CHAPTER XIIIRAMBLES AROUND BRIDPORT

"'Come all you young fellows that carry a gun,Beware of late shooting when daylight is done;For 'tis little you reckon what hazards you run,I shot my true love at the setting of the sun.In a shower of rain, as my darling did hieAll under the bushes to keep herself dry,With her head in her apron, I thought her a swan,And I shot my true love at the setting of the sun.In the night the fair maid as a white swan appears:She says, O my true love, quick, dry up your tears,I freely forgive you, I have Paradise won;I was shot by my true love at the setting of the sun.'

"'Come all you young fellows that carry a gun,

Beware of late shooting when daylight is done;

For 'tis little you reckon what hazards you run,

I shot my true love at the setting of the sun.

In a shower of rain, as my darling did hie

All under the bushes to keep herself dry,

With her head in her apron, I thought her a swan,

And I shot my true love at the setting of the sun.

In the night the fair maid as a white swan appears:

She says, O my true love, quick, dry up your tears,

I freely forgive you, I have Paradise won;

I was shot by my true love at the setting of the sun.'

"You should have heard that song as I heard it on board an old-time schooner, when the ship's company all banged and roared heartily, and shouted in enormous voices. When they came to 'I was shot by my true love' the company would all join together in a great moan, and wag their heads in a most melancholy way. But there are no songs like that now. All this complicated machinery in ships has darkened men's minds and shut out the old songs."

A good many very interesting places may be cleared up by just trespassing a few miles into Devon when we leave Lyme Regis, and taking the main road to Axminster, a parish and market town on the River Axe. St Mary's Church is of ancient origin, and contains some objects of antiquarian interest. The other churches are modern. South of the town are the ruins of Newenham Abbey; its history is interesting. Seven miles north, Ford Abbey affords another attraction. Membury Castle (one mile south) and Weycroft are ancient Roman or Britishfortifications. It is believed that the battle of Brunanburgh,A.D.937, was fought near here.

The George Inn at Axminster, standing in a plot formed by George Street, Victoria Place and Lyme Street, is a noble old place with a spacious courtyard. The barn above the archway at the back of the inn is very picturesque, with mouldering red and purplish tiles and hand-wrought iron cleats. Three miles south of Axminster we come to Musbury—it was to see a thatcher at this village that I was tempted to make a short expedition into Devon. The ancient Church of St Michael has been largely rebuilt. It contains many interesting old monuments, chiefly to members of the family of the Drakes, of Ashe. Musbury Castle is a British or Roman camp. Ashe House, the former seat of the Drake family, is now a farm-house. The New Inn is an odd little place, with a grey and shining stone floor, and windows set deep in thick walls.

DRAKE MEMORIAL AT MUSBURY

Colyton is five miles south-west of Axminster in the picturesque valley of the River Coly, and three miles from the sea. The Parish Church of St Andrew contains much of great interest. The porch of the old vicarage house should be seen, with the inscription PEDITATIO TOTUM; MEDITATIO TOTUM, A.D. 1524, over the window. There is an ancient market-house here.The "Great House" is another old and interesting building. It was once the home of the Yonge family, and was built in the seventeenth century by John Yonge, a merchant adventurer who settled at Colyton, but it has been partly rebuilt, although the portion of the house which remains suggests something of the old building and contains some interesting carving. The Duke of Monmouth stayed here in 1680. There are interesting effigies of the Pole family in their chapel in the Church of St Andrew, which is fenced off with a stone screen erected by the vicar of Colyton, 1524-1544. The vicar was also Canon of Exeter, and his rebus figures prominently on the screen. The great tomb of Sir John Pole, buried in 1658, and Elizabeth his wife displays elaborate effigies, while the altar-tomb is that of William Pole, buried in 1587. Near by is a mural monument to his wife, Katherine, and another to Mary, wife of Sir William, the historian, and daughter of Sir W. Periham of Fulford. Both these ladies have their children kneeling round them. The author of the well-knownDescription of Devonis buried in the aisle, but there is no monument. When I was staying with the headmaster of Colyton Grammar School (an ancient building bearing the date 1612) some twenty years ago there were representatives of the knightly family of Poles among his pupils.

In the north aisle is the mausoleum of the Yonge family. Another interesting monument is an elaborate altar-tomb in the chancel with a recumbent female figure popularly known as "Little Choke-Bone," referring to Margaret Courtenay, daughter of William Earl of Devon, and Katherine, his wife, sixth daughter of Edward IV. She is said to have been choked by a fish-bone at Colcombe Castle in 1512.

The Courtenays, Earls of Devon, once held all the land in this neighbourhood, and their seat was at Colcombe Castle, hard by, for three hundred years, but Henry VIII. quarrelled with Henry Courtenay, Marquess of Exeter, and deprived him of his estates in 1538. It is a curious fact that the parish charities of Colyton are still mostly derived from these forfeited estates.

The ruins of Colcombe Castle lie about half-a-mile from the town, and are now used as a farm-house. Near here growsLobelia úrens, the "flower of the Axe," a rare British flower, in appearance very like the garden lobelia. Kilmington is said to bear, in the first syllable of its name, the trace of the great battle fought in the Axe Valley in Saxon times.

Another interesting excursion from Lyme might be taken to Lambert's Castle and FordAbbey. Ford can be reached by rail to Card Junction. The Abbey is about a mile east of the station. The first long climb out of Lyme by the Axminster road to Hunter's Lodge Inn is not encouraging. From this inn the road runs straight ahead along the road to Marshwood, passing Monkton Wyld Cross, and gradually ascending to Lambert's Castle, which is eight hundred and forty-two feet above the sea-level. The Castle is an important British and Roman camp. A fair and horse-races are still held here twice a year, and a magnificent view over the Char valley is obtained from this point. Pilsdon Pen can be reached by the Beaminster Road, which can be picked up two miles north-east from Lambert's Castle. At Birdsmoor Gate, two miles beyond, is the Rose and Crown Inn and a crossing of the ways. The road to Ford Abbey and Chard swings round to the left, but if the pilgrim wishes to view the home of Wordsworth and his sister, he must change his route and proceed along the Crewkerne road for half-a-mile until Racedown Farm is reached. Dorothy Wordsworth described it as "the place dearest to my recollections upon the whole surface of the island; the first home I had"; and she wrote with great feeling about the charm and beauty of the neighbourhood.

Charmouth is a pleasant walk of two miles from Lyme Regis, but the road goes over a very steep hill at the top of which is a cutting known as the "New Passage," the "Devil's Bellows," where in windy weather there is a chance of being carried off one's feet. The village consists of one long street situated above the mouth of theChar, the leading feature of the view being the heights which hedge in the valley, particularly those from which the road has just descended. It is an ancient place, which still preserves the memory of two sanguinary battles between the Danes and Saxons. In the first the Saxons were commanded by Egbert, in the second by Ethelwolf. In both the Danes were victorious, but so crippled in the fight that they were obliged to retreat to their ships. At Charmouth, too, in the attempted escape of Charles II. to France, occurred the incident which so nearly led to the discovery of the fugitive. A plan had been concerted with the captain of a merchantman trading to Lyme that a boat at a particular hour of the night should be sent to the beach at Charmouth. Charles rode hither under the guidance of Lord Wilmot and Colonel Wyndham and rested at the little inn to await the appointed time. The vessel, however, from unforeseen circumstances, was unable to leave the harbour, and the fugitivewas obliged to give up the enterprise and to pass the night in the village. The next morning it was found that his horse had cast a shoe, and the village blacksmith was summoned to repair the loss. This was a curious fellow, whose suspicions were aroused on observing that the old shoes were fastened in a manner peculiar to the north of England. The hostler, who was a Republican soldier, carried the information to the Puritan minister. From the minister it went to the magistrate, and from the magistrate to the captain of a troop of horse, who soon galloped with his men in pursuit. Fortunately for the king, they took the wrong road, and he escaped.

The inn at which Charles rested is still standing. Part of it is now the Congregational Manse. The front of the house has now been entirely modernised, but the interior has retained all the quaint features of the Carolean period, and here one may still see heavy ceilings and fine oak-panellings. In the portion which is now a cottage a large chimney (which is said to have served as a hiding-place) and the "king's bedroom" are still pointed out to visitors. Until comparatively recent times the inn was still providing ale to thirsty rustics and was called the "Queen's Head," and several old natives can remember when the landlord displayed a sign on which was inscribed:

"Here in this house was lodged King Charles,Come in, sirs, you may venture;For here is entertainment goodFor churchman or dissenter."

"Here in this house was lodged King Charles,

Come in, sirs, you may venture;

For here is entertainment good

For churchman or dissenter."

In 1902 a commemoration tablet was placed on the house. Similar tablets have been placed on Ellesdon Farm, the George Inn (now a shop), Bridport, and on the George Inn, Broadwindsor, at each of which Charles II. took refreshment or a night's lodgment during his passage through Dorset.

Two lanes, one turning off near the top of the straight descent, and one just below the church, lead in a few minutes to the sea. The beach is sand, shingle and rock, and supports a coastguard station, bathing machines and a few fishing-boats which are launched from the beach. There are cliffs on each side of the bay, and here the Char, "a small, irregular, alder-fringed, playful river, full of strange fish such as inland streams yield not," mingles very modestly with the sea. The river rises under Lewesdon and Pilesdon, about six miles distant in a direct line. Three miles north of Charmouth is Corrie Castle (King's Castle), supposed to have been the camp of Egbert when he fought with the Danes.

The cliffs at Charmouth exhibit a fine section of the strata and abound in interesting fossilremains. These include the bones of those colossal reptiles the ichthyosaurus and plesiosaurus, of the pterodactyl, and numerous fish; and, among other shells, those of the ammonite and belemnite, which are found in great quantities on Golden Cap. The lias contains much bituminous matter and iron pyrites, which have frequently taken fire after heavy rains. At a bed of gravel near the mouth of the river the remains of an elephant and rhinoceros have been discovered.

The tourist must look for the relic of the "Queen's Head" next above a chapel and opposite the picturesque George Inn. I think that the quiet folk who occupy the genuine inn where the king stopped must often breathe mild maledictions over the heads of inquisitive pilgrims who peep and peer into their windows, and I suspect that they have begged mine host of the George to claim for his house the honour of sheltering Charles Stuart from the troops. At all events the George is pointed out to the visitor as the great historical attraction, in spite of the fact that it was built long after the time King Charles was in hiding in Dorset.

I, who am a pagan child,Who know how dying Plato smiled,And how Confucius lessoned kings,And of the Buddha's wanderings,Find God in very usual things.

I, who am a pagan child,

Who know how dying Plato smiled,

And how Confucius lessoned kings,

And of the Buddha's wanderings,

Find God in very usual things.

Toller Porcorum (Toller of the Swine) has a railway station on the Bridport branch line and is two miles from Maiden Newton. The name is explanatory, and great herds of swine were once bred here. The affix serves to distinguish this Toller from its next neighbour, Toller Fratrum (Toller of the Brethren,i.e.monks), which is one mile from Maiden Newton station. The mansion of Sir Thomas Fulford still stands and is a fine instance of early seventeenth-century domestic architecture. The very first things I noticed about this house were the tall, narrow, thick windows—windows that any man might look upon with covetous eyes. Such tall stone-mullioned windows are an enchantment, and, as Hilaire Belloc says, it is the duty of every man to keep up the high worship of noble windows till he comes down to the windowless grave. A buildingwith a thatched roof near the house is a refectory, and appropriately cut in stone on the wall will be noticed a monk eating bread.

At Wynford Eagle, two miles south, the church still preserves a curious tympanum of a Norman door. It shows two ferocious and unspeakable-looking beasts, who are about to fight. They are said to be wyverns—which are heraldic monsters with two wings, two legs and tapering bodies. The most remarkable discovery ever made in the vicinity of Wynford Eagle was recorded by Aubrey in connection with the opening of a barrow at Ferndown. The diggers came upon "a place like an Oven, curiously clay'd round; and in the midst of it a fair Urn full of very firm bones, with a great quantity of black ashes under it. And what is most remarkable; one of the diggers putting his hand into the Oven when first open'd, pull'd it back hastily, not being able to endure theheat; and several others doing the like, affirmed it to be hot enough to bake bread.... Digging further they met with sixteen Urns more, but not in Ovens; and in the middle one with ears; they were all full of some bones and black ashes."

The house of the Sydenhams still stands at Wynford Eagle. On the highest point of the central gable a fierce-looking stone eagle arrests our attention, and under it is carved the date 1630.

Rampisham is three miles south of Evershot, and the churchyard contains an ancient stone cross, the decayed condition of which will test the patience and ingenuity of those who desire to satisfy themselves of the accuracy of Britton's description of the sculpture—namely, that it represents "the stoning of St Stephen, the Martyrdom of St Edmund, the Martyrdom of St Thomas à Becket, and two crowned figures sitting at a long table, to whom a man kneels on one knee."

The inn called the "Tiger's Head" is of great antiquity; it has stooped and settled down with age, and, within, the low-ceiled rooms seem saturated with influence, and weighty with the wearing of men's lives.

Cross-in-Hand stands on the verge of the down, which breaks away precipitously to the vale where Yetminster lies. A bleached and desolate upland, it took its name from a stone pillar which stood there, a strange, rude monolith, from a stratum unknown in any local quarry, on which was roughly carved a human hand. Differing accounts were given of its history and purport. Some authorities stated that a devotional cross had once formed the complete erection thereon, of which the present relic was but the stump; others that the stone as it stood was entire, andthat it had been fixed there to mark a boundary or place of meeting.

It was on this stone that Alec D'Urberville made Tess swear not to tempt him by her charms. "This was once a holy cross," said he. "Relics are not in my creed, but I fear you at moments." It was with a sense of painful dread that Tess, after leaving this spot, learned from a rustic that the stone was not a holy cross. "Cross—no; 'twere not a cross! 'Tis a thing of ill-omen, miss. It was put up in wuld times by the relations of a malefactor, who was tortured there by nailing his hands to a post and afterwards hung. The bones lie underneath. They say he sold his soul to the devil, and that he walks at times."

Deep down below is the sequestered village of Batcombe. An uncanny story attaches itself to a battered old Gothic tomb in Batcombe churchyard. The tomb stands near the north wall of the church, and it is said to be the resting-place of one Conjuring Minterne, who Hardy in one of his novels tells us left directions, after having quarrelled with his vicar, that he was to be buried "neither in the church nor out of it." It is said that this eccentric injunction was complied with, but the tomb has since been moved. What deed Minterne had committed that prevented him from lying quietly in the usual grave like the othergood folk of Batcombe who had departed this life no man can tell. All the rustics could tell me was they had heard he had sold himself to Old Nick, and that his request to be buried in such a unique manner was a ruse to prevent his master "the old 'un" from getting him when he died.

In bygone days the "conjurer" was an important character in the Dorset village, and he was generally of good reputation, and supposed to be gifted with supernatural power, which he exercised for good. By his incantations and ceremonies he cured anything from inflamed eyes to lung disease. A Wessex dealer in magic and spells is mentioned in Hardy's story,The Withered Arm. He lived in a valley in the remotest part of Egdon Heath:

"He did not profess his remedial practices openly, or care anything about their continuance, his direct interests being those of a dealer in furze, turf, 'sharp sand,' and other local products. Indeed, he affected not to believe largely in his own powers, and when warts that had been shown him for cure miraculously disappeared—which it must be owned they infallibly did—he would say lightly, 'Oh, I only drink a glass of grog upon 'em—perhaps it's all chance,' and immediately turn the subject."

But to return to Minterne. The present vicarof Batcombe church—Rev. Joseph Pulliblank—thinks the fore-shortened stone of Minterne's tomb, which is square instead of the usual oblong, gives some support to the story of the "conjurer" being buried with his feet under the masonry of the church wall. The following paragraph is also from some notes kindly sent to me by the Rev. Joseph Pulliblank:—

"Batcombe Church, originally Saxon, has only two points which testify to the fact—(1) A Saxon font inside, (2) a small portion of Saxon masonry worked into the outside south wall.

"In modern times Batcombe was the seat of 'the Little Commonwealth' settlement founded by the Earl of Sandwich and run on the lines of the 'George Junior Republic' in America—owing to financial and other difficulties it came to an end during the war."

In the church are wall tablets to the Minterne family: one to a John Minterne who died in 1716, as well as a John Minterne who was buried in 1592. There is a monument to Bridget Minterne in Yetminster church, who was the wife of John Minterne of Batcombe. The inscription runs:

"Here lyeth y body of Bridgett Minterne wife of John Minterne of Batcombe esq., second daughter of Sir John Brown of Frampton Kt. who died y 19th July Ano Domini 1649."

Which of the ancient possessors of Batcombe can claim the honour of being the famous Conjuring Minterne I was unable to discover. Little remains of his history. We only know that he was always kind, and knew how to ride well, for he once jumped his horse from the crest of the down into the village, knocking one of the pinnacles off the church tower on his way. He would not talk much about wizardry, but would rather sing songs. No doubt Minterne was a very lovable fellow!

In Rudyard Kipling's "Marklake Witches" (Rewards and Fairies) the Sussex "conjurer" is represented by Jerry Gamm the witchmaster, and he is one of the most striking examples in literature of the rustic astrologer and doctor. The following charm—a very excellent one, too—was Jerry Gamm's charm against a disease of an obstinate and deadly character:

"You know the names of the Twelve Apostles, dearie? You say them names, one by one, before your open window, rain or storm, wet or shine, five times a day fasting. But mind you, 'twixt every name you draw in your breath through your nose, right down to your pretty toes, as long and as deep as you can, and let it out slow through your pretty little mouth. There's virtue for your cough in those names spoke thatway. And I'll give you something you can see, moreover. Here's a stick of maple which is the warmest tree in the wood. It's cut one inch long for you every year," Jerry said. "That's sixteen inches. You set it in your window so that it holds up the sash, and thus you keep it, rain or shine, or wet or fine, day and night. I've said words over it which will have virtue on your complaints."

Bridport lies two miles inland from the sea and its unheard-of harbour of West Bay. We first hear of the town in the reign of Edward the Confessor, when it could boast a mint, a priory of monks and two hundred houses. In Saxon days it was probably a place of some importance, owing to the fact of it being the port to the River Brit, but its early history is without any distinctive mark or important event. When Charles II. arrived at Bridport in his hasty flight from Charmouth the town was full of soldiers, but the royal party went boldly to an inn (theGeorge, now a shop, incorporating part of the old building opposite the Town Hall) and mixed with the company. Every stranger was mistrusted by the troops, however, and Charles and his suite quitted the town after a hasty meal. They retired by the main Dorchester road and took a lane leading to Broadwindsor and so escaped. Lee Lane, amile to the east of Bridport, is said to be the actual scene where the royal party retreated to security.

The first thing the pilgrim will notice when entering Bridport is the generous width of the streets, and it is a curious fact that the local industries have left their stamp on the town in this way. The town was always famed for its hempen manufactures, and it furnished most of the cordage for the royal fleet in the good old times of "wooden walls." It was for this reason the roads were made wider—to allow each house to have a "rope walk." At one time the town enjoyed almost a monopoly in the manufacture of cordage. Gallows' ropes also were made here, hence the grim retort often heard in Wessex: "You'll live to be stabbed with a Bridport dagger!"

George Barnet, "a gentleman-burgher of Port Bredy," in Hardy'sFellow Townsmen, was descended from the hemp and rope merchants of Bridport.

The church is fifteenth-century and contains a cross-legged effigy of a mail-clad knight, probably one of the De Chideocks. The old building was restored in 1860, when two bays were added to the nave. Thomas Hardy waxes bitterly jocular over this piece of restoration: "The church had had such a tremendous joke played upon it bysome facetious restorer or other as to be scarce recognisable by its dearest old friends."

West Bay and Bridport are scenes in Hardy's tale,Fellow Townsmen, where they are dealt with under the name of "Port Bredy," from the name of the little River Bredy, which here flows into the sea. The town mainly consists of one long highway, divided at West Street and East Street by the clock tower of the Town Hall, which forms the very hub of commercial liveliness, with the fine old inns and quaint shops about it. The Greyhound Hotel is a place very much favoured by travellers, and for old-fashioned fare and comfort there is no inn in England which could better it. Mr Trump, the broad-shouldered landlord, is one of the old school, a man of genial humour and generous strength, and his popularity reaches well over the borders of Dorset. He is a great lover of horses, and I stood by his side as he surveyed a manifestation of Divine Energy in the form of a horse of spirit and tremendous power owned by a local farmer. "Walter" Trump took off his hat to the fine animal and turned to me, saying: "If there are no horses in heaven I don't want to go there."

South Street turns down to the quay near the Greyhound, and in the summer traps will be usually found at this corner to take one down to the sea.

The Literary and Scientific Institute, in East Street, opposite the Bull Hotel, contains a number of coins and some natural history exhibits, as well as a library.

The Conservative Club has been established in a fine old Tudor building in South Street, on the opposite side of which is another ancient house called Dungeness. At the back of a house on the south side of the East Bridge is a portion of the old Hospital of St John. The Bull has been modernised, but it is the Black Bull where George Barnet put up on his return to his native town, inFellow Townsmen.

Between the Town Hall and the Greyhound is a passage known as Bucky Doo, which the Rev. R. Grosvenor Bartelot traces to "Bocardo," "originally a syllogism in logic, which was here, as at Oxford, applied to the prison, because, just as a Bocardo syllogism always ended in a final negative, so did a compulsory visit to the Bocardo lock-up generally mean a closer acquaintance with the disciplinary use of 'the Bridport dagger' and a final negative to the drama of life."

If the pilgrim wishes to make a pleasant excursion on foot to West Bay he must take a track that goes round the churchyard and follow the riverside footpath on the right bank of the stream. Thus we arrive at Bridport Quay andWest Bay. The harbour never became of any importance owing to the microscopic shingle which has always obstructed and choked its mouth. Everywhere the pilgrim turns he sees hillocks of this waste sand which has prevented a willing port from serving its country. The fact that Bridport was not called upon to provide any ships either for the siege of Calais in 1347 or for the fleet to oppose the Spanish Armada may be accepted as proof that the burgesses of the town possessed no vessels large enough for fighting purposes. So the little harbour fell into indolence and sluggishness, thus bearing out the truth of the old saying: "That which does not serve dies."

The place is picturesque in an odd and casual way, and a scattering of quaint old dwellings contrast with a row of new lodging-houses which are very showy (rory-tory the Dorset rustic would style them!) in spite of their affectation of the dandy-go-rusty tiles of antiquity. A little group of fishermen may always be seen loafing and smoking by the thatched Bridport Arms Hotel, and the only time these good fellows ever show any quickening to life is when some barque, taking unusual risks, allows itself to be towed and winched between the narrow pier-heads. At such times the spirit of ships and men departedseems to enter into them, and they shout and heave and sing randy-dandy deep-sea songs, and use much profanity.

The shingle is part of one of the remarkable features of the Dorset coast—the Chesil Beach or Chesil Bank, which runs as far as Portland. Chesil is Old English forpebble, the old word being found in Chesilton in Dorset and Chislehurst in Kent. The pebbles gradually grow coarser as one progresses in a south-easterly direction, so that in olden days the smugglers, running their "tubs" ashore, at venture, in the fog or during the night, knew the exact stretch of bank they had arrived on by taking a handful of shingle to examine. The attractions of West Bay are good bathing, good sea fishing and good boating, for the curious little harbour is a particularly pleasing haunt for amateur sailors.

There are many pleasant short walks in the neighbourhood of Bridport and West Bay. Eype is reached from Bridport by field paths passing through Allington and the Lovers' Grove. A bridle-way takes one to Eype church, standing on the ridge, whence it leads through the village down a deep hollow to the beach. Continuing over Thorncombe Beacon, we reach Seatown, which is a seaside branch of Chideock. "Chiddick," as any Wessex man of the soil will pronouncethe name, is a little less than a mile inland on the Lyme Regis road. The Anchor Inn at Seatown is an old place of entertainment I have not personally visited, but a man who knows his Dorset informs me that it is a place where the centuries mingle; with black beams in the ceiling, oak settles, shining with long usage, and ironwork full of the rough simplicity of the Elizabethan forge. I shall call there next time I fare Dorset way, if only to stand in the great bay window which looks out to the sea. Such buildings remind one, not of decay but of immutableness. Perhaps even the summons of the dark Reaper would not sound quite so sharp in an ancient inn. There are less perfect places one might die in, and if I had my wish I would choose to pass away in an inn, where all my regrets would be arrested by the stamping of feet on the sanded floor beneath, and the ancient and untutored voices of farmhands and ploughmen singing some lively song.

Beaminster is six miles to the north of Bridport, and is reached by a pleasant walk, passing on the way the little village of Melplash.

It is a sleepy country town, deeply seated among hills, near the head-waters of theBirt, which flows through it. It is a place of some antiquity, but not remarkable for much, if we except its sufferings by fire. In 1644, when Prince Maurice was quartered here, it was burnt completely to the ground, having been fired by a drunken soldier. The greater part of it was a second time destroyed in 1684, and again in 1788.

Very prominent landmarks of the Beaminster district are Pilsdon Pen and Lewesdon Hill, two eminences of green sand remarkable for their likeness to one another. The singularity of their appearance has naturally excited much attention. Sailors, whom they serve as a landmark, call them theCow and the Calf; the Rev. William Crowe has sung the praises of Lewesdon in a descriptive poem, and the two hills together have givenrise to a proverbial saying current in this country and applied to neighbours who are not acquainted:

"... as much akinAs Lew'son Hill to Pil'son Pen."

"... as much akin

As Lew'son Hill to Pil'son Pen."

These hills command a charming prospect, and Pilsdon is further interesting as the site of an ancient camp, of oval form, encompassed by three strong ramparts and ditches. It is the highest point in the county, nine hundred and thirty-four feet above the sea. Crowe'sLewesdon Hillwas much admired by Rogers, who says in hisTable Talk: "When travelling in Italy I made two authors my constant study for versification, Milton and Crowe."

Beaminster is in a centre of a district famous for its great dairies, flowers, bees and rural industries, and here is produced the famous Double Dorset and Blue Vinny cheese which has always a place on the table of the true Dorset family. The word "vinny" means mouldy; thus when the rustic thinks his cheese is in a fine ripe condition he will be likely to remark: "This yer cheese is butvul now; tez vinnied through and through." The same word is also used in Devonshire for "bad-tempered," thus, "You vinnied little mullybrub, git out of my sight this minut!"The large dairies where the cheeses are made are called "soap factories" by the facetious natives, and one frequently meets motor lorries grinding up the sharp hills beneath the burden of a hundred or so freshly pressed rounds of cheese.

In spite of the town's sufferings by fire the grand old church has fortunately always escaped. It is approached by a lane at the corner of the market-place. The pride of Beaminster is the old church tower, which was built in 1520. A native said to me: "Didee ever see zich a comfortable-looking old tower as that be, and I knaws you won't see more trinkrums on any church in the county." By "trinkrums" I suppose he meant the gargoyles, pinnacles and profusion of delicate carvings for which the gracious amber-coloured tower is justly famous. The church itself cannot vie with the tower for elegance or magnificence. Indeed the church is quite a dull-looking place. However, the nave, arcade and a squint from the south aisle into the chancel are Early English. The pulpit is Jacobean. There are two handsome monuments to members of the Strode family and some memorial windows to the Oglanders and other benefactors. Affixed to the pavement of the south aisle is an early brass, with this inscription in Old English characters:

"Pray for the soule of Sr. John Tone whos body lyth berid under this tombe on whos soule Jhu have mercy a patrnostr& ave."

Sir John was a priest, and probably a Knight of Malta, who died in Beaminster while he was on a pilgrimage through Dorset.

The church is the scene of a "well-authenticated" apparition. Down to the year 1748 the free school (of which the Rev. Samuel Hood, father of Admirals Viscount Hood and Lord Bridport, was at one time master) was held in one of the galleries, and there, on "Saturday, June 22, 1728," did one John Daniel appear at full noonday to five of his school-fellows, "between three weeks and a month after his burial." The reason was plain when his body was dug up and duly examined, for it was found that he had been strangled.

Letherbury, about a mile south of Beaminster, is a pleasant walk down the Brit valley, by the river-side. On the road isParnham, a noble mansion of the Tudor period standing in a well wooded and watered demesne. From the Parnhams this estate came to the Strodes, passing thence in 1764 to the Oglanders. Other old houses in the neighbourhood of Beaminster areStrode,MelplashandMapperton, and the whole district bears the marks of long and prosperous agricultural occupation in the old-fashioned dayswhen "squire" and tenant lived and died in semi-feudal relationship on the estate which the one owned and the other rented.

Mapperton House belongs to the time of Henry VIII. In the reign of that sovereign the lord of the manor was Robert Morgan, who had the following patent granted to him:—"Forasmoche as we bee credibly informed that our welbiloved Robert Morgan Esquier, for diverse infirmities which he hathe in his hedde, cannot convenyently, without his grete danngier, be discovered of the same. Whereupon wee in tendre consideration thereof have by these presents licensed him to use and wear his bonnet on his hed at all tymys, as wel in our presence as elsewher at his libertie."

Poor old Robert! Perhaps his Dorset stubbornness had as much to do with his wearing a "bonnet at all tymys" as the "infirmities in his hedde." But he was well able to take care of himself, for he built this beautiful manor-house and recorded the fact in the great hall:

"Robt. Morgan and Mary his wife built this house in their own lifetime, at their own charge and cost.

What they spent, that they lent:What they gave, that they have:What they left, that they lost."

What they spent, that they lent:

What they gave, that they have:

What they left, that they lost."

Abide.Cannot abide a thing is, not able to suffer or put up with it.Addle.Attle is a term used in mining, and signifies the rejected and useless rubbish. Hence an addled egg is an egg unfit for use.Aft, now only used as a sea term, but anciently with degrees of comparison, as "after, aftest."Agate, open-mouthed attention; hearkening with eagerness. "He was allagate," eager to hear what was said.Alare, a short time ago: in common use.Anan.A Shakespearean expression formerly used by the Dorset rustics when they wished to have a repetition of what had been said; but no one now uses it.Backalong, homeward.Ballyrag, to scold.Banging-gert, very large.Barken, an enclosed place, as a rick-barken, a rick-yard. In Sussex a yard or enclosure near a house is called a "barton," from barley; and tun, an enclosure.Barm, yeast.Bayte, to beat, or thrash."A wumman,A spenyel,And a walnut-tree,The oftener yu bayte 'emBetter they'll be."Blare, to shout loudly."Chillern pick up words as pigeons pease,And blare them again as God shall please."Brath, the ancient Cornish name for a mastiff dog. Perhaps this accounts for the common expression, "a broth of a boy," meaning "a stout dog of a boy"—a sturdy fellow.Buck, that peculiar infection which in summer sometimes gets into a dairy and spoils the cream and butter; a sign of gross negligence and want of skill, and not easily to be eradicated.Bumpkin, a common term for a clumsy, uncouth man. But whence the word?—for it is also applied to a part of a ship where the foretack is fastened down. The wordbumpmeans a protuberance, a prominence: tobumpagainst a thing is a local term for striking oneself clumsily against it.Butt, a straw beehive."A butt of bees in MayIs worth a guinea any day;A butt of bees in JuneIs worth a silver spoon;A butt of bees in JulyIsn't worth a fly."Chitter, thin, folded up. It is applied to a thin and furrowed face, by way of ridicule. Such a one is said to be "chitter-faced." The long and folded milts or testes of some fishes are called "chitterlins," as were the frills at the bosom of shirts when they were so worn. The entrails of a pig cleaned and boiled are common food in Wiltshire, and the dish is called "chitterlings."Churer, an occasional workman. Char, to do household work in the absence of a domestic servant as a charwoman. In Dorset they say "one good choor deserves another," instead of one good turn, etc.Click-handed, left-handed.Cloam, common earthenware.Clush, to lie down close to the ground, to stoop low down.Clusty, close and heavy; particularly applied to bread not well fermented, and therefore closely set. Also applied to a potato that is not mealy.Coccabelles, icicles.Condididdle, to filch away, to convey anything away by trickery.Craking, complaining."I, Anthony James Pye Molley,Can burn, take, sink, and destroy;There's only one thing I can't do, on my life!And that is, to stop the craking tongue of my wife."Crummy, fat, corpulent. "A fine crummy old fellow."Daddick, rotten wood.Dew-bit, breakfast.Dout, to extinguish.Downargle, to argue in an overbearing manner.Drattle you!A corruption of the irreverent oath, "God throttle you."Dubbin o' drenk, a pot of ale.Durns, door-posts.Ebbet, the common lizard, commonly called the "eft," which may be a corruption of this word. The wordeftsignifies speedy or quick.Escaped.A person is said to be just escaped when his understanding is only just enough to warrant his being free from constraint of the tutelage of his friends.EtherorEdder, a hedge; also the twisted wands with which a "stake hedge" is made. They have a rhyme in Dorset on the durability of a "stake ether":"An elder stake and black-thorn etherWill make a hedge to last for ever."Fags!or,Aw Fegs!An interjection. Indeed! Truly!Fenigy, to run away secretly, or so slip off as to deceive expectation; deceitfully to fail in a promise. It is most frequently applied to cases where a man has shown appearances of courtship to a woman, and then has left her without any apparent reason, and without any open quarrel.Fess, proud, vain. "Lukee her agot a new bonnet. Why, her's as fess as a paycock." Mrs Durbeyfield uses this word in Hardy'sTess.Flaymerry, a merry-making, or what is now vulgarly called "a spree," but with an innocent meaning, an excursion for amusement.Gabbern.Gloomy, comfortless rooms and houses are "gabbern."Galley-bagger, a person fond of gadding about.Gallied, scared. Jonathan Kail the farm-hand at Talbothay's uses this word (see Hardy'sTess).Gallyvanting, going from home."Then for these flagons of silver fine,Even they shall have no praise of mine;For when my lord or lady be going to dine,He sends them out to be filled with wine,But his man goes gallyvanting away,Because they are precious, and fine, and gay;But if the wine had been order'd in a leather bottel,The man would have come back, and all been well."Gigglet, a merry young girl, one who shows her folly by a disposition to grin and laugh for no cause. It is used as a term of slight and contempt, and commonly to a young girl. Gigglet-market, a hiring-place for servants. From time immemorial, to within the last sixty years, on Lady Day young girls in Dorset and Devon were accustomed to stand in the market-place awaiting a chance of being hired as servants.Gu-ku, cuckoo."The gu-ku is a merry bird,She sings as she flies;She brings us good tidings,She tells us no lies.She sucks little birds' eggsTo make her voice clear;And when she sings 'gu-ku'The summer is near."Hadge, hedge."Love thy neighbour—but dawnt pull down thy hadge."Holt, hold."When you are an anvil, holt you still,When you are a hammer, strike your fill."Hozeburd, a person of bad character. "Jack Dollop, a 'hore's bird of a fellow," is the hero of a story related by Dairyman Crick in Hardy'sTess.Klip, a sudden smart blow, but not a heavy one. It is most usually applied to a "klipunder the ear." Of late the wordklipperis grown into use to describe a smart-sailing vessel, one that sails very swiftly, with some distant reference to the same idea.Knap, prominent. It is sometimes applied to the prominent part of a hill; but it is more frequently used as significant of the form of a person's knees when they are distorted towards each other, and which some people have chosen to term knock-kneed.Lasher, a large thing, of any sort. The meaning sought to be conveyed appears to be that this thing beats or excels every other. The opinion that any object which excels another is able to beat,lashor inflict violence on that other is a strange but not uncommon vulgar one.Lof, unwilling."Dawntee be like old Solomon Wise—'Lof tu go tu beydAnd lof to rise.'Cuz then you'll soon be'Out tu elbaws,Out tu toes,Out ov money,An out ov cloase.'"Main, very. I remember once hearing a Dorset thatcher say:"I be main fammled. I be so hungry I could welly eat the barn tiles."Mommet, a scarecrow. SeeTess of the D'Urbervilles: "Had it anything to do with father's making such a mommet of himself in thik carriage?"Nitch, a bundle of reed, straw or wood. "He's got a nitch"—he is drunk.Peg, pig. "Tez time tu watch out when you're getting all you want. Fattening pegs ain't 'ardly in luck!"At a tithe dinner a farmer in giving the Royal toast said:"The King, God bless him! May he be plaized to send us more pegs and less parsons."Stubberds, delicious apples."Did you say the stars were worlds, Tess?""Yes.""All like ours?""I don't know; but I think so. They sometimes seem to be like the apples on our stubbard-tree. Most of them splendid and sound—a few blighted.""Which do we live on—a splendid one or a blighted one?""A blighted one." (See Thomas Hardy'sTess.)Stugged, stuck in the mud."He that will not merry beWith a pretty girl by the fire,I wish he was a-top o' DartmoorA-stugged in the mire."Squab pie, a pie in favour in Devon and Dorset:"Mutton, onions, apples and doughMake a good pie as any I know."Ingredients.—3 lb. mutton or pork cutlets, 6 large apples sliced, 2 large onions, ¼ lb. salt fat bacon cut small, 2 oz. castor sugar, ½ pint of mutton broth, pepper and salt to taste. Place these in layers in a deep pie-dish, cover with rich paste and bake for an hour and a half, or place the whole in a crock and stew an hour and a half. Serve piping hot. I have seen clotted cream served and eaten with this "delicacy."Squab, the youngest or weakest pig of the litter. The London costermonger speaks of the youngest member of his family as the "squab."Withwind, the wild convolvulus.Withy, the willow-tree. They say in Wiltshire, in reference to the very rapid growth of the willow, that "a withy tree will buy a horse before an oak will buy a bridle and saddle." The willow will often grow twelve feet in a season.Wizzened, shrivelled, withered: as "a wizzened apple," "a wizzened-faced woman."Wosbird.A term of reproach, the meaning of which appears to be unknown to those who use it. It is evidently a corruption of whore's-bird.

Abide.Cannot abide a thing is, not able to suffer or put up with it.

Addle.Attle is a term used in mining, and signifies the rejected and useless rubbish. Hence an addled egg is an egg unfit for use.

Aft, now only used as a sea term, but anciently with degrees of comparison, as "after, aftest."

Agate, open-mouthed attention; hearkening with eagerness. "He was allagate," eager to hear what was said.

Alare, a short time ago: in common use.

Anan.A Shakespearean expression formerly used by the Dorset rustics when they wished to have a repetition of what had been said; but no one now uses it.

Backalong, homeward.

Ballyrag, to scold.

Banging-gert, very large.

Barken, an enclosed place, as a rick-barken, a rick-yard. In Sussex a yard or enclosure near a house is called a "barton," from barley; and tun, an enclosure.

Barm, yeast.

Bayte, to beat, or thrash.

"A wumman,A spenyel,And a walnut-tree,The oftener yu bayte 'emBetter they'll be."

"A wumman,

A spenyel,

And a walnut-tree,

The oftener yu bayte 'em

Better they'll be."

Blare, to shout loudly.

"Chillern pick up words as pigeons pease,And blare them again as God shall please."

"Chillern pick up words as pigeons pease,

And blare them again as God shall please."

Brath, the ancient Cornish name for a mastiff dog. Perhaps this accounts for the common expression, "a broth of a boy," meaning "a stout dog of a boy"—a sturdy fellow.

Buck, that peculiar infection which in summer sometimes gets into a dairy and spoils the cream and butter; a sign of gross negligence and want of skill, and not easily to be eradicated.

Bumpkin, a common term for a clumsy, uncouth man. But whence the word?—for it is also applied to a part of a ship where the foretack is fastened down. The wordbumpmeans a protuberance, a prominence: tobumpagainst a thing is a local term for striking oneself clumsily against it.

Butt, a straw beehive.

"A butt of bees in MayIs worth a guinea any day;A butt of bees in JuneIs worth a silver spoon;A butt of bees in JulyIsn't worth a fly."

"A butt of bees in May

Is worth a guinea any day;

A butt of bees in June

Is worth a silver spoon;

A butt of bees in July

Isn't worth a fly."

Chitter, thin, folded up. It is applied to a thin and furrowed face, by way of ridicule. Such a one is said to be "chitter-faced." The long and folded milts or testes of some fishes are called "chitterlins," as were the frills at the bosom of shirts when they were so worn. The entrails of a pig cleaned and boiled are common food in Wiltshire, and the dish is called "chitterlings."

Churer, an occasional workman. Char, to do household work in the absence of a domestic servant as a charwoman. In Dorset they say "one good choor deserves another," instead of one good turn, etc.

Click-handed, left-handed.

Cloam, common earthenware.

Clush, to lie down close to the ground, to stoop low down.

Clusty, close and heavy; particularly applied to bread not well fermented, and therefore closely set. Also applied to a potato that is not mealy.

Coccabelles, icicles.

Condididdle, to filch away, to convey anything away by trickery.

Craking, complaining.

"I, Anthony James Pye Molley,Can burn, take, sink, and destroy;There's only one thing I can't do, on my life!And that is, to stop the craking tongue of my wife."

"I, Anthony James Pye Molley,

Can burn, take, sink, and destroy;

There's only one thing I can't do, on my life!

And that is, to stop the craking tongue of my wife."

Crummy, fat, corpulent. "A fine crummy old fellow."

Daddick, rotten wood.

Dew-bit, breakfast.

Dout, to extinguish.

Downargle, to argue in an overbearing manner.

Drattle you!A corruption of the irreverent oath, "God throttle you."

Dubbin o' drenk, a pot of ale.

Durns, door-posts.

Ebbet, the common lizard, commonly called the "eft," which may be a corruption of this word. The wordeftsignifies speedy or quick.

Escaped.A person is said to be just escaped when his understanding is only just enough to warrant his being free from constraint of the tutelage of his friends.

EtherorEdder, a hedge; also the twisted wands with which a "stake hedge" is made. They have a rhyme in Dorset on the durability of a "stake ether":

"An elder stake and black-thorn etherWill make a hedge to last for ever."

"An elder stake and black-thorn ether

Will make a hedge to last for ever."

Fags!or,Aw Fegs!An interjection. Indeed! Truly!

Fenigy, to run away secretly, or so slip off as to deceive expectation; deceitfully to fail in a promise. It is most frequently applied to cases where a man has shown appearances of courtship to a woman, and then has left her without any apparent reason, and without any open quarrel.

Fess, proud, vain. "Lukee her agot a new bonnet. Why, her's as fess as a paycock." Mrs Durbeyfield uses this word in Hardy'sTess.

Flaymerry, a merry-making, or what is now vulgarly called "a spree," but with an innocent meaning, an excursion for amusement.

Gabbern.Gloomy, comfortless rooms and houses are "gabbern."

Galley-bagger, a person fond of gadding about.

Gallied, scared. Jonathan Kail the farm-hand at Talbothay's uses this word (see Hardy'sTess).

Gallyvanting, going from home.

"Then for these flagons of silver fine,Even they shall have no praise of mine;For when my lord or lady be going to dine,He sends them out to be filled with wine,But his man goes gallyvanting away,Because they are precious, and fine, and gay;But if the wine had been order'd in a leather bottel,The man would have come back, and all been well."

"Then for these flagons of silver fine,

Even they shall have no praise of mine;

For when my lord or lady be going to dine,

He sends them out to be filled with wine,

But his man goes gallyvanting away,

Because they are precious, and fine, and gay;

But if the wine had been order'd in a leather bottel,

The man would have come back, and all been well."

Gigglet, a merry young girl, one who shows her folly by a disposition to grin and laugh for no cause. It is used as a term of slight and contempt, and commonly to a young girl. Gigglet-market, a hiring-place for servants. From time immemorial, to within the last sixty years, on Lady Day young girls in Dorset and Devon were accustomed to stand in the market-place awaiting a chance of being hired as servants.

Gu-ku, cuckoo.

"The gu-ku is a merry bird,She sings as she flies;She brings us good tidings,She tells us no lies.She sucks little birds' eggsTo make her voice clear;And when she sings 'gu-ku'The summer is near."

"The gu-ku is a merry bird,

She sings as she flies;

She brings us good tidings,

She tells us no lies.

She sucks little birds' eggs

To make her voice clear;

And when she sings 'gu-ku'

The summer is near."

Hadge, hedge.

"Love thy neighbour—but dawnt pull down thy hadge."

Holt, hold.

"When you are an anvil, holt you still,When you are a hammer, strike your fill."

"When you are an anvil, holt you still,

When you are a hammer, strike your fill."

Hozeburd, a person of bad character. "Jack Dollop, a 'hore's bird of a fellow," is the hero of a story related by Dairyman Crick in Hardy'sTess.

Klip, a sudden smart blow, but not a heavy one. It is most usually applied to a "klipunder the ear." Of late the wordklipperis grown into use to describe a smart-sailing vessel, one that sails very swiftly, with some distant reference to the same idea.

Knap, prominent. It is sometimes applied to the prominent part of a hill; but it is more frequently used as significant of the form of a person's knees when they are distorted towards each other, and which some people have chosen to term knock-kneed.

Lasher, a large thing, of any sort. The meaning sought to be conveyed appears to be that this thing beats or excels every other. The opinion that any object which excels another is able to beat,lashor inflict violence on that other is a strange but not uncommon vulgar one.

Lof, unwilling.

"Dawntee be like old Solomon Wise—'Lof tu go tu beydAnd lof to rise.'Cuz then you'll soon be'Out tu elbaws,Out tu toes,Out ov money,An out ov cloase.'"

"Dawntee be like old Solomon Wise—

'Lof tu go tu beyd

And lof to rise.'

Cuz then you'll soon be

'Out tu elbaws,

Out tu toes,

Out ov money,

An out ov cloase.'"

Main, very. I remember once hearing a Dorset thatcher say:

"I be main fammled. I be so hungry I could welly eat the barn tiles."

Mommet, a scarecrow. SeeTess of the D'Urbervilles: "Had it anything to do with father's making such a mommet of himself in thik carriage?"

Nitch, a bundle of reed, straw or wood. "He's got a nitch"—he is drunk.

Peg, pig. "Tez time tu watch out when you're getting all you want. Fattening pegs ain't 'ardly in luck!"

At a tithe dinner a farmer in giving the Royal toast said:

"The King, God bless him! May he be plaized to send us more pegs and less parsons."

Stubberds, delicious apples.

"Did you say the stars were worlds, Tess?"

"Yes."

"All like ours?"

"I don't know; but I think so. They sometimes seem to be like the apples on our stubbard-tree. Most of them splendid and sound—a few blighted."

"Which do we live on—a splendid one or a blighted one?"

"A blighted one." (See Thomas Hardy'sTess.)

Stugged, stuck in the mud.

"He that will not merry beWith a pretty girl by the fire,I wish he was a-top o' DartmoorA-stugged in the mire."

"He that will not merry be

With a pretty girl by the fire,

I wish he was a-top o' Dartmoor

A-stugged in the mire."

Squab pie, a pie in favour in Devon and Dorset:

"Mutton, onions, apples and doughMake a good pie as any I know."

"Mutton, onions, apples and dough

Make a good pie as any I know."

Ingredients.—3 lb. mutton or pork cutlets, 6 large apples sliced, 2 large onions, ¼ lb. salt fat bacon cut small, 2 oz. castor sugar, ½ pint of mutton broth, pepper and salt to taste. Place these in layers in a deep pie-dish, cover with rich paste and bake for an hour and a half, or place the whole in a crock and stew an hour and a half. Serve piping hot. I have seen clotted cream served and eaten with this "delicacy."

Squab, the youngest or weakest pig of the litter. The London costermonger speaks of the youngest member of his family as the "squab."

Withwind, the wild convolvulus.

Withy, the willow-tree. They say in Wiltshire, in reference to the very rapid growth of the willow, that "a withy tree will buy a horse before an oak will buy a bridle and saddle." The willow will often grow twelve feet in a season.

Wizzened, shrivelled, withered: as "a wizzened apple," "a wizzened-faced woman."

Wosbird.A term of reproach, the meaning of which appears to be unknown to those who use it. It is evidently a corruption of whore's-bird.

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