Across England in a Dog-Cart from London to St. Davids and back ... With ... illustrations by the author, etc

Front matter

ACROSS ENGLAND IN A DOG-CART carreg cennin castle acros0 Œnglanfc in a Bog-Cart .from lon&on to %t .Datiitis anu IBacft BY JAMES JOHN HISSEY AUTHOR OF 'A DRIVE THROUGH ENGLAND,' ' ON THE BOX SEAT, A TOUR IN A PHAETON,' ETC. ' While we find God's signet Fresh on English ground, Why go gallivanting With the nations round ?' KlNGSLEY. WITH SIXTEEN FULL-PAGE (AND SOME SMALLER) ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR AND A MAP OF THE ROUTE LONDON RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET IPubliaijcrs in 2Drtinaip to fl?er JflajestT? tt>t ®utm i 89 I AU rights reserved TO "DOLL" 1 DEDICATE THIS SIMPLE CHRONICLE OF A MOST DELIGHTFUL AND ENJOYABLE EXPEDITION MAIL COACH PILLAR Sec sage \t$

Preface

This volume is the simple, unvarnished account of a holiday excursion along the old coach roads. Starting from London, we drove right across England and Wales to far-off St. Davids, that curious city of cottages which stands remote from railways on the most westerly point of the Princi pality — a wild, wind-swept promontory : the Land's End of Wales. As to the accommodation on the road, of course it varied considerably. On the whole, we were well satisfied with our fare and treatment ; but then I do not expect to find all the comforts of my home when I go a-travelling, nor do I look for the luxuries of a London club, nor do I desire the display of a modern company-managed hotel, — the old-fashioned English inn, with small show and much comfort, is far more to my mind ; so are the charges thereof.

The journey was a most delightful one, and during our quiet progress we often found ourselves pitying the more rapid railway traveller ; for what recks he of the miles and miles of spreading loveliness that lie unseen between two distant spots ; what knows he of the real pleasures of travel, of the romance of the road, of the comforts of the past-

PREFACE.

VIII time coaching inns that still stand by the side of the halfforsaken highways, of the quaint old-world villages with their queer, old-fashioned folk, of the moated manor-houses and legend-haunted homes, of the picturesque farmsteads, of the numberless beauty-spots and revelations of scenery, or of the countless charms of the country-side ? These are reserved for the more leisurely traveller by road — lucky mortal he ! After our long drive from London to St. Davids and back, and all that we had seen on the way, we felt that we had really made a journey in the ancient meaning of the word, with all its many incidents and varying delights, its changeful scenes and constant surprises ; and we realised the distance we had traversed as no one possibly can who hastens across country by rail, annihilating space truly, but sacrificing for speed the infinite pleasure of a restful progress through the most beautiful country in the world.

The illustrations, engraved from my sketches by Mr. Pearson, will, I trust, lend an added interest to this account of our old-fashioned journey by road, — a journey taken for pleasure only, and in every way a success. J. J. H. MITCHELTKOY STOCKS See page 323 CONTENTS

Chapter I Page

The pleasures of driving across country — A true holiday — Post-haste versus steam-haste — The start — The right sort of carriage for the road — A bee-farm — An old inn sign — A half-timbered manor-house — A pretty village — Uxbridge — Touring on wheels .....

Chapter II

A house with a history — An old oak-panelled room — Cromwell as a painter — Roadside pictures — The beauty of ivy — Scotch firs — Chalfont St. Peter — A ford to cross — The picturesque incidents of road travel — A palimpsest brass — A gipsies' encampment — Chalfont St. Giles — Milton's cot- CONTENTS X PAGE 13 35 55 74 94 tage — Cromwell's inexhaustible cannon-balls — Jordans — The utility of the horn — A conceit in ironwork — Amersham

Chapter III

An old-world town — A fine monument — A quaint epitaph — The Amersham martyrs — " The spot where the Pope was burnt ! " — A picturesque street — An ideal farmstead — A homelike land — Railway -making — Little and Great Missenden — A very red lion — Honour End Farm — John Hampden — Wendover — A monkish tradition — An old-fashioned hostelry — Windmills — Aylesbury

Chapter IV

A diminutive church — Waddesdon — A curious shroud-brass — A wandering knight — Quaint signboard inscription — The trials of the amateur photographer — The spoiling of scenery — A rural thatched inn — A level land — Sky scenery — A wild common — The yeoman of old — Bicester — The old inn versus the modern hotel — Country curiosity — The amenities of the road .....

Chapter V

An awkward blunder — An enthusiastic antiquary — A wild drive — Curious gargoyles — A house with a history — A lonely hostel — A contented farmer — Westcot Barton — Gagingwell — An amusing incident — Chipping Norton — The love of scenery — Farmhouse inns — A Druid's circle — A romantic home of the past — The Four Shire Stone

Chapter VI

A stiff climb — Bourton-on-the-Hill — An elevated road — Stray sheep — A grand view — Broadway Hill — A unique and romantic village — A fine old coaching hostelry — We are shown over an ancient home — Relics of the coaching age — A ruined grange — The stones of England — Broadway church — A weather-worn effigy — A curious building — An old water-mill — Stone carvings — Old-time interiors — A chat with mine host .... CONTENTS XI PAGE 1 1 1 127 144 162

Chapter VII

A pleasant country — A ruined church — Tewkesbury — A quaint half-timbered hostel — "Beauty and the Beast" in buildings — Deserted roads — A moated manor-house — An old-time tradition — A place of sanctuary — The Malvern Hills — An Arcadian ideal — Eastnor Castle — Ruins to order — Ledbury — A curious church tower — A unique epitaph — The right of private judgment

Chapter VIII

A mountain panorama — Hop-gardens and hoppers — An ancient oak — Hereford Cathedral — A knight with two Orders of the Garter — Norman masons' marks — Copy of the Gospels in Anglo-Saxon — A new rendering of an old text — A saint with three skulls — A library of chained books — A very wonderful map — Epitaphs — Monastic ruins — A preacher's cross — An ancient hospital — A wayside cross — A half-timbered church steeple — On the banks of the Wye

Chapter IX

Byford — An interesting old house — Bredwardine — Enigmatical sculptures — King Arthur's Stone — A picturesque glen — Old mills — The Golden Valley— Hay town and castle — Going to market on pony -back — Taffy, his weaknesses and virtues — The Black Mountains — Curious names — Glasbury — A noted inn of the past — Welsh bridges — The Brecon Beacons — Fishing — Anglers' tales

Chapter X

Brecon Castle — The company at our inn— Llanspyddyd— Welsh names — A dearth of vowels — The Usk valley — A round church tower— Senny— The Carmarthen Van— Trecastle A lovely glen — A mail-coach dashed over a precipice — Llandovery — Nature's playgrounds — The Black Mountains— Llandilo— Building versus construction ..-••" CONTENTS XII 'AGE 182 201 220 238

Chapter XI

A river issuing out of a mountain-side — Carreg Cennin — Dryslwyn Castle — A country of " Llans " — An enterprising dealer — A lotus-eating land — Merlin's Cave — Traditions — Carmarthen — Coracles — Hobb's Point — A regular puzzle — The " Pass By " — A challenge — A mid-day halt — In luck's way — A rare thing in Wales — An angler's haunt — Haverfordwest — An anecdote of Turner — Sketching from nature — The ideal and the real

Chapter XII

"Sixteen miles and seventeen hills" — Threatening weather — A bleak country — Roch Castle — A desolate stretch of sea-coast — A terrible hill — A quaint village — A curious harbour — Caught in a storm — St. Davids city and cathedral — A back-handed compliment — Jokes in carving and stories in wood — Old tombs — St. David's shrine — Dust or saintly relics ? — A Goth-like act

Chapter XIII

The coast around St. Davids — Porth Clais — A tiny harbour — A primitive bridge — A glorious ocean panorama — Ramsey Island and Sound — A colourful country — St. Justinian's ruined shrine — Medieval miracles — Old-world beliefs — Hauntedcaverns — St. Davids Head — Our Ultima Thule — Silent stories of the sea — A wayside Celtic cross — An untravelled country — Signposts unnecessary luxuries — A hint for driving tourists . . . .

Chapter XIV

Fishguard — An old-world town — Goodwic — A Welsh Clovelly — A romantic spot — A French invasion — A tradition — Fishguard Bay — Curious old houses — A landlord's warning — A hilly stage — Weather and scenery — A windy locality — A rainbow — Newport sands — A wreck — A stormy sunset — A modernised castle — An ancient feudal charter ...... CONTENTS XIII PAGE 255 275 294 3H

Chapter XV

Welsh rivers — Picturesque Nevern — Primitive ways — A runic relic — Over the moors — Novel wall-building — A notable panorama — Kilgerran Castle — Sleepy Cardigan — The valley of the Teifi — A Paradise Lost — Llechrhyd — A salmon -leap — Cenarth — A spot to be remembered — Newcastle-Emlyn — Spoiling scenery — A land of castles — Weather prophets .....

Chapter XVI

By the side of the Teifi — A gem of river scenery — Llandyssil — A primitive spot — A good catch — A lucky angler — The country around Llandyssil — A tea for nothing — Hotel bills — Over the hills — Lampeter — At the sign of the Black Lion — A foreign-looking town — A regular Welshwoman — A big hill to climb — Pumpsaint — We inspect a British gold mine — Travellers' tales

Chapter XVII

Amongst the hills — In the clouds — A lovely glen — Mountain gloom and mountain glory — Llangorse Lake — A slight mishap — Crickhowell — A cottage weaver — Primitive trading — A little place with a long name — Abergavenny — In the heart of the Black Mountains — Gloomy scenery — A secluded dale — Llanthony Abbey — The poetry of painting — Romance versus fact ....

Chapter XVIII

The vale of Ewias — An evening drive — " Main roadmen " — Raglan Castle— Show places— An ancient Tudor mansion Mitcheltroy — Village stocks — Travellers' Tales — A medieval gateway — An old-time structure — Monmouth — The Wye A lonely wayside cross — Goodrich Castle CONTENTS XIV PAGE 334 352 37i 39i 409 411

Chapter XIX

A useless signpost — Rural folk — Flanesford Priory — Ross, its church and surroundings — A beautiful valley — May Hill — A romantic drive — Gloucester city and cathedral — An accommodating verger — A summer-house up in the trees — Cheltenham — Waiters — A brief for driving tours

Chapter XX

Andoversford — A primitive post-office — Over the Cotswolds — Coachmen's stock stories — Northleach — A nearly perfect Perpendicular church — A startling mishap — An old-world town — An interesting interior — Poetic religion — An ancient brass — Puzzling words — The ruined home of Speaker Lenthall — Building stone

Chapter XXI

An anecdote of the road — Minster Lovell — A ghastly discovery — Witney — An old butter-cross — Grape-growing — A gardener's opinion about birds — Eynsham cross — The tyrants of the road — The art of driving — Oxford — Thame — A mysterious stone figure — An obliterated epitaph — An ancient helmet with crest — Princes Risborough

Chapter XXII

Whiteleaf Cross — A "kissing-gate," or a " wishing-gate " ? — The beech-clad hills of Buckinghamshire — A quaint signpost — High Wycombe — Beaconsfield — Through the woods — An English common — Slough — The last stage in — Home again .... Appendix Index ILLUSTRATIONS Carreg Cennin Castle ...... Frontispiece Mail Coach Pillar ...... Page vi Mitcheltroy Stocks „ ix Market Cross, St. Davids „ xvi The Dog-Cart „ i Milton's Cottage, Chalfont St. Giles To face page 26 A Buckinghamshire Road ....,,,, 56 Out of the Beaten Track ....,,„ 78 An Old Coaching Inn, Lygon Arms, Broad way ....-•• u >) 98 Birts Morton Court „ ,, 120 The Wye from above Bredwardine . . „ „ 146 Brecon Beacons ., >. l6° Dynevor Castle » » l8° The South End of Ramsey Sound . ,, „ 222 Goodwic Harbour » » 24° Salmon Leap, Cenarth . . . ■ 268 In the Gwdderig Valley . . „ » 298 Llanthony Abbey » » 3 16 Old Bridge at Monmouth . . „ » 326 A Cotswold Mill . . . • • . „ „ 354 Map OF ROUTE . . End of Book MARKET CROSS, ST. DAVIDS See page

Chapter I

The pleasures of driving across country — A true holiday — Post-haste versus steam-haste — The start — The right sort of carriage for the road — A bee-farm — An old inn sign — A half-timbered manor house — A pretty village — Uxbridge — Touring on wheels. Dr. Johnson upon one occasion, when posting across country with Boswell, remarked, "Life has little better to offer than this." City lover though the famous doctor was, the delights of driving through the country drew from him this avowal. After such a confession from such an authority, I feel that I may the more readily and confidently express my own conviction — arrived at after many years' experience of the pleasures of road-travel — that for true enjoy ment there are few if any methods of spending a i summer holiday more delightful than the taking of a driving tour through some portion of picturesque England.

Not the least of the many attractions of an out ing of this kind is its perfect freedom. Journeying thus, you can start on your day's pilgrimage when you choose, for you are released from the thraldom of time-tables ; you have no weary waiting to endure at dismal junctions for unpunctual trains, nor have you any cause to worry about your luggage, for that goes with you ; you can stop on your way when and where you will, and at your pleasure jog along : thus may you enjoy for a while a wandering Bohemian kind of existence as an agreeable change from the manifold restraints and conventionalities of society, or the compulsory exactions of a professional or a business career — and a change of life as well as of scene is one of the essentials of a true holiday. When starting out upon such an old-fashioned tour, you have all the charms of freshness and pleasant possibilities before you, for your route takes you out of the hackneyed tourist-line of travel and leads you ever and again into remote unfamiliar beauty-spots unnoted by the guide-book compiler, — and what a fascination there is in exploring the unknown, even though such be a portion of your native land.

It is, alas ! a regrettable fact that in this railway travelling age, when everybody rushes through the country at steam-haste (not to be confounded with the leisurely " post-haste " of the days gone by), now hidden in a cutting, now buried in a darksome NEGLECTED SCENERY 3 tunnel — and cuttings and tunnels generally abound where the scenery is the most romantic and best worth seeing,— it is, as I have said, a regrettable fact that in this age of steam and speed so much of the most lovely, if not the most remarkable portions of our island scenery should be unknown to the majority of Englishmen, its rare beauties undreamt of; left there only for the simple rustic to admire, or perchance a stray artist, or possibly, if there be a fishful stream or river near, to the quiet contemplation of the solitary angler, attracted to the spot in hope of sport.

For those "long in city pent" how refreshing it is in the warm summer-time to escape for a while from the din of traffic and the dust and bustle of crowded streets ; to such what can be more exhilarating and health-giving than a driving tour, with the necessary delightful compulsion of spending the whole long day in the fresh pure air without fatigue ? There is no tonic in the whole Pharmacopœia to compare to that of the bracing breezes of the downs, of the moors, of the hills, or of the sea-coast. And how sweet and invigorating is the atmosphere of the open country everywhere ! to inhale it makes living for itself a pleasure ; it infuses fresh blood into one's veins, a light joyousness into one's being: yes, no small advantage of such an outing is its health -giving qualities. Though you are on a driving jaunt, you are not for that reason bound to sit lazily in your conveyance all the time, you can walk as much as ever you like, and explore afoot inviting byways to your heart's content, and so combine plenty of fresh air with ample e4\ercise and a complete freedom from brain-work.

Truly we employ the railway for speed, but for real enjoyment give me the road ; the road that leads the muchto-be-envied traveller thereon naturally through the heart of Old England and that takes him into close contact with her people, enticing him along in an irresistibly friendly manner, never disappointing him, and ever suggesting future possibilities of good things to come. To know rural England is to love it dearly, for the English landscape has a heart, and its mellow unassuming beauty comes very near to him who goes forth leisurely to seek it. Speed is a very excellent thing in its way, and railways are ugly blessings, but still for all there are times and circumstances when a quiet restful progress is more to be desired and sought afterwhiles carried o'er the iron road We hurry by some fair abode : The garden bright amidst the hay, The yellow wain upon the way, The dining men, the wind that sweeps Light locks from off the sun-sweet heaps ; The gable gray, the hoary roof, Here now — and now so far aloof.

How sorely then we long to stay And midst its sweetness wear the day. And 'neath its changing shadows sit, And feel ourselves a part of it. « As the time comes round for the annual exodus of the town-tired Londoner, the important questions AN IDEAL HOLIDA Y 5 as to where he shall go and how he shall spend his summer outing inevitably present themselves. Thousands of unpatriotic Britons solve the problem of where to go by rushing off to the Continent, unmindful of the excellent advice of quaint old Fuller, " Know most of the rooms of thy native country, before thou goest over the threshold thereof, especially seeing England presents thee with so many observables " ; advice as pertinent in the pre sent day as when first written, or perhaps more so. It is some years ago now since I ventured to take my holiday in a manner then somewhat out of the usual course, and selected to try a driving tour by way of change from the monotonous routine of ordinary travel ; a departure I have every reason to congratulate myself upon having taken.

The result of my first long "cruise on wheels" was that I spent the most enjoyable vacation imaginable, free from all the minor worries of travel, besides laying up for myself a store of health and strength, and bright memories of happy days never to be forgotten. Surely an ideal holiday this ! That first driving expedition from London to North Wales and back was followed next year by another more lengthened and, were it possible, even more delightful drive of a similar kind to Scotland and home. These two extensive excursions, in quest of holiday pleasure and relaxation only, I can truly state were a revelation to me of unimagined beauties and of scenic surprises. It was then that it dawned upon me that I had travelled far and wide over many lands without really knowing my own. The easy restful progress through miles and miles oi fresh country with new landscapes ever opening out, and a mellow beauty all around, charmed me as I had never been charmed before.

What can be more delightful than to find oneself with a favourite and sympathetic companion on the threshold of such an expedition, with all untravelled England before one, not bound on deliberate sight seeing, nor feeling any compulsion to carry out any pre-arranged programme, taking Carpc diem as a motto, content simply to enjoy each day's delights and to let the future take care of itself ? So it happened, having previously made all our arrangements, we, my wife and self that is, started one gloriously fine afternoon on a drive of some hundreds of miles from London to St. Davids in South Wales and, back, or, to be more exact, it was on ist September 1890 that we found ourselves seated in our four-wheel dog-cart (a new carriage, built and planned especially for road-work, of which presently), our belongings carefully stowed away, not forgetting our sketch-books, photographic apparatus, maps, rugs, waterproofs, road-books, and other necessaries — or luxuries.

The word was given, the traces tightened, our horses' heads were turned westwards, and we trotted on apace, anxious to get, as soon as might be, out of the wearisome maze of suburban houses and streets. Our journey so long planned and talked of had begun, the pleasures of anticipation were about to give way to even the greater pleasures of realisation ! Our former expeditions had been taken in a THE CARRIAGE FOR ROAD- WORK 7 roomy phaeton ; and many hundreds of miles over all sorts of country, and in all sorts of weather, had the phaeton gone with us. We regarded it therefore with much the same kind of affection as an old sailor regards his ship that has been many a long voyage with him, has traversed many a sea, has weathered many a storm. This year, however, we determined to have a special carriage built, one expressly suited to the peculiar requirements of road-work, though it cost us something to desert our good and staunch old craft the phaeton.

The outcome of our deter mination was that after long and careful considera tion we decided to have a four-wheel dog-cart built. The advantages of such a conveyance, designed for its special purpose, are many over an ordinary carriage designed simply for the usual routine of everyday work — driving, calling, shopping, or " doing " the park. Our new dog-cart is constructed of light-coloured wood, simply varnished, so as to show the dust as little as possible, the wheels only are painted the old mail red, both for cheerfulness and as being the most serviceable colour : it is compact, strong though not heavy, and was above all designed for use not show ; yet it looks both smart and thoroughly work manlike, possessing as it does the essential qualifica tion of fitness for its purpose. When on the road our belongings are stowed away in the roomy com partment below, secure from rain as well as dust.

This compartment locks up, so that when baiting at an inn no chance loafer in the stable-yard thereof can "convey" (which is, I believe, the polite term for stealing amongst the fraternity) to himself any trifling loose article. On the top of the dog-cart, between the seats, is a fitted box that also locks up. This is so arranged as to be easily opened by the driver at any time ; in it we packed those articles which we might require at a short notice. A travelling-clock is fitted at the foot of the splash-board, a long horn (for use) in a leather case is slung in a handy position at the right-hand side of the driver, a powerful brake is provided, and lastly, the lamps, intended for service and to really throw a good light ahead, are large and such as were employed on the old coaches. Some idea of what the carriage is like may be gathered from the illustration at the head of this chapter.

But after this digression, to return to ourselves, as we were making a late start, we decided to drive only as far as Uxbridge and take up our quarters there for the night. Our route led us through Acton, Ealing, Hanwell, and Southall, a road with few scenic attractions. As far as Ealing there are houses, more or less, on either side of the way, with only occasionally an unbuilt -on space affording a peep of the country beyond ; but when we did obtain them, these peeps of the green fields and blue distances were very pleasing, and made us long to get right away into the real open unspoilt country. As we passed through Hanwell we observed an ancient inn sign bearing an unfamiliar title, The Old Hat, to wit. The hat, which was represented in metal cut out to shape and painted, resembled the traditional brigand's headgear as seen on the A BEE-FARM 9 stage if nowhere else.

A notice below stated that the inn had been "established 300 years," so that it must have seen many changes and outlived many generations of landlords. Whether the form of hat is the same as that originally set up I cannot say, but the quaintness of the sign gave something of an interest to the commonplace street. Just before Southall we passed a field dotted all over with bee-hives, which a board informed us was "Southall Bee-farm." We could not help wondering if bee-farming were a profitable occupa tion ; in all our wanderings we had never come upon one before. Here at Southall is an interesting old half-timbered manor house that would make a charming water-colour sketch, its picturesqueness being emphasised by its mean modern surroundings. After leaving Southall, and when nearing Hill ingdon, the road plucked up a little spirit and became even almost pretty in places.

It was very refreshing to come upon a bit of green open house less country with trees and hedgerows on either side, in place of the rows of stucco terraces and the wearisome succession of detached and semi-detached villas we had traversed so far ; for the suburbs of London are "long drawn out," — suburbs the houses of which are so essentially the product of the nineteenth century, one and all but too suggestive of the speculative builder, constructed possibly to out last the lease of the ground on which they stand — with repairs from time to time, of course ; — but that is the tenant's business. What a curse to beauty is this running up of houses in rows, or otherwise, for sale ; the builder his own architect, and whose chief aim seems, alas ! to be an unhappy combination of cheap construction with money -making.

Yes, it was pleasant to feel that at last we had got beyond the mean suburbs of the richest city in the world, — an overgrown city that still is growing apace, with an appetite for swallowing up each year so many green fields that seems never to be satiated. Hillingdon was the next place we passed through, and it struck us as being a rather pretty village, with its flint-built, countrified church, and its tiny village -green with an ancient elm thereon, from the trunk of which hung the rural inn sign, the device upon it weathered out of all recognition. Soon after leaving this we arrived at the end of our first day's stage, just as the sun was setting crimson in the west before us, giving every prospect of a fine day for the morrow, for, as the old country weather-lore has it : " Red at night is a shepherd's delight."

And these old sayings are not to be despised. At Uxbridge we patronised the Chequers Hotel, where we found comfortable quarters for ourselves and moreover good stabling and fodder for our horses. In the coffee-room we had for company a sun-browned tricyclist just returning home from an extended tour, who entertained us with an in teresting account of his expedition. We soon dis covered that our tricyclist travelled like ourselves to see and enjoy the country, not to, simply cover so many miles a day, and boast afterwards of the distance accomplished (as I fear some wheelmen CYCLING 11 do), as though the end and aim of travel were to cover so many miles in so many hours. Those cyclists who rush across country as fast as their machines will carry them, and would go even faster if they could, always appear to me to be in a con stant state of anxiety to be somewhere else than where they may chance to be at any time.

Possibly this restless desire to be ever on the move is be gotten by the very powers of rapid transit afforded by the cycle. By the way, I have often wondered, had it only been invented then, what our steady-going fore fathers would have thought of the bicycle ; in their days it would have been a real blessing, enabling many a person whose limited means prevented him going far from home to travel about and see some thing of his own country beyond his native shire, to visit friends at a distance, and all with small cost and much independence. How delightful, too, it would have been to ride the steel steed over the well-kept main roads as they existed in the heyday of the coaching age ! I say main roads, for many of the by-roads were then, as now, not so smooth, rut less, and stoneless as could be desired.