Stratford-on-Avon stands first on the itinerary of nearly every American
who proposes to visit the historic shrines of Old England. Its
associations with Britain's immortal bard and with our own gentle
Geoffrey Crayon are not unfamiliar to the veriest layman, and no fewer
than thirty thousand pilgrims, largely from America, visit the
delightful old town each year. And who ever came away disappointed? Who,
if impervious to the charm of the place, ever dared to own it?
My first visit to Stratford-on-Avon was in the regulation fashion.
Imprisoned in a dusty and comfortless first-class apartment--first-class
is an irony in England when applied to railroad travel, a mere excuse
for charging double--we shot around the curves, the glorious
Warwickshire landscapes fleeting past in a haze or obscured at times by
the drifting smoke. Our reveries were rudely interrupted by the shriek
of the English locomotive--like an exaggerated toy whistle--and, with a
mere glimpse of town and river, we were brought sharply up to the
unattractive station of Stratford-on-Avon. We were hustled by an
officious porter into an omnibus, which rattled through the streets
until we landed at the Sign of the Red Horse; and the manner of our
departure was even the same.
Just two years later, after an exhilarating drive of two or three hours
over the broad, well-kept highway winding through the parklike fields,
fresh from May showers, between Worcester and Stratford, our motor
finally climbed a long hill, and there, stretched out before us, lay the
valley of the Avon. Far away we caught the gleam of the immortal river,
and rising from a group of splendid trees we beheld Trinity
Church--almost unique in England for its graceful combination of massive
tower and slender spire--the literary shrine of the English-speaking
world, the enchanted spot where Shakespeare sleeps. About it were
clustered the clean, tiled roofs of the charming town, set like a gem in
the Warwickshire landscape, famous as the most beautiful section of Old
England. Our car slowed to a stop, and only the subdued hum of the motor
broke the stillness as we saw Stratford-on-Avon from afar, conscious of
a beauty and sentiment that made our former visit seem commonplace
indeed.
But I am not going to write of Stratford-on-Avon. Thousands have done
this before me--some of them of immortal fame. I shall not attempt to
describe or give details concerning a town that is probably visited each
year by more people than any other place of the size in the world. I am
simply striving in a few words to give the different impressions made
upon the same party who visited the town twice in a comparatively short
period, the first time by railway train and the last by motor car. If I
have anything to say of Stratford, it will come in due sequence in my
story.
There are three ways in which a tourist may obtain a good idea of
Britain during a summer's vacation of three or four months. He may cover
most places of interest after the old manner, by railway train. This
will have to be supplemented by many and expensive carriage drives if he
wishes to see the most beautiful country and many of the most
interesting places. As Professor Goldwin Smith says, "Railways in
England do not follow the lines of beauty in very many cases," and the
opportunity afforded of really seeing England from a railway car window
is poor indeed. The tourist must keep a constant eye on the time-tables,
and in many of the more retired places he will have to spend a day when
an hour would suffice quite as well could he get away. If he travels
first-class, it is quite expensive, and the only advantage secured is
that he generally has a compartment to himself, the difference in
accommodations between first and third-class on the longer distance
trains being insignificant. But if he travels third-class, he very often
finds himself crowded into a small compartment with people in whom, to
say the least, he has nothing in common. One seldom gets the real
sentiment and beauty of a place in approaching it by railway. I am
speaking, of course, of the tourist who endeavors to crowd as much as he
can into a comparatively short time. To the one who remains several days
in a place, railroad traveling is less objectionable. My remarks
concerning railroad travel in England are made merely from the point of
comparison with a pleasure journey by motor, and having covered the
greater part of the country in both ways, I am qualified to some extent
to speak from experience.
For a young man or party of young men who are traveling through Britain
on a summer's vacation, the bicycle affords an excellent and expeditious
method of getting over the country, and offers nearly all the advantages
of the motor car, provided the rider is vigorous and expert enough to do
the wheeling without fatigue. The motor cycle is still better from this
point of view, and many thousands of them are in use on English roads,
while cyclists may be counted by the tens of thousands. But the bicycle
is out of the question for an extended tour by a party which includes
ladies. The amount of impedimenta which must be carried along, and the
many long hills which are encountered on the English roads, will put the
cycle out of the question in such cases.
In the motor car, we have the most modern and thorough means of
traversing the highways and byways of Britain in the limits of a single
summer, and it is my purpose in this book, with little pretensions to
literary style, to show how satisfactorily this may be done by a mere
layman. To the man who drives his own car and who at the outstart knows
very little about the English roads and towns, I wish to undertake to
show how in a trip of five thousand miles, occupying about fifty days,
actual traveling time, I covered much of the most beautiful country in
England and Scotland and visited a large proportion of the most
interesting and historic places in the Kingdom. I think it can be
clearly demonstrated that this method of touring will give opportunities
for enjoyment and for gaining actual knowledge of the people and country
that can hardly be attained in any other way.
The motor car affords expeditious and reasonably sure means of getting
over the country--always ready when you are ready, subservient to your
whim to visit some inaccessible old ruin, flying over the broad main
highways or winding more cautiously in the unfrequented country
byways--and is, withal, a method of locomotion to which the English
people have become tolerant if not positively friendly. Further, I am
sure it will be welcome news to many that the expense of such a trip,
under ordinary conditions, is not at all exorbitant or out of the reach
of the average well-to-do citizen.
Those who have traveled for long distances on American roads can have no
conception whatever of the delights of motor traveling on the British
highways. I think there are more bad roads in the average county, taking
the States throughout, than there are in all of the United Kingdom, and
the number of defective bridges in any county outside of the immediate
precincts of a few cities, would undoubtedly be many times greater than
in the whole of Great Britain. I am speaking, of course, of the more
traveled highways and country byways. There are roads leading into the
hilly sections that would not be practicable for motors at all, but,
fortunately, these are the very roads over which no one would care to
go. While the gradients are generally easier than in the States, there
are in many places sharp hills where the car must be kept well under
control. But the beauty of it is that in Britain one has the means of
being thoroughly warned in advance of the road conditions which he must
encounter.
The maps are perfect to the smallest detail and drawn to a large scale,
showing the relative importance of all the roads; and upon them are
plainly marked the hills that are styled "dangerous." These maps were
prepared for cyclists, and many of the hills seem insignificant to a
powerful motor. However, the warning is none the less valuable, for
often other conditions requiring caution prevail, such as a dangerous
turn on a hill or a sharp descent into a village street. Then there is a
set of books, four in number, published by an Edinburgh house and
illustrated by profile plans, covering about thirty thousand miles of
road in England and Scotland. These show the exact gradients and supply
information in regard to the surface of the roads and their general
characteristics. Besides this, the "objects of interest" scattered along
any particular piece of road are given in brief--information at once so
desirable and complete as to be a revelation to an American. There are
sign-boards at nearly every crossing; only in some of the more retired
districts did we find the crossroads unmarked. With such advantages as
these, it is easily seen that a tour of Britain by a comparative
stranger is not difficult; that a chauffeur or a guide posted on the
roads is not at all necessary. The average tourist, with the exercise of
ordinary intelligence and a little patience, can get about any part of
the country without difficulty. One of the greatest troubles we found
was to strike the right road in leaving a town of considerable size, but
this was overcome by the extreme willingness of any policeman or native
to give complete information--often so much in detail as to be rather
embarrassing. The hundreds of people from whom we sought assistance in
regard to the roads were without exception most cheerful and willing
compliants, and in many places people who appeared to be substantial
citizens volunteered information when they saw us stop at the town
crossing to consult our maps. In getting about the country, little
difficulty or confusion will be experienced.
Generally speaking, the hotel accommodations in the provincial towns
throughout England and Scotland are surprisingly good. Of course there
is a spice of adventure in stopping occasionally at one of the small
wayside inns or at one of the old hostelries more famous for its
associations than for comfort, but to one who demands first-class
service and accommodations, a little of this will go a long way.
Generally it can be so planned that towns with strictly good hotel
accommodations can be reached for the night. Occasionally an unusually
comfortable and well-ordered hotel will tempt the motorist to tarry a
day or two and possibly to make excursions in the vicinity. Such hotels
we found at Chester and York, for instance. The country hotel-keeper in
Britain is waking up to the importance of motor travel. Already most of
the hotels were prepared to take care of this class of tourists, and in
many others improvements were under way. It is safe to say that in the
course of two or three years, at the farthest, there will be little to
be desired in the direction of good accommodations in the better towns.
Rates at these hotels are not low by any means--at least for the
motorist. It is generally assumed that a man who is in possession of an
automobile is able to pay his bills, and charges and fees are exacted in
accordance with this idea. There is, of course, a wide variation in this
particular, and taking it right through, the rates at the best hotels
would not be called exorbitant. The Motor Club of Great Britain and
Ireland have many especially designated hotels where the members of this
association are given a discount. These are not in every case the best
in the town, and we generally found Baedeker's Hand Book the most
reliable guide as to the relative merits of the hotels. It is a poorly
appointed hotel that does not now have a garage of some sort, and in
many cases, necessary supplies are available. Some even go so far as to
charge the storage batteries, or "accumulators," as they are always
called in Britain, and to afford facilities for the motorist to make
repairs.
It goes without saying that a motor tour should be planned in advance
as carefully as possible. If one starts out in a haphazard way, it takes
him a long time to find his bearings, and much valuable time is lost.
Before crossing the water, it would be well to become posted as
thoroughly as possible on what one desires to see and to gain a general
idea of the road from the maps. Another valuable adjunct will be a
membership in the A.C.A. or a letter from the American motor
associations, with an introduction to the Secretary of the Motor Union
of Great Britain and Ireland. In this manner can be secured much
valuable information as to the main traveled routes; but after all, if
the tourist is going to get the most out of his trip, he will have to
come down to a careful study of the country and depend partly on the
guide-books but more upon his own knowledge of the historical and
literary landmarks throughout the Kingdom.