coloured flints and corals, had also been found on the Chesil Bank; but the most marvellous of all finds, and perhaps that of the greatest interest, was the Mermaid, which was found there in June 1757. It was thirteen feet long, and the upper part of it had some resemblance to the human form, while the lower part was like that of a fish. The head was partly like that of a man and partly like that of a hog. Its fins resembled hands, and it had forty-eight large teeth in each jaw, not unlike those in the jaw-bone of a man. Just fancy one of our Jack-tars diving from the Chesil Bank and finding a mate like that below! But we were told that diving from that Bank into the sea would mean certain death, as the return flows from the heavy swell of the Atlantic which comes in here, makes it almost impossible for the strongest swimmer to return to the Bank, and that "back-wash" in a storm had accounted for the many shipwrecks that had occurred there in olden times.

From where we stood we could see the Hill and Bill of Portland, in the rear of which was the famous Breakwater, the foundation-stone of which had been laid by the Prince Consort, the husband of Queen Victoria, more than twenty years previously, and although hundreds of prisoners from the great convict settlement at Portland had been employed upon the work ever since, the building of it was not yet completed.

The stone from the famous quarries at Portland, though easily worked, is of a very durable nature, and has been employed in the great public buildings in London for hundreds of years. Inigo Jones used most of it in the building of the Banqueting Hall at Whitehall, and Sir Christopher Wren in the reconstruction of St. Paul's Cathedral after the Great Fire, while it had also been used in the building of many churches and bridges.

We had expected to find a path along the cliffs from Bridport Quay to Lyme Regis, but two big rocks, "Thorncombe Beacon" and "Golden Cap," had evidently prevented one from being made, for though the Golden Cap was only about 600 feet above sea-level it formed the highest elevation on the south coast. We therefore made the best of our way across the country to the village of Chideoak, and from there descended into Charmouth, crossing the river Char at the entrance to that village or town by a bridge. On the battlement of this bridge we found a similar inscription to that we had seen at Sturminster, warning us that whoever damaged the bridge would be liable to be "transported for life," by order of King George the Fourth."

Charmouth had been one of the Roman stations and the scene of the fiercest battles between the Saxons and the Danes in 833 and 841, in the reigns of Egbert and Ethelwolf, in which the Danes appeared to have been victorious, as they were constantly being reinforced by fellow-countrymen arriving by sea. But these were practically forgotten, the memories of them having been replaced in more modern times by events connected with the Civil War and with the wanderings of "Prince Charles," the fugitive King Charles II. What a weary and anxious time he must have had during the nineteen days he spent in the county of Dorset, in fear of his enemies and watching for a ship by which he could escape from England, while soldiers were scouring the county to find him!

He wrote a _Narrative_, in which some of his adventures were recorded, and from which it appeared that after the Battle of Worcester and his escape to Boscobel, where the oak tree in which he hid himself was still to be seen, he disguised himself as a manservant and rode before a lady named Mrs. Lane, in whose employ he was supposed to be, while Lord Wilton rode on in front. They arrived at a place named Trent, a village on the borders of Somerset and Dorset, and stayed at the house of Frank Wyndham, whom Charles described in his _Narrative_ as a "very honest man," and who concealed him in "an old well-contrived secret place." When they arrived some of the soldiers from Worcester were in the village, and Charles wrote that he heard "one trooper telling the people that he had killed me, and that that was my buff coat he had on," and the church bells were ringing and bonfires lighted to celebrate the victory. The great difficulty was to get a ship, for they had tried to get one at Bristol, but failed. In a few days' time, however, Wyndham ventured to go into Lyme Regis, and there found a boat about to sail for St. Malo, and got a friend to arrange terms with the owner to take a passenger "who had a finger in the pye at Worcester." It was arranged that the ship should wait outside Charmouth in the Charmouth Roads, and that the passenger should be brought out in a small boat about midnight on the day arranged. Charles then reassumed his disguise as a male servant named William Jackson, and rode before Mrs. Connisby, a cousin of Wyndham's, while Lord Wilton again rode on in front. On arrival at Charmouth, rooms were taken at the inn, and a reliable man was engaged who at midnight was to be at the appointed place with his boat to take the Prince to the ship.

Meantime the party were anxiously waiting at the inn; but it afterwards appeared that the man who had been engaged, going home to change his linen, confided to his wife the nature of his commission. This alarmed her exceedingly, as that very day a proclamation had been issued announcing dreadful penalties against all who should conceal the Prince or any of his followers; and the woman was so terrified that when her husband went into the chamber to change his linen she locked the door, and would not let him come out. Charles and his friends were greatly disappointed, but they were obliged to make the best of it, and stayed at the inn all night. Early in the morning Charles was advised to leave, as rumours were circulating in the village; and he and one or two others rode away to Bridport, while Lord Wilton stayed at the inn, as his horse required new shoes. He engaged the ostler at the inn to take his horse to the smithy, where Hamnet the smith declared that "its shoes had been set in three different counties, of which Worcestershire was one." The ostler stayed at the inn gossiping about the company, hearing how they had sat up with their horses saddled all the night, and so on, until, suspecting the truth, he left the blacksmith to shoe the horse, and went to see the parson, whom Charles describes as "one Westly," to tell him what he thought. But the parson was at his morning prayers, and was so "long-winded" that the ostler became tired of waiting, and fearing lest he should miss his "tip" from Lord Wilton, hurried back to the smithy without seeing the parson. After his lordship had departed, Hamnet the smith went to see Mr. Westly--who by the way was an ancestor of John and Charles Wesley--and told him the gossip detailed to him by the ostler. So Mr. Westly came bustling down to the inn, and accosting the landlady said: "Why, how now, Margaret! you are a Maid of Honour now."

"What mean you by that, Mr. Parson?" said the landlady.

"Why, Charles Stewart lay last night at your house, and kissed you at his departure; so that now you can't be but a Maid of Honour!"

Margaret was rather vexed at this, and replied rather hastily, "If I thought it was the King, I should think the better of my lips all the days of my life; and so you, Mr. Parson, get out of my house!"

Westly and the smith then went to a magistrate, but he did not believe their story and refused to take any action. Meantime the ostler had taken the information to Captain Macey at Lyme Regis, and he started off in pursuit of Charles; but before he reached Bridport Charles had escaped. The inn at Charmouth many years afterwards had been converted into a private house, but was still shown to visitors and described as the house "where King Charles the Second slept on the night of September 22nd, 1652, after his flight from the Battle of Worcester," and the large chimney containing a hiding-place was also to be seen there.

Prince Charles and some friends stood on the tower of Worcester Cathedral watching the course of the battle, and when they saw they had lost the day they rushed down in great haste, and mounting their horses rode away as fast as they could, almost blocking themselves in the gateway in their hurry. When they reached the village of Ombersley, about ten miles distant, they hastily refreshed themselves at the old timber-built inn, which in honour of the event was afterwards named the "King's Arms." The ceiling, over the spot where Charles stood, is still ornamented with his coat of arms, including the fleur-de-lys of France, and in the great chimney where the smoke disappears above the ingle-nook is a hiding-place capable of holding four men on each side of the chimney, and so carefully constructed that no one would ever dream that a man could hide there without being smothered by the smoke. The smoke, however, is drawn by the draught past the hiding-place, from which there would doubtless be a secret passage to the chamber above, which extended from one side of the inn to the other. In a glass case there was at the time of our visit a cat and a rat--the rat standing on its hind legs and facing the cat--but both animals dried up and withered like leather, until they were almost flat, the ribs of the cat showing plainly on its skin. The landlord gave us their history, from which it appeared that it had become necessary to place a stove in a back kitchen and to make an entrance into an old flue to enable the smoke from the stove-pipe to be carried up the large chimney. The agent of the estate to which the inn belonged employed one of his workmen, nicknamed "Holy Joe," to do the work, who when he broke into the flue-could see with the light of his candle something higher up the chimney. He could not tell what it was, nor could the landlord, whom "Joe" had called to his assistance, but it was afterwards discovered to be the cat and the rat that now reposed in the glass case. It was evident that the rat had been pursued by the cat and had escaped by running up the narrow flue, whither it had been followed by the cat, whose head had become jammed in the flue. The rat had then turned round upon its pursuer, and was in the act of springing upon it when both of them had been instantly asphyxiated by the fumes in the chimney.

With the exception of some slight damage to the rat, probably caused in the encounter, they were both almost perfect, and an expert who had examined them declared they must have been imprisoned there quite a hundred years before they could have been reduced to the condition in which they were found by "Holy Joe"!

The proprietors of the hostelries patronised by royalty always made as much capital out of the event as possible, and even the inn at Charmouth displayed the following advertisement after the King's visit:

Here in this House was lodged King Charles.
Come in, Sirs, you may venture;
For here is entertainment good
For Churchman or Dissenter.

We thought we had finished with fossils after leaving Stromness in the Orkney Islands and trying to read the names of those deposited in the museum there, but we had now reached another "paradise for geologists," this time described as a "perfect" one; we concluded, therefore, that what the Pomona district in the Orkneys could not supply, or what Hugh Miller could not find there, was sure to be found here, as we read that "where the river Char filtered into the sea the remains of Elephants and Rhinoceros had been found." But we could not fancy ourselves searching "the surrounding hills for ammonites and belemnites," although we were assured that they were numerous, nor looking along the cliffs for such things as "the remains of ichthyosaurus, plesiosaurus, and other gigantic saurians, which had been discovered there, as well as pterodactyles," for my brother declared he did not want to carry any more stones, his adventure in Derbyshire with them being still fresh on his mind. We therefore decided to leave these to more learned people, who knew when they had found them; but, like Hugh Miller with his famous Asterolepis, a young lady named Mary Anning, who was described as "the famous girl geologist," had, in 1811, made a great discovery here of a splendid ichthyosaurus, which was afterwards acquired for the nation and deposited in the British Museum.

Charmouth practically consisted of one long street rising up the hill from the river, and on reaching the top after getting clear of the town we had to pass along a curved road cut deeply through the rock to facilitate coach traffic. In stormy weather the wind blew through this cutting with such terrific fury that the pass was known as the "Devil's Bellows," and at times even the coaches were unable to pass through. The road now descended steeply on the other side, the town of Lyme Regis spread out before us, with its white houses and the blue sea beyond, offering a prospect that dwelt in our memories for many years. No town in all England is quite like it, and it gave us the impression that it had been imported from some foreign country. In the older part of the town the houses seemed huddled together as if to protect each other, and many of them adjoined the beach and were inhabited by fishermen, while a newer and larger class of houses was gradually being built on the hill which rose rather abruptly at the rear of what might be called the old town.

A curious breakwater called the Cobb stretches out a few hundred yards into the sea. This was originally built in the time of Edward I as a shelter for the boats in stormy weather, but was destroyed by a heavy sea in the reign of Edward III, who allowed a tax to be levied on all goods imported and exported, the proceeds to be applied towards the rebuilding of the Cobb.

After the death of Charles II his place was filled by his brother, who ascended the throne as James II; but Charles had a natural son, James, the Duke of Monmouth, who had been sent abroad, but who now claimed the English crown. On June 11th, 1685, the inhabitants of Lyme were alarmed by the appearance of three foreign ships which did not display any flags. They were astonished to find that it was an expedition from Holland, and that James, Duke of Monmouth, had arrived to lead a rebellion against his uncle, James II. The Duke landed on the Cobb, which at that time did not join the shore, so that he could not step on shore without wetting his legs; but Lieut. Bagster of the Royal Navy, who happened to be in a boat close by, jumped into the water and presented his knee, upon which the Duke stepped and so reached the shore without inconvenience. Monmouth then turned to Lieut. Bagster, and familiarly striking him on the shoulder, said, "Brave young man, you will join me!" But Bagster replied, "No, sir! I have sworn to be true to the King, and no consideration shall move me from my fidelity." Monmouth then knelt down on the beach and thanked God for having preserved the friends of liberty and pure religion from the perils of the sea, and implored the Divine blessing on what was to be done by land. He was received with great rejoicings in Lyme, where there was a strong Protestant element, and many joined his standard there, including Daniel Defoe, the author of _Robinson Crusoe_, then only twenty-four years of age. As the people generally had no grievance against James II, Monmouth's rebellion failed from want of support, and although he raised an army of 5,000 men by the time he reached Sedgmoor, in Somerset, he was there defeated and taken prisoner by the King's army, and beheaded in the same year. Defoe appears to have escaped capture, but twelve local followers of Monmouth were hanged afterwards on the Cobb at Lyme Regis. After Monmouth's execution a satirical ballad was printed and hawked about the streets of London, entitled "The Little King of Lyme," one verse being:

Lyme, although a little place,
I think it wondrous pretty;
If 'tis my fate to wear a crown
I'll make of it a city.

We had a look through the old church, and saw a stained-glass window which had been placed there in 1847 to the memory of Mary Anning, for the services rendered by her to science through her remarkable discovery of fossils in the cliffs of Lyme. There were also some chained books in the church, one of which was a copy of the Breeches Bible, published in 1579, and so called because the seventh verse in the third chapter of Genesis was rendered, "The eyes of them bothe were opened ... and they sowed figge-tree leaves together, and made themselves breeches."

We passed from Dorsetshire into Devonshire as we walked up the hill loading from Lyme Regis, and we had a fine view when we reached the summit of the road at Hunter's Cross, where four roads meet. Here we saw a flat stone supposed to have been the quoin of a fallen cromlech, and to have been used for sacrificial purposes. From that point a sharp walk soon brought us to the River Axe and the town of Axminster.

In the time of the Civil War the district between Lyme Regis and Axminster appears to have been a regular battle-field for the contending parties, as Lyme Regis had been fortified in 1643 and taken possession of by Sir Walter Erie and Sir Thomas Trenchard in the name of the Parliament, while Axminster was in the possession of the Royalists, who looked upon the capture of Lyme as a matter of the highest importance. In 1644 Prince Maurice advanced from Axminster with an army of nearly five thousand Royalists and cannon and attacked Lyme from the higher end of that town; but although they had possession of many fortified mansions which acted as bases or depots they were defeated again and again. The inhabitants of the town were enthusiastic about what they considered to be the Protestant cause, and even the women, as in other places, fought in male attire side by side with the men, to make the enemy think they had a greater number opposed to them. The lion's share of the defence fell to the lot of Captain Davey, who, from his fort worked his guns with such amazing persistence that the enemy were dismayed, while during the siege the town was fed from the sea by ships which also brought ammunition and stores. After righting for nearly two months and losing two thousand of his men Prince Maurice retired. The cannon-balls that he used, of which some have been found since that time on or near the shore, and in the outskirts of the town, weighed 17-1/2 lb.

One of the defenders was Robert Blake, the famous Admiral, who afterwards defeated the Dutch in a great battle off Portland. He died in his ship at Portsmouth, and his body was taken to Greenwich and afterwards embalmed and buried in Westminster Abbey. But Charles II remembered the part Blake had taken in the defeat of the Royalist forces at Lyme Regis, and ordered his ashes to be raked from the grave and scattered to the winds.

As may be imagined, in the fights between the two parties the country-people suffered from depredations and were extensively plundered by both sides. This was referred to in a political song entitled "The West Husbandman's Lamentations," which, in the dialect then prevailing, voices the complaint of a farmer who lost six oxen and six horses:

Ich had zix Oxen t'other day,
And them the Roundheads vetcht away--
A mischief be their speed!
And chad zix Horses left me whole.
And them the Cabballeeroes stole,
Chee vore men be agreed.

We were rather disappointed when we arrived at Axminster, for, having often heard of Axminster carpets, we expected to find factories there where they made them, but we found that industry had been given up for many years. We saw the factory where they were formerly made, and heard a lot about Mr. Whitty, the proprietor. He had made two beautiful carpets, and exhibited them in London before sending them to a customer abroad who had ordered them. They were despatched on board a ship from the Thames, which did not arrive at its destination and was never heard of afterwards. One of these carpets was described to us as being just like an oil painting representing a battle scene. The carpets were made in frames, a woman on each side, and were worked with a needle in a machine. We saw the house where Mr. Whitty formerly resided, the factory being at one end of it, while at the back were his dye-works, where, by a secret method, he dyed in beautiful tints that would not fade. The pile on the carpets was very long, being more like that on Turkey carpets, so that when the ends were worn they could be cut off with a machine and then the carpet appeared new again. Mr. Whitty never recovered from the great loss of the two carpets, and he died without revealing his secret process even to his son. The greater part of the works was burnt down on Trinity Sunday, 1834, and though some portion was rebuilt, it was never again used for making Axminster carpets, which were afterwards made at Wilton, to which place the looms were removed in 1835; the industry, started in 1755, had existed at Axminster for eighty years.

King Athelstan founded a college here in commemoration of the Battle of Brunnenburh, fought in 937, in which fell five kings and seven earls. The exact site of this battle did not appear to have been located, though this neighbourhood scarcely had more substantial claims to it than the place we passed through in Cumberland.

Axminster took its name from the river Axe, which passes near the town, and falls into the sea at Axemouth, near Seaton; the name Axe, as well as Exe and Usk, is Celtic and signifies water--all three being the names of rivers. There was not much left of Axminster at the end of the Civil War, except the church, for most of the buildings had been burnt down. A letter written on November 21st, 1644, by a trooper from Lyme Regis to his parents in London contained the following passage:

Hot newes in these parts: viz., the 15th of this present November wee
fell upon Axminster with our horse and foote, and through God's
mercie beat them off their works, insomuch that wee possessed of the
towne, and they betook them to the Church, which, they had fortified,
on which wee were loath to cast our men, being wee had a garrison to
look on. My brother and myselfe were both there. We fired part of the
towne, what successe we had you may reade by the particulars here
inclosed. Wee lost only one man in the taking of the towne, and had
five wounded. The Monday following wee marched to Axminster againe.
Major Sydenham having joyned with us that Lordis Day at night before,
thinking to have seized on the Church, and those forces that were in
it, but finding them so strong, as that it might indanger the loss of
many of our men, wee thought it not fit to fall upon the Church, but
rather to set the houses on fire that were not burnt at the first
firing, which accordingly we did, and burnt doune the whole toune,
unlease it were some few houses, but yet they would not come forth
out of the Church.