On Southern English Roads ... With ... illustrations by the author, etc

Front matter

■ ■ ■ ON SOUTHERN ENGLISH ROADS Frontispiece BURPHAM FERRY <®n €ngli0i) &oat>s BY JAMES JOHN HISSEY AUTHOR OF 'ON THE BOX SEAT,' 'ACROSS ENGLAND IN A DOG-CART,' A HOLIDAY ON THE ROAD,' ' THROUGH TEN ENGLISH COUNTIES,' ETC ' Hisce rotis patrias juverit isse vias ' WITH SIXTEEN FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR AND A PLAN OF THE ROUTE LONDON RICHARD BENTLEY & SON ©ublialjew in Dsliinar**! to Bjer iSlajeaw ttje SQuem 1896 A ll rights reserved TO Eicfjari Bentkg THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED BY HIS FRIEND

Preface

In the present age of rushing to and fro at steam haste — not the slow post-haste of old — when " globe trotting " has become quite commonplace, this simple chronicle of a leisurely driving-tour of only a few hundred miles "On Southern English Roads" may seem almost an anomaly. On behalf, however, of quiet-loving tourists like myself, who do not measure beauty by the mile, and who from pure pleasure choose to travel by road and behind horses, just as our pre -railway forefathers did, I may quote a dictum of Ruskin's, "A fool wants to shorten time and space, a wise man wants to lengthen both." How many of those who rush over different lands and seas, as fast as railway-train or steamboat will convey them, really know anything of the countries they hasten through, or are cognisant of the charm of deliberate and desultory travel ? wherein one has full command over one's time, conveyance, route, and luggage, and so can stop at any point on the way as wished — this is true travelling ; the railway simply takes you from place to place, by it you merely depart and arrive !

The distance traversed in a given time never appeals to me : one man may actually see more in a quiet walk round his garden than another who has "done" his thousands of miles ; the traveller who goes the farthest and journeys the fastest does not therefore see the most. So, even in these days of rapid transit and magnificent distances, I trust that this unvarnished record of a restful, health-giving holiday, spent in driving about the peace-bestowing English country, may help to show how much of beauty and interest lies at our own doors, and prove the needlessness of going abroad to discover the picturesque. For many summers now past have we taken driving expeditions through some portion of Old England, our aim being, as much as possible, to keep away from the crowded and well-beaten tourist track ; and this volume contains a simple account of the last of these most enjoyable outings in search of "fresh roads and taverns new."

To Mr. Pearson my thanks are due for the pains he has taken in engraving my drawings. It seems to me only consistent that the story of an old fashioned journey like this should be illustrated in the good old-fashioned way by wood-cuts. J. J. HISSEY. 1896. PAGE I 36 CONTENTS

Chapter I

Road travel — A real holiday — A pleasant pilgrimage — Old coaching inns — An early start — The South Downs — Seeing and thinking — Windmills — An architectural dream — A lesson in patience — A relic of the past

Chapter II

Distance the enchanter — Country towns — "A shoemaker's holiday " — Our country towns — Toy rivers — The Sussex iron age — " Hammer Ponds " — Dry sermons ! — Local pronunciation of place names — A town beyond railways — Out of the beaten track — The Pelham buckle — A chat by the way — A serious mistake — A Sussex proverb — A curious bequest — A haunted hill . . . . . .17

Chapter III

Halland House — Old buildings and their uses — Laughton Place and moat — An ancient tower — The South Downs from Laughton — A sea warrior of " Great King Henry's dayes " — A picturesque village — English wild-flowers — Exploring a fresh country — A well-wooded land — Old traditions — Facts or fables — Isfield — Useless directions — A mystery — The world as others see it — A quaint old home .

Chapter IV

Isfield church — The Shurley Chapel — An ostentatious tomb — Old brasses — A eulogistic inscription — Wooded Sussex X PAGE 73 89 — Old-time roads — A wandering artist — Buxted — An old ironmaster — Sussex cannon — A family rebus — A quaint brass epitaph — Invented facts — Haunted? ... 53

Chapter V

A wild district — Changes of scene and climate — English landscapes — A gipsy encampment — A grand panorama — The romance of the road — Left to the imagination — A windy height — A lonely inn — Unrecorded legends — "Blowborough" — Curious notices — Crowborough Beacon — Modern miracles — Old-fashioned country folk — Ghost lore — The Red Cross Inn — A lovely country — A modern village — Tunbridge Wells — An elevated hostel

Chapter VI

The much-abused English climate — An old moated house — An old-world garden — Poor amateur photographer — Rural England — A picturesque farmstead — Old houses and new — An ancient hostelry — A deserted mansion — A mystery — " Sussexian " — A satirical traveller — Cyclists' inns — The evolution of the spire — Ashdown Forest — Sketching from nature — Forest Row — Visitors' books at hotels — Ruins of Brambletye House — An old coaching inn .

Chapter VII

At East Grinstead — Sackville College — "Modern Gothic" — "Ye Village Cage" at Limpsfield — A new reading of history — Old houses — A tip declined ! — Fine altar-tomb — A tradition — Too good for this world — Old chained Bibles — Benefactors — A picture in building — Crowhurst church — Oldest yew tree in England — A smock-frocked clerk — Crowhurst Place — A legendary house — A quaint and interesting interior . . . . . .112 CONTENTS XI PAGE

Chapter VIII

An ancient home — A million years old ! — Sussex lanes — Haste the curse of the century — Nature's cathedral — An Anglo- Saxon church — A curious font — Worth Forest — Balcombe — A Sussex tarn — Cuckfield — The charm of old country towns — The " doom tree " — A weird custom — An old-fashioned ghost — A poet's license . . . . 1 33

Chapter IX

Haywards Heath — Scaynes Hill — East Mascalls — A ruined manor-house — An ideal village — A picturesque home — Motto over doorway — Chat with a miller — Sussex names — A quaint brass and an interesting tomb — Old helmets — Ruins of Slaugham Place — An estate extending from London to the Channel — A long parish . . . .152

Chapter X

St. Leonard's Forest — A local tradition — The " Capital of the Weald " — Where Shelley was born — Knepp Castle — A wayside cross — Steyning — Curious panelling — A Norman church — Mysterious carving — " Sir Harry Gough's house " — " Heathen burials " — Wiston — Storrington — Parham and its treasures — An historic home — Old armour — A picture with a story to tell — Hiding-holes — Where Queen Elizabeth dined — A natural sun-dial . . . .172

Chapter XI

" The Wild Brooks " — Amberley Castle — " Four good things of Sussex " — A church hour-glass stand — Lost on the Downs — A case of " Hobson's choice " — A river ferry — Arundel — The Fitzalan Chapel — A brace of anecdotes — Swanbourne Lake — A Sussex " hanger " — A famous view — Nature and art — Slindon — A ruined priory — Boxgrove — An interesting interior — Chichester . . . .194 PAGE

Chapter XII

An old prophecy fulfilled— Chichester market cross — An old-world village— Traditions— The legend of the bells of Bosham — An historic church — Old words and expressions — An English Holland — The invention of ox-tail soup — Sea and land — Porchester Castle — Fareham — Church towers — Titchfield Place gateway — Bursledon Bridge — Southampton— Ferries old and new . . . .215

Chapter XIII

An old-fashioned inn — The money value of a view — The river Test — The New Forest — Stoney Cross — The Rufus Stone — Possible origin of an old saying — The valley of the Hampshire Avon — Ringwood — Anglers' inns — Wimborne and its minster — Old customs — The curfew — A curious tomb — A library of chained books — Sign-posts — Poole Harbour — A peculiar inn sign . . . . .233

Chapter XIV

Wareham — A town within its ancient Roman walls — A deserted Saxon church — The Isle of Purbeck — Corse Castle — A quaint village — Picturesque houses — Swanage — Old customs — A professional invalid — Pure air ! — Durlston Head — The world in stone — A grand cliff walk — Tilly Whim caves — " Wesley's Cottage " . . . .254

Chapter XV

Curious inscriptions — An amusing blunder — "The Bloody Bank" — Hills and heather — A haunted manor — Wool Bridge — Bindon Abbey — Winfrith — Roadside acquaintances — A primitive interior — The story of a pew — Maiden Castle — Dorchester — An evening ramble . . .271 CONTENTS XIII PAGE 287 326

Chapter XVI

A Dorsetshire poet — Uncertain weather — The restorer in his glory — A ghastly sight — A lovely valley — Godmanstone — The art of seeing — Cerne Abbas — Old legends — Cerne Abbey gateway — The Cerne Giant — A deserted mill — A grand mausoleum — Long Burton — A picture for a pilgrim

Chapter XVII

Sherborne — House names — Bell inscriptions — An ancient abbey conduit — Sherborne Castle — A wild and hilly drive — Bruton — A church with two towers — King Alfred's Tower — A monastic pigeon-house — Somerset hills and scenery — Frome — Bishop Ken's curious tomb — An easy stage — Westbury White Horse — A charming village — Trowbridge ........ 307

Chapter XVIII

An uninteresting town — A quiet spot — Seend — God's garden — "Shane's Castle" — A hill-climbing canal — The " Bear" at Devizes — The glamour ofa name — A curiously-inscribed market cross — "The Island" — A wayside monument — Another white horse — An ancient earth -work — Upavon — Benighted on Salisbury Plain — An oasis in a desert

Chapter XIX

A grand playground — Wild England of to-day — Adventures — Ludgershall Castle — Herring-bone masonry — A decayed town — An interesting market cross — Weyhill — Andover — An old rhyming proverb — The upper Test — Nature's music — Scenery and character — A wooden church — Two old inns — A Roman road — Winchester — A reminder of the plague — The valley of the Itchen — A curious church — Saxon sculpture ?....... PAGE 384

Chapter XX

Itchen Abbas — Alresford — Epitaphs and Burial Boards — A greenland solitude — The fascination of the far-away — Rogate — A fine brass to an Agincourt hero — A " leper's window " — Latin or English — A wild heath — Peat-cutting in a southern county — The ruins of Cowdray House — Queen Elizabeth as a sportswoman — "The curse of Cowdray" 3°7

Chapter XXI

Cowdray Park — Petworth — Nineteenth-century ecclesiastical architecture — Bric-d-brac hunting — A novel title — " The Wastes of the Manor" — Happy travellers — The blessing of scandal ! — An artist-haunted hostelry — A quaint conceit in inn signs — Stopham Bridge — Washington — Over the Downs — The helmet of " the great Earl of De la Warr " .

Chapter XXII

Sompting — A unique church tower — Disappointed cyclists — " The Sussex Pad " — Old Shoreham — Picturesque Lewes — A castle with two keeps — Mystic symbols — Round-towered churches — A Saxon sun-dial — Seaford — Friston Place — The end of the journey ..... 399 Appendix: Itinerary of Journey . . . . . .419 Index . . . . . . . . . .421 ILLUSTRATIONS BURPHAM FERRY ....... Frontispiece "A Haunt of Ancient Peace" . . . To face page 44 In Mid-Sussex „ „ 74 A Moated Home — Groombridge Place . ,, ,, 92 A Decayed Mansion — Crowhurst Place . „ ,, 126 A Ruined Manor-House — East Mascalls . „ „ 156 The South Downs from near Steyning . ,, ,, 178 Amberley Castle from the Wild Brooks. „ ,, 196 Bosham, Low Tide . . . . . ,, ,, 218 The Valley of the Hampshire Avon, near Ringwood » „ 240 St. Martin's Church, Wareham. . . ,, ,, 256 Haunted !

Wool Bridge Manor-House . ,, ,, 278 Cerne Abbey Gateway . . . . „ ,, 298 Salisbury Plain, near Everley . . . „ ,, 348 The Ruins of Cowdray House . . . „ ,, 380 Lewes ........,,,, 404 Map of Route End of Book

Chapter I

Road travel — A real holiday — A pleasant pilgrimage — Old coaching inns — An early start — The South Downs — Seeing and thinking — Windmills — An architectural dream — A lesson in patience — A relic of the past. Says William Hazlitt in his delightful essay "On going a Journey " anent the charm of freedom in travel : " The soul of a journey is liberty, perfect liberty, to think, feel, do, just as one pleases ... to be free from all impediments and of all inconveni ences." He was discoursing about a walking tour, which has its special delights counterbalanced, how ever, it seems to me, by certain decided drawbacks ; for on a pedestrian expedition you can take but very few things with you, otherwise tramping all day long with a heavily-laden knapsack strapped to your back is apt to turn what should be a pure pleasure outing* into one of positive toil, the more especially should the day be hot and the way be hilly ; besides, it requires a certain amount of training to set forth on a lengthened walking tour, so as to be refreshed and not fatigued by the unaccustomed exertion.

There is, of course, cycling to be considered, but with all its charms as a pleasant exercise, cycling is also open to the foregoing objections as regards the limited amount of luggage available on tour and the training needful ; besides, it entails the additional dis advantage of your having to look after and clean a possibly muddy machine at night when perhaps sufficiently tired with a long day's work ; for, as I have found from bitter experience, the task of tend ing to the steel steed is one not lightly to be entrusted to the average and probably unsympathetic ostler. Moreover, your companion, unless you go alone, must necessarily be a cyclist too ; and then there are the considerations of pace and distance to be done each day to be carefully taken into account beforehand ; otherwise disagreements might arise on the way, and what should be a health and pleasure-giving outing might easily prove, by over - exertion, a hurtful experience.

Now the essence of a true holiday (especially to those not over-strong) is to enjoy a change of scene and air with as little fatigue or worry as possible ; and so far as I have been able to discover, the best way of securing these supreme advantages is to take a driving tour, for travelling thus you are enabled to have with you a reasonable amount of baggage, in cluding all things needful for health or comfort, besides sundry luxuries, such as a few books by favourite authors to beguile a wet evening at a lonely country inn, an ample supply of sketching materials, as well as perchance a photographic outfit, to say nothing of wraps, overcoats, or waterproofs in case PLEASURE TRAVEL 3 of bad weather; for the English summer, delightful though it be, is like a fickle maiden, uncertain and tearful at times.

And who would wish it otherwise ? Not I, in truth. Variety is the salt that lends zest to the pleasures of life, and shower — ay, and even storm — as well as sunshine are needful to bring out to the full the picturesque qualities of the landscape. Where would be the peculiar charm and the poetry of the majority of Turner's pictures without the changeful sky scenery he introduces ? A glance through his illustrations to England and Wales will show what I mean. Sometimes, indeed, during our wanderings the skyscape has even been more interesting and noteworthy than the landscape. A driving tour is the very luxury of travelling. Whether you be the fortunate possessor of a carriage and horses, or have to hire them for the occasion, it matters not ; nor in face of the fact that no further expenses are entailed for railway fares, cabs, etc., and that the charges at the rural inns are the reverse of extortionate, can it be deemed a costly form of spending a summer holiday, especially taking into consideration the constant change of scenery and air, the varying incidents and feast of loveliness such an expedition provides.

The driving tourist, too, is in an enviable position of delightful independence ; time-tables trouble him not, and having no one's convenience to consult but his own, he need never be in a hurry ; he is happily free from the worry of looking after his luggage or the risk of losing it, for his belongings go with him and are ever at command (even on the way if required) ; he can breakfast at his leisure without the fear of missing a train, can start on his day's stage when he will, can loiter on the road or speed along just as his mood at the moment dictates. He can pull up for rest and refreshment at any wayside hostelry that may take his fancy, or should he so prefer, may picnic in a shady nook or grassy field, for he can carry his lunch in his conveyance and a bait for his horse besides, all that is really needful for him being to reach an inn at the end of each day's pleasant pilgrimage.

For a happy combination of comfort with independence, what form of travel ling can compare with a driving tour? And who would not be light-hearted having such an expedition in immediate prospect, full of untasted pleasure, with all fair England before him to explore ? Having thus sung the praises of our special mode of travel, though not, I trust, having sounded the horn too loudly, let me bid you, kind reader, in imagination to mount the box-seat of our roomy and comfortable four-wheel dog-cart, and as we roll pleasantly and peacefully along the quiet country roads in spirit together, allow me to note to you the varied beauties and characteristics of the mellow home-like scenery we pass through, to point out from time to time the interesting architectural features of the ancient churches, stately halls, or moated granges — haunted or otherwise — we may come upon, and to talk over the traditions which that rare old romancer Father Time has gathered round about the latter, to show you the quiet charms of sleepy medieval market towns and remote old-world villages that ANCLENT HOSTELRIES 5 have never known the hand of the modern builder, nor heard the sound of the rushing railway train, to call your attention to the simple poetry that exists in many a peaceful farmstead and rural cottage home.

Now and then, too, our eyes will be charmed by the vision of a genuine old coaching inn standing in dignified solitude by the side of the erst turnpike road, with its weather-stained front, and storm-beaten sign swinging as in times long past at the top of a post, so that all who pass by cannot fail to notice it. Such ancient hostelries appeal strongly to one's sympathies by the associations they arouse of de parted days, too often, alas ! also of a departed prosperity, and the pictures they inevitably bring to the mind's eye of jovial hosts, jolly Jehus, rollicking post-boys, and, by no means least, of our hail-fellow well-met, port-wine-loving ancestors — peace to their ashes — who, beheld through the mellowing influences of the glass of Time, appear much more interesting and desirable company than their unpicturesque de scendants who travel by railway in the same carriage with you for hours at a stretch and say not a word.

Why the railway should be so conducive to un mannerly and chilly reserve I cannot comprehend ; however, it may not be wholly to blame, for in America sociability reigns in the cars, and if you be so minded you may chat with your fellow-travellers all the while you journey on, with merely rests at meal times. But after this digression to return to my subject and Old England, permit me furthermore to discourse from time to time during our pleasant progress of quaint rural customs, curious folk-lore, local legends and wise sayings that still linger in the land, and to crave you not to fail to observe the sundry odd characters that, even in these con ventional days, may yet be encountered when travelling out of the beaten track, and generally permit me to do the honours of the charmingly beautiful and interesting line of country we shall traverse during our tour.

On previous journeys we had made London our starting-point. This, however, involved, both on the first day's outward stage and the last stage home ward, a tedious, intensely uninteresting, and un profitable drive through the mean and "long-drawn out " suburbs of that mighty province (or county, is it ? ) of smoke-begrimed bricks and mortar. This time, by way of change, we planned to start from Eastbourne, so that practically we could at once commence our drive in the real country. We had agreed that we would spend our holiday of three or four weeks exploring some portion of Southern England ; as to our route we had formed no precise plans, we merely had a sort of hazy notion that we would drive first northward to East Grinstead, and then on through Sussex, Hampshire, and Dorset shire, find our way possibly into Somerset, and so home through Wiltshire, returning by a different line of country, to be arranged when the time came.

How we carried out our plans the following pages will show ; we were purely on pleasure bent, and declined to be bound by any precise itinerary. Judg ing merely from the map, our course may probably AN A USPICIO US STAR T 7 appear without much plan or purpose. I will not here anticipate our exact route. The day we set forth upon our expedition happily proved to be all that we could desire ; the Fates smiled on us, and we felt duly grateful. Following the excellent example of that famous pre-railway traveller, the worthy Samuel Pepys of Diary renown, we "awoke betimes" to find, however, the sun already up before us shining cheerfully down from a fine summer cloud - dappled sky ; moreover, a rising barometer promised a continuance of such satisfactory conditions. Had we the ordering of the weather, it could not have been more to our liking.

Early in the morning the dog-cart was at our door in full travelling order (we had packed it over night), a list of everything that could possibly be required for use or comfort on the journey having been carefully thought over some time before, so that nothing was forgotten in the hurry of departure. Our farewells said, there was no further cause for delay, we were quickly in our places, the word was given, the traces tightened, and we found ourselves without any loss of time traversing at a brisk trot the tree-lined streets of Eastbourne. We "got away " (to use an expression in vogue in the good old coaching and posting days) by the Lewes road, — a rather hilly one at first it proved to be, — and in a short time the prosperous -looking yet withal un picturesque domain of modern villadom was, with small regret, left behind, and we reached the fresh and free open country.

Our road led us at a considerable elevation alongside of the smooth sloping Downs ; these flanked our way to the left in stately rounded masses ; to our right a great expanse of level land was spread out map-like beneath us, dotted here and there with sleepy hamlets and lonely farmsteads ; the silvery sparkle of still water in sluggish dykes, and a long white trail of evanishing steam from a passing train — speeding along in the feverish nine teenth-century haste — enlivened the restful monotony of green and gray which was bounded in the far distance by a low uneven line of faint blue hills. Glancing southwards and seawards the fine rounded sweep of Pevensey Bay (where the war-like Normans landed of old) came into view, with the many martello towers marshalled in orderly array along its shore, the white foam of the breaking waves being traceable far far away in curving parallels with the pebbly beach ; and beyond the bay, hazily indistinct, could just be discerned the bold cliffs above Hastings, the town itself being half hidden by a blue veil of its own smoke.

We called a short halt to enjoy the wide panorama of land and sea. Through our field-glasses we could make out Pevensey's ruined castle, a dark spot in the sun steeped landscape, and the uplands by Battle, where the Normans won them a kingdom : we looked upon historic ground ! It is refreshing to the eye of the town-dweller, after his usual limited and unlovely vision of house lined streets, to be enabled thus to range unrestrained over vast spaces of open and beautiful country like WINDMILLS 9 this. The man whose vision is for ever cramped is but too apt to have his mind cramped also. To see broadly is a great help to thinking broadly ; it ex pands one's: ideas. Looking down from some commanding height upon a far-reaching expanse of country, over hill and dale, and rock, and wood, and river, how poor and trivial seem even the greatest affairs of man, how paltry his ambitious aims, his strivings and struggles for more or less transient fame — but I am moralising, and that is a task best left for the priest in the pulpit.

Here and there in the landscape we noticed with delight several windmills plainly showing in the bright sunshine, their sails busily revolving round and round in the freshening breeze, now white in light, now gray in shade. It is curious how small a thing in a distant prospect will at once arrest attention if it only moves, that were it merely motionless would in all probability escape notice altogether. Windmills at work always give a cheerful feeling of life and movement to a landscape, and one can only regret that they are not more general features of the country-side, but nowadays, what with steam (which is so much more dependable than wind power) and farmers finding that cattle-raising is more profitable — or shall I say less unprofitable ? — than corn-growing, I am sadly afraid that the picturesque and artist-loved windmill is doomed to gradual extinction; certainly during our road travels for years past in various parts of England, covering altogether some thousands of miles of ground, we have come upon many such mills deserted and going the way of all uncared-for things, whilst during all that time and in all those many miles we have seen only one windmill in the course of erection, and this exception to the rule was impressed upon our memory by the rarity of the proceeding.

As we drove on we had a fine panoramic prospect of the long lines o'f the Downs rising and falling in apparently endless succession. This famous range of chalk hills has a subtle charm of curve, a dignity of modelled mass, and a grandeur yet grace of form all its own. The South Downs are " majestic," as Gilbert White has truly remarked, though some people who fail to realise that grandeur belonsrs to form as well as to size have sneered at the term as applied to their modest elevation. The Downs possess the majesty of mighty masses and of grand sweeping unbroken outlines ; they impress the artistic beholder by the expression of spaciousness and the idea of vast distances they convey ; the prospect looking along their level summits seems infinite ; ridge succeeds ridge endlessly, fading away in colour from green through gray to tenderest blue, till in the far horizon their outlines become dim and dreamy, and it is hard to distinguish between land and sky.

Surely there is a majesty in such vast, far-reaching visions of earth, and air, and sky, quite as much as in mere height ? There is a poetic glamour in the mystery of the far away, where all things seem possible, that appeals to me even more than the uprising snow-clad peak, and that makes the guide-book statement of so many thousand feet above sea-level seem vulgar, boastful, and absurd. SOUTH DOWN SCENERY 11 You cannot measure grandeur by feet, any more than you can purchase true art-work by the square yard. There is a breadth in the bold golden -green slopes of the Downs viewed in unshadowed sunshine that contrasts most effectively with the soft purple gray shadows of their vast hollows, and the shadows themselves possess a peculiar quality that I can only liken to a deep bloom, a something that cannot be defined in words, and can hardly be given in paint, and that is quite different and apart from the broken shadows of a steep mountain or fell side.