On our trip to Manchester we passed within two or three miles of
Knutsford, the delightful old town selected by Mrs. Gaskell as the scene
of her story, "Granford." Had we known of this at the time, a short
detour would have taken us through its quaint streets.
The Isle of Wight is immediately across the strait from Southampton, and
while a motor car could be transported by steamer to traverse its fifty
or sixty miles of main road, this is not very often done. It would
require one or two days to visit the interesting points in the island,
among which are Carisbrooke Castle, where King Charles I was confined as
a prisoner; Osborne House, formerly a royal residence but presented to
the nation by King Edward; and Freshwater, the home where the poet
Tennyson lived for many years.
Sherborne and Tewkesbury were both only a few miles off our route, and
had we planned rightly we could have visited with very little loss of
time these two interesting towns with their great abbey churches, which
rank in size and importance with many of the cathedrals.
Ten miles from Penzance would have brought us to Lands End--the extreme
southwestern point of England, abounding in wild and beautiful
ocean-shore scenery, but the story of dangerous hills deterred us,
though we afterwards regretted our decision. Nor could we pass again as
we did at Camelford in Cornwall within five miles of King Arthur's
Tintagel without seeing this solitary and wonderfully romantic ruin,
with the majestic--even awe-inspiring--scenery around it.
Perhaps the most interesting trip which we missed, but which would have
required more time than we could give, was a two or three days' run
through the extreme south of Wales. It is only thirty miles from
Monmouth to Cardiff, a coal-mining metropolis, itself of little
interest, but with many places worth visiting in its immediate vicinity.
Cardiff Castle, too, is one of the best known of the Welsh ruins, and
here Henry I confined his elder brother Robert for twenty years while he
himself, in reality a usurper, held the English throne. Ten miles north
of Cardiff is the rude and inaccessible castle of Caerphilly, which is
reckoned the most extensive ruin in the Kingdom.
Following the coast road for one hundred miles, one comes to the ancient
town of St. Davids, at the extreme southwestern point of Wales. Here in
the Middle Ages was a city of considerable size, a great resort of
pilgrims to St. David's shrine, William the Conqueror being one of
these. The modern St. Davids is a mere village, and its chief attraction
is its grand cathedral and the ruins of the once gorgeous episcopal
palace. The cathedral, built in the Tenth Century, is curiously
situated in a deep dell, and only the great tower is visible from the
village.
The return trip from St. Davids would best be made over the same road to
Carmarthen, then taking the road northward to Llandovery, where is
located one of the ruins of what was once the greatest abbey in Southern
Wales. From this point the road direct to Abergavenny is a good one and
passes through much of the picturesque hill country of Wales.
From Bangor in North Wales it is about twenty miles to Holyhead, from
which point the car could easily be transferred to Ireland in two or
three hours. This would mean an additional two weeks to the tour, and no
doubt more time could pleasantly be spent in the Emerald Isle. The roads
in Ireland are far from equal to those of England or Scotland, but the
scenery, especially on the coast, is even lovelier, and the points of
interest quite as numerous.
The Isle of Man, in the Irish Channel, is a famous resort of motorists,
and many of the speed and reliability contests have been held there. It
is about the only spot in the world where no speed limit is imposed, the
inhabitants of the island recognizing the financial advantage which they
reap from the numerous motorists. There are about fifty or sixty miles
of road in the island said to be as fine as any in the world. The island
is charming and interesting, with ruins and relics dating from the time
it was an independent kingdom. The two days which would have to be
given it would be well spent.
No one who had not visited it before would miss the Lake District in the
north of England. A former trip through this section by coach caused us
to omit it from our tour, though we would gladly have seen this
delightful country a second time. One could depart from the main highway
from Lancaster to Carlisle at Kendall and in a single day visit most of
the haunts of Ruskin, Coleridge, Wordsworth and Southey, whose names are
always associated with the English lakes. Many steep hills would be
encountered, but none that would present great difficulty to a
moderate-powered motor. It would be much better, however, if two or
three days could be given to the Lakes, and this time might also include
Furness Abbey and Lanercost Priory. Volumes have been written of the
English lakes, but with all the vivid pen-pictures that have been drawn
one will hardly be prepared for the beauty of the reality.
The Peak District in Derbyshire we omitted for the same reason--a
previous visit. At Nottingham we were within ten or fifteen miles of
this section, and by following a splendid road could have reached
Rowsley Station, with its quaint inn, near Chatsworth House and Haddon
Hall. No one who makes any pretense of seeing England will miss either
of these places. Haddon Hall is said to be the most perfect of the
baronial mansion houses now to be found in England. It is situated in a
wonderfully picturesque position, on a rocky bluff overlooking the River
Wye. The manor was originally given by the Conqueror to Peveril of the
Peak, the hero of Scott's novel. The mansion is chiefly famous for its
connection with Dorothy Vernon, who married the son of the Earl of
Rutland in the time of Queen Elizabeth, the property thus passing to the
Rutland family, who are still the owners. The mansion is approached by a
small bridge crossing the river, whence one enters under a lofty archway
the main courtyard. In this beautiful quadrangle, one of the most
interesting features is the chapel at the southwest corner. This is one
of the oldest portions of the structure. Almost opposite is the
magnificent porch and bay-window leading into the great hall. This is
exactly as it was in the days of the Vernons, and its table, at which
the lord of the feast sat, its huge fireplace, timber roof and minstrel
gallery are quite unaltered. It has recently been announced that the
Duke of Rutland will make repairs to this old place and occupy it as one
of his residences, closing Belvoir Castle, his present home, on account
of the great expense of maintaining it.
Four or five miles from Haddon Hall is Chatsworth House, the splendid
country seat of the Duke of Devonshire. This was built over a hundred
years ago and is as fine an example of the modern English mansion as
Haddon Hall is of the more ancient. It is a great building in the
Georgian style, rather plain from the outside, but the interior is
furnished in great splendor. It is filled with objects of art presented
to the family at various times, some of them representing gifts from
nearly every crowned head in Europe during the last hundred years. Its
galleries contain representative works of the greatest ancient and
modern artists. Even more charming than the mansion itself are its
gardens and grounds. Nowhere in England are these surpassed. The
mansion, with its grounds, is open daily to the public without charge,
and we were told that in some instances the number of visitors reaches
one thousand in a single day. As I noted elsewhere, the Duke of
Devonshire owns numerous other palaces and ruins, all of which are open
to the public without charge--a fine example of the spirit of many of
the English nobility who decline to make commercial enterprises of their
historic possessions.
In this immediate vicinity is Buxton, another of the English watering
places famous for mineral springs. The neighborhood is most romantic,
with towering cliffs, strange caverns, leaping cataracts and wooded
valleys. However, the section abounds in very steep hills, dangerous to
the most powerful motor.
In Yorkshire we missed much, chiefly on account of lack of time. A
single day's journey would have taken us over a fine road to
Scarborough, an ancient town which has become a modern seacoast resort,
and to Whitby, with one of the finest abbey ruins in the shire, as well
as to numerous other interesting places between. Barnard Castle, lying
just across the western boundary of Yorkshire, was only a few miles off
the road from Darlington, and would have been well worth a visit. These
are only a few of the many places which might be seen to advantage if
one could give at least a week to Yorkshire.
From Norwich an hour or two would have taken us to Yarmouth through the
series of beautiful lakes known as the Norfolk Broads. Yarmouth is an
ancient town with many points of interest and at present noted
principally for its fisheries.
On the road to Colchester we might easily have visited Bury St. Edmunds,
and coming out of Colchester, only seven miles away is the imposing ruin
of the unfinished mansion of the Marneys, which its builder hoped to
make the most magnificent private residence in the Kingdom. The death of
Lord Marney and his son brought the project to an end and for several
hundred years this vast ruin has stood as a monument to their
unfulfilled hopes.
It may seem that as Americans we were rather unpatriotic to pass within
a few miles of the ancestral country of the Washingtons without visiting
it, but such was the case. It is not given much space in the guide-books
and it came to us only as an afterthought. It was but five or six miles
from Northampton, through which we passed. In the old church at Brington
is the tomb of George Washington's great-great-great-grandfather and
also one of the houses which was occupied by his relatives. In the same
section is Sulgrave Manor, the home of the Washingtons for several
generations, which still has over its front doorway the Washington
coat-of-arms. In the same vicinity and near the farmhouse where George
Eliot was born is Nuneaton, a place where she spent much of her life and
to which numerous references are made in her novels.
In Scotland we also missed much, but very little that we could have
reached without consuming considerably more time. A day's trip north of
Edinburgh, across the Firth of Forth into Fife, would have enabled us to
visit Loch Leven and its castle, where Queen Mary was held prisoner and
was rescued by young Douglas, whom she afterward unfortunately married.
Had we started two or three hours earlier on our trip to Abbottsford and
Melrose, we could easily have reached Jedburgh and Kelso, at each of
which there are interesting abbey ruins. Of course it would have been
a fine thing to go to the extreme northern point of Scotland, known as
John O' Groats, but this, at the rate we traveled, would have consumed
two or three days. The country is not specially interesting and has few
historical associations. Tourists make this trip chiefly to be able to
say they have covered the Kingdom from Lands End to John O' Groats.
[Illustration: THE CALEDONIAN COAST.