At Chichester we stopped for lunch at the hotel, just opposite the
cathedral, where we had an example of the increasing tendency of hotel
managers to recoup their fortunes by special prices for the benefit of
tourists. On entering the dining room we were confronted with large
placards conveying the cheerful information that luncheon would cost
five shillings, or about $1.25 each. Evidently the manageress desired
the victims to be prepared for the worst. There was another party in the
dining room, a woman with five or six small children, and a small riot
began when she was presented with a bill of five shillings for each of
them. The landlady, clad in a low-necked black dress with long sweeping
train, was typical of many we saw in the old-country hotels. She
received her guest's protest with the utmost hauteur, and when we left
the altercation was still in progress. It was not an uncommon thing in
many of the dingiest and most unpretentious hotels to find some of the
women guests elaborately dressed for dinner in the regulation low neck
and long train. In many cases the example was set by the manageress and
her assistants, though their attire not infrequently was the worse for
long and continuous use.
Directly north of Chichester lie the picturesque hills of Surrey, which
have not inaptly been described as the play-ground of London. The
country around Chichester is level bordering on the coast. A few miles
to the north it becomes rough and broken. About twenty miles in this
direction is Haselmere, with many associations of George Eliot and
Tennyson. This, together with the picturesque character of the country,
induced us to turn our course in that direction, although we found a
number of steep hills that were as trying as any we had met with. On the
way we passed through Midhurst, one of the quaintest of Surrey towns,
situated on a hill so steep and broken as to be quite dangerous. Not far
from this place is the home of Richard Cobden, the father of English
free trade, and he is buried in the churchyard near the town. He was
evidently held in high regard in his time, for his house, which is still
standing, was presented him by the nation. Among the hills near the town
are several stately English country houses, and about half a mile
distant are the ruins of Cowdray mansion, which about a hundred years
ago was one of the most pretentious of all. There was an old tradition
which said that the house and family should perish by fire and water,
and it was curiously enough fulfilled when the palace burned and the
last lord of the family was drowned on the same day.
[Illustration: WINDMILL NEAR ARUNDEL, SUSSEX.]