Transcriber's Note
##################
This e-text is based on the 1891 edition of the book. Minor punctuation
errors have been tacitly corrected. Inconsistencies in hyphenation and
spelling, as well as the use of obsolete terms, such as 'humble
bee', 'havock', etc., have been retained.
The following passages have been corrected or need to be commented:
# p. viii (List of Illustrations): 'Garrick's Weir'--> 'Garrick's
Villa'
# p. 35: 'pigstyes'--> 'pigsties'
# p. 49: 'Bathhurst'--> 'Bathurst'
# p. 107: 'probaby'--> 'probably'
# p. 291: 'lumber'--> 'number'
# p. 317: 'an all the seas'--> 'on all the seas'
'Manor of Pleasuance'--> 'Manor of Pleasaunce'
# p. 343: 'hnows'--> 'knows'
# p. 365: 'Jesus Hospital at Bray': page number added (146)
Italic text in the original version has been placed between underscores
(_text_); passages in small caps have been symbolised by forward
slashes (/small caps/). [oe] symbolises the corresponding ligature; the
caret symbol (^) indicates subsequent superscript characters.
/Rivers of Great Britain:
The Thames, from Source to Sea./
[Illustration:
/C. L. Seymour. pinxt/
/C. O. Murray. sculpt/
/Cliefden Woods/.]
RIVERS OF GREAT BRITAIN.
The Thames, from Source to Sea.
DESCRIPTIVE, HISTORICAL, PICTORIAL.
[Illustration]
CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED:
_LONDON, PARIS & MELBOURNE_.
1891.
[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]
[Illustration]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
ABOVE OXFORD.--_By W. SENIOR._
PAGE
The Source of the Thames--Early Names of the River--Seven
Springs--Thames Head--The Churn and its Course--Thames and
Severn Canal--Cricklade--Castle Eaton--Inglesham--Fairford and
the Coln--Lechlade--The First Lock--Some Thames Flowers--Old
Buscot--Hart's Weir--Bird Life--Radcot Bridge--Eddying
Pools and Golden Shallows--Canal-like Reaches--Tadpole
Bridge--Bampton--Duxford Ferry--Canute's Country--The Windrush--The
Oldest Bridge--Old Father Thames--Disused Weir-pools--Bablock
Hythe, Stanton Harcourt, and Cumnor--Skinner's Weir and Pinkhill
Lock--Eynsham Weir, Bridge, and Cross--The Evenlode--Witham
Hill--Thames Angling--Godstow--King's Weir--Port Meadow--Folly
Bridge 1
CHAPTER II.
OXFORD TO ABINGDON.--_By D. MACCOLL._
Oxford, from the Upper River; the New Town--The Courses of the
River, from Medley Weir to Folly Bridge--The Houses of the
Regulars and Friars--The University and Parish Churches--The
Halls and Colleges of the Seculars, from the Thirteenth Century
to the Reformation--Jacobean Oxford--Classic Oxford--Convenient
Oxford--The Architectural Revival--The Undergraduate
Revival--The River below Folly Bridge, and the Invention
of Rowing--The Navigation Shape of the River--Floods--The
Barges--Iffley--Littlemore--Kennington--Radley--Sandford--Nuneham 33
CHAPTER III.
ABINGDON TO STREATLEY.--_By J. PENDEREL-BRODHURST._
Abingdon--The Abbey--St. Nicholas' Church--The Market
Cross--The Ancient Stone Cross--St. Helen's Church--Christ's
Hospital--Culham--First View of Wittenham Clump--Clifton
Hampden--The "Barley Mow"--A River-side Solitude--Day's Lock--Union
of the Thames and the Isis--Dorchester--The Abbey Church--Sinodun
Hill--Shillingford Bridge--Bensington--The Church--Crowmarsh
Giffard--Wallingford--Mongewell--Newton Murren--Moulsford--The
"Beetle and Wedge"--Cleeve Lock--Streatley 62
CHAPTER IV.
STREATLEY TO HENLEY.--_By W. SENIOR._
Streatley, the Artists' Mecca--Goring versus Streatley--Goring from
the Toll-gate--Streatley Mill--Weirs and Backwaters--Antiquity
of Streatley and Goring--Goring Church--Common Wood--Basildon
Ferry and Hart's Wood--A Thames Osier Farm--Whitchurch
Lock--Pangbourne--Hardwicke House and Mapledurham--Caversham
Bridge--Reading and its Abbey--A Divergence to the Kennet, with
calls at Marlborough, Hungerford, and Newbury--The Charms of
Sonning--"The Loddon slow, with verdant alders crowned"--St.
Patrick's Stream--Shiplake Weir--Wargrave and Bolney Court--Park
Place--Marsh Lock--Remarks on Thames Angling--The Approach to
Henley 85
CHAPTER V.
HENLEY TO MAIDENHEAD.--_By the Rev. PROFESSOR BONNEY, F.R.S._
The Best Bit of the River--Henley--The Church--The "Red
Lion"--Shenstone's Lines--Henley Regatta--The First University
Boat-race--Fawley Court--Remenham--Hambledon Lock--Medmenham
Abbey and the Franciscans--Dissolution of the Order--Hurley--Lady
Place and its History--A Strange Presentiment--Bisham Abbey
and its Ghost--Bisham Church--Great Marlow--The Church and its
Curiosities--"Puppy Pie"--Quarry Woods--The Thames Swans and
the Vintners' Company--Cookham and Cliefden--Hedsor--Cliefden
Woods--The House--Raymead--The Approach to Maidenhead 113
CHAPTER VI.
MAIDENHEAD TO WINDSOR.--_By H. SCHÜTZ WILSON._
Maidenhead--Bray--Jesus Hospital--The Harbour of Refuge--Frederick
Walker--A Boat-race--Monkey Island--The River--Surley Hall--Boveney
Lock--Eton--Windsor--St. George's Chapel--The Castle--Mr. R. R.
Holmes--James I.--Surrey--The Merry Wives of Windsor 143
CHAPTER VII.
WINDSOR TO HAMPTON COURT.--_By GODFREY WORDSWORTH TURNER._
Leaving Windsor--Eton, its History and its Worthies--The College
Buildings--Windsor Park--The Long Walk--The Albert Bridge--Datchet
and Falstaff--Old Windsor--"Perdita's" Grave--The Tapestry
Works--The "Bells of Ouseley"--Riverside Inns--The Loves of
Harry and Anne Boleyn--Magna Charter Island--Runnymede--The
Poet of Cooper's Hill--Fish at Bell Weir--A Neglected
Dainty--Egham and Staines--John Emery--Penton Hook--Laleham--Dr.
Arnold--Chertsey--The Lock and Bridge--Albert Smith and his
Brother--Chertsey Abbey--Black Cherry Fair--Cowley the Poet--A
Scene from "Oliver Twist"--St. Ann's Hill--Weybridge--Oaklands
and the Grotto--Shepperton Lock and Ferry--Halliford--Walton--The
Scold's Bridle--Sunbury--Hampton--Moulsey Hurst and its Sporting
Associations--Hampton Court Bridge 161
CHAPTER VIII.
HAMPTON COURT TO RICHMOND.--_By J. PENDEREL-BRODHURST._
Hampton Court--Thames Ditton: The "Swan"--The
Church--Surbiton--Kingston: The Coronation
Stone--Teddington--Twickenham--Eel Pie Island--Petersham--Richmond
Park--Approach to Richmond 201
CHAPTER IX.
RICHMOND TO BATTERSEA.--_By the Rev. PROFESSOR BONNEY, F.R.S._
The River at Richmond--A Spot for a Holiday--The Old Palace
of Sheen--The Trumpeters' House--Old Sad Memories--Richmond
Green--The Church--Kean's Grave--Water Supply--The
Bridge--The Nunnery of Sion and Convent of Sheen--Sir
William Temple--Kew Observatory, Isleworth--Sion House and
its History--Kew Palace and the Georges--Kew Gardens--Kew
Green--Brentford--Mortlake--Barnes--Chiswick--The
Boat-race--Hammersmith--Putney--Barn Elms--Putney and Fulham--The
Bishops of London--Hurlingham--The Approach to a Great City 229
CHAPTER X.
BATTERSEA TO LONDON BRIDGE.--_By EDMUND OLLIER._
The Scene Changes--A City River--Battersea--Chelsea--The Old
Church--Sir T. More and Sir Hans Sloane--Cheyne Walk--Don Saltero's
Coffee-house and Thomas Carlyle--The Botanical Gardens--Chelsea
Hospital--The Pensioners--Battersea Park--The Suspension
Bridge--Vauxhall--Lambeth--The Church and Palace--Westminster
Palace and the Abbey--Its Foundation and History--Westminster
Hall--Westminster Bridge--The Victoria Embankment--York
Gate--Waterloo Bridge and Somerset House--The Temple--Blackfriars
Bridge--St. Paul's--Southwark Bridge--The Old Theatres--Cannon
Street Bridge--London Bridge and its Traffic 258
CHAPTER XI.
LONDON BRIDGE TO GRAVESEND.--_By AARON WATSON._
Hogarth's Water Frolic--Billingsgate--Salesmen's Cries--The Custom
House--Queen Elizabeth and the Customs--The Tower, and Tower
Hill--The Pool--The Docks--Ratcliff Highway--The Thames Tunnel--In
Rotherhithe--The Isle of Dogs--The Dock Labourer--Deptford and
Greenwich--Woolwich Reach and Dockyard--The _Warspite_ 288
CHAPTER XII.
GRAVESEND TO THE NORE.--_By J. RUNCIMAN._
Morning on the Lower Thames--Gravesend--Pilots and Watermen--A
Severe Code--Tilbury and its Memories--The Marshes--Wild-fowl
Shooting--Eel Boats--Canvey Island--Hadleigh Castle--Leigh, and the
Shrimpers--Southend and the Pier--Sailing--Sheerness--The Mouth of
the Medway--The Dockyard--The Town and its Divisions--The Nore--A
Vision of Wonder--Shoeburyness--Outward Bound 337
/Table of Distances/ 368
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
_Frontispiece_.--/Cliefden Woods/.
/On Title-page, Head of Thames/ (_from bas-relief on Temple
Pier_). PAGES
/Map of the Thames/ _To face page_ 1
_ABOVE OXFORD_:--
The Seven Springs--Thames Head--The Sources of the Thames
(_Map_)--The First Bridge over the Thames--Cricklade--Inglesham
Round House--Lechlade: the First Lock--Radcot Bridge--The Ferry,
Bablock Hythe--Cumnor Churchyard--Stanton Harcourt Church--Eynsham
Weir--Cross at Eynsham--Oxford from Godstow--The Thames from
Lechlade to Oxford (_Map_) 1-32
_OXFORD TO ABINGDON_:--
The Barges--Oxford, from Headington Hill--New College, from the
Gardens--St. Mary's, from the High Street--Magdalen Tower, from
the Cherwell--Stone Pulpit, Magdalen--"Tom" Gateway--The Dome
of the Radcliffe, from Brasenose--The 'Varsity Barge--A "Bump"
at the Barges--Iffley Mill--Iffley Church--Littlemore Church
and Kennington Island--Oxford to Abingdon (_Map_)--A Picnic to
Nuneham--The Bridge and Cottage, Nuneham--Distant View of Abingdon
33-61
_ABINGDON TO STREATLEY_:--
Abingdon, from the River--Abingdon Bridge--Culham Church--Clifton
Hampden Church--Dorchester, from Little Wittenham--Sinodun Hill
and Day's Lock--Shillingford Bridge--Wallingford Church and
Bridge--Moulsford Ferry--Abingdon to Streatley (_Map_)--Streatley
Mill 62-84
_STREATLEY TO HENLEY_:--
The Thames at Streatley--Streatley to Henley (_Map_)--Goring, from
the Tollgate--Whitchurch Church and Mill--Mapledurham, the Church
and the Mill--Flooded Meadows, from Caversham Bridge--The Thames
at Reading, from the Old Clappers--Sonning-on-Thames--Sonning
Weir--Shiplake--A Camping-out Party--Backwater at Wargrave--A Pool
of Water-lilies 85-112
_HENLEY TO MAIDENHEAD_:--
Henley Regatta--Henley, from the Towing-path--Regatta
Island--Fawley Court--Aston Ferry--Medmenham Abbey--Below
Medmenham--Bisham Abbey--Bisham Church--Great Marlow, from
Quarry Woods--Henley to Maidenhead (_Map_)--A Picnic at Quarry
Woods--A Group of Swans--Cookham--A Crowd in Cookham Lock--The
Landing-Stage, Ray Mead--Taplow Woods 113-142
MAIDENHEAD TO WINDSOR:--
Bray Church--Maidenhead to Windsor (_Map_)--Surley--Boveney
Lock--Windsor Castle, from Boveney Lock--St. George's Chapel,
Windsor 143-160
_WINDSOR TO HAMPTON COURT_:--
Procession of the Boats, Eton--Eton, from the Playing-fields--The
Albert Bridge--Old Windsor Lock--The "Bells of Ouseley"--Magna
Charta Island--Runnymede--Windsor to Hampton Court (_Map_)--London
Stone--Staines Bridge--Laleham Ferry--Laleham Church--Chertsey
Bridge--Shepperton Lock--Shepperton--Halliford--Sunbury
Weir--Sunbury Church--Between Hampton and Sunbury--Garrick's Villa,
Hampton 161-200
_HAMPTON COURT TO RICHMOND_:--
The Approach to Hampton Court--Entrance Porch--The First
Quadrangle--Fountain Court--In the Reach below Hampton Court--The
"Swan," Thames Ditton--Thames Ditton Church--Hampton Court to
Richmond (_Map_)--Kingston, from the River--The Market-place,
Kingston--The Coronation Stone--The Royal Barge--The "Anglers,"
Teddington--Strawberry Hill--Pope's Villa at Twickenham--Twickenham
Ferry--Richmond: the Meadows and the Park--Richmond: The Terrace
from the River 201-228
_RICHMOND TO BATTERSEA_:--
Richmond Bridge--Between Richmond and Kew--Sion House--The
River at Kew--The Pagoda in Kew Gardens--Kew Gardens--Cambridge
Cottage--High Water at Mortlake--Hogarth's Tomb--The University
Boat-race--Richmond to Battersea (_Map_)--Old Hammersmith
Bridge--Old Putney Bridge and Fulham Church 229-257
_BATTERSEA TO LONDON BRIDGE_:--
Battersea Bridge--Cheyne Walk--Vauxhall Bridge, from Nine Elms
Pier--Lambeth Palace and Church--The Victoria Tower--The Abbey,
from Lambeth Bridge--York Gate--The Embankment--The River at
Blackfriars--St. Paul's, from the Thames--Southwark Bridge--Cannon
Street Station--Battersea to London Bridge (_Map_) 258-287
_LONDON TO GRAVESEND_:--
In the Pool--St. Magnus' Church and the Monument--London
Bridge to Woolwich (_Map_)--Billingsgate: Early Morning--The
Tower, from the River--Limehouse Church--The River below
Wapping--Entrance to the East India Docks--The West India
Docks--Millwall Docks--Millwall--Greenwich Hospital--View from
Greenwich Park--The Albert Docks--Woolwich Reach--Woolwich
Arsenal--Woolwich--Plumstead--Dagenham Marshes--Barking
Abbey--Barking Reach--At Purfleet--Erith Pier--Tilbury
Fort--Gravesend--At Gravesend--Woolwich to Gravesend (_Map_)
288-336
_GRAVESEND TO THE NORE_:--
At Canvey Island--The Fringe of the Marshes--Hadleigh
Castle--Leigh--Southend and the Pier--Sheerness Dockyard, looking
up the Medway--Sheerness Dockyard, from the River--Mouth of the
Thames: Low Water--Artillery Practice at Shoeburyness--Gravesend to
the Nore (_Map_)--Outward Bound: Passing the Nore Light
337-362
We are indebted to Messrs. Taunt, of Oxford, for permission to use
their photographs for the views on pages 15, 22, 56, 60, 65, 69,
79, 91, 149, 169, 174, 195, 198, 200, 209, 220, and 334; to Messrs.
Hill and Saunders for that on page 56; to Messrs. G. W. Wilson and
Co., of Aberdeen, for that on page 54; to Messrs. W. H. Beer and
Co. for those on pages 71, 80, and 85; to Messrs. Marsh Bros., of
Henley, for those on pages 63, 77, 113, and 132; to Messrs. Poulton
and Son, of Lee, for that on page 335; to Mr. F. H. Secourable,
of Southend, for that on page 351; to Mr. S. Cole, of Gravesend,
for those on pages 354 and 355; and to Mr. F. G. O. Stuart, of
Southampton, for those on pages 83 and 153.
[Illustration: THE THAMES
FROM
SOURCE TO SEA.]
/Rivers of Great Britain./
[Illustration: THE SEVEN SPRINGS.]
THE THAMES.
CHAPTER I.
ABOVE OXFORD.
The Source of the Thames--Early Names of the River--Seven
Springs--Thames Head--The Churn and its Course--Thames and
Severn Canal--Cricklade--Castle Eaton--Inglesham--Fairford and
the Coln--Lechlade--The First Lock--Some Thames Flowers--Old
Buscot--Hart's Weir--Bird Life--Radcot Bridge--Eddying
Pools and Golden Shallows--Canal-like Reaches--Tadpole
Bridge--Bampton--Duxford Ferry--Canute's Country--The Windrush--The
Oldest Bridge--Old Father Thames--Disused Weir-pools--Bablock
Hythe, Stanton Harcourt, and Cumnor--Skinner's Weir and Pinkhill
Lock--Eynsham Weir, Bridge, and Cross--The Evenlode--Witham
Hill--Thames Angling--Godstow--King's Weir--Port Meadow--Folly
Bridge.
The birds, flowers, and bees around are, doubtless, in their several
ways, rejoicing with me in the balmy May morning radiant with warm
sunshine. Down the unsullied emerald of the little slope yonder,
carpeted with nodding cowslips, daisies, and buttercups, and faintly
azured in sheltered spaces with wild hyacinths, I have descended into
a rustic glade, not, at its widest, more than fifty yards across,
and running, roughly reckoning, north and south. The slope is easy,
springing as it does from a verdant bottom to the foot of a low wall;
this, pushing aside the glossy sycamore branches, I have leaped from
the Canal path, at a gap where the village children, on their recent
half-holiday, wastefully cast aside the surplus of their cowslip
harvest to wither and die. But from my present standpoint the low
wall is nearly hidden in undergrowth, and by a plentiful intermixture
of hawthorn, holly, and ash flourishing on the bank top. The
sweet-smelling grass is spangled with daisies and buttercups, though
not so profusely as in the field adjacent, which is destined for a crop
of hay; and the grove resounds with bird-music set in the rapturous
key of the bridal season. And there, a few paces athwart the sward,
under the shadow of trembling foliage, is the spot which for centuries
was said to be the birthplace of the River Thames. We are at Thames
Head, in Trewsbury Mead, in the parish of Cotes, in the county of
Gloucestershire, three miles south-west of Cirencester.
The mossy trunk, lying prostrate under the wall on the side of the
glade opposite the sylvan slope by which entrance has been effected,
invites the opportunity of a more minute observation. Seated thereupon,
far from the noisy world, we may make a fair and leisurely start upon
that long and interesting voyage from Source to Sea, upon which, in
this and succeeding chapters, the reader is invited to embark with
confidence and hope. Here, probably, is the identical spot which
Peacock, author of the "Genius of the Thames," had in his mind when he
wrote--
"Let fancy lead from Trewsbury mead,
With hazel fringed, and copsewood deep;
Where, scarcely seen, through brilliant green,
Thy infant waters softly creep."
The friendly branches of a wild rose hustle my elbow, or, rather, would
do so, but that a sturdier bramble bough interposes. On the other side
of me there is a charming tangle of hazel and blackberry bushes. There
is also a more than commonly bushy hawthorn overspreading the wall at a
portion where thick ivy covers it. A spreading wild rose is established
in the very middle of the glade, which is graced with quite an unusual
quantity of large and old hawthorn trees. A strong west wind soughs and
sighs in the trees; blackbirds and thrushes, by their liquid notes,
blithe and merry, seem to protest against the melancholy undertone, as
does a grand humble bee, in magnificent orange-velvet smallclothes, who
contributes a sympathetic bass solo as he drones by. But the object to
be chiefly noticed at this moment is the aged ash-tree yonder. It is
of medium size and no particular shape, though the ivy covering its
bole and lower limbs gives it an air of picturesque importance. Ragged
hawthorns and brambles surround it. The importance of the tree lies
in the circumstance that it marks the spot which the old writers, and
many modern authorities following in their footsteps, have pronounced
to be the source of the Thames. The supposition is that in former times
a perennial spring of water issued forth here, forming Thames Head.
The well, however, out of which the water might once have gushed, and
miscellaneously overspread the pasturage on its way to form a brook,
has in these days lost potency. For a long time past it has ceased to
yield water, and, as a matter of prosaic fact, from one end of the
glade to the other there is no sign of water in any shape or form. The
inhabitants of the countryside say that in the winter-time the waters,
provoked by long rains, still well forth in copious flood; but, even
granting this, we may not conclude that a spring so uncertain as this
in Trewsbury Mead is the source of the Thames. The obvious reflection
is that before the erection of the ugly pump-house which disfigures
the locality, and before the neighbouring springs began to be drained
for the service of the Canal, the supply of water was permanent and
strong, albeit there is ground for supposing that Thames Head was never
thoroughly to be relied upon. I have thus pictured for the reader the
source which appears to be favoured by topographers and antiquaries;
but there are other springs besides. Half a mile lower down there is,
near the Roman way, a basin--another Thames Head--which is sometimes
filled by a spring, and which is pictured on the next page in the
precise condition in which it appeared to our artist during the rains
of early spring. Yet another rill issues from a hill-side; and a
fourth, lower still, is perhaps the most clearly defined and strongest
of the group, and best entitled to the honour claimed on behalf of
the dried-up well in the green glade just described. The Thames Head
district seems, indeed, to abound in springs, and in wet weather the
level ground is probably freely intersected by brooklets, forming the
stream which is the undoubted head of Isis, and which has been called
the Thames from time immemorial.
On the very threshold of our task we are confronted, indeed, with two
sometime-disputed points which it will be necessary to clear away, or
come to terms with, if we would proceed upon our voyage of some two
hundred miles from source to Nore with a clear conscience. They relate,
first, to the name of the river; and second, to the precise spot in the
Cotswold country where it starts upon its wanderings. Neither of these
controversial subjects shall, however, detain us long from an intimate
acquaintance with the "mighty king of all the British rivers, superior
to most in beauty, and to all in importance," setting forth on its
career in humble smallness, gathering tranquil volume as it flows in
succession through the fertile counties of Gloucestershire, Wiltshire,
Berkshire, Oxfordshire, Buckinghamshire, Surrey, Middlesex, Kent, and
Essex, and finally delivering its full tribute to the Northern Ocean.
What rare historical memories it evokes, what varieties of landscape it
touches and creates, let the following lines describe:--
"The blood-stain'd scourge no tyrants wield,
No groaning slaves enrich the field,
But Health and Labour's willing train
Crowns all thy banks with waving grain;
With beauty decks thy sylvan shades,
With livelier green invests thy glades;
And grace, and bloom, and plenty pours
On thy sweet meads and willowy shores.
The field where herds unnumber'd rove,
The laurell'd path, the beechen grove,
The oak, in lonely grandeur free,
Lord of the forest and the sea;
The spreading plain, the cultured hill,
The tranquil cot, the restless mill,
The lonely hamlet, calm and still;
The village spire, the busy town,
The shelving bank, the rising down,
The fisher's punt, the peasant's home,
The woodland seat, the regal dome,
In quick succession rise to charm
The mind, with virtuous feelings warm;
Till where thy widening current glides,
To mingle with the turbid tides,
Thy spacious breast displays unfurl'd
The ensigns of th' assembled world."
[Illustration: "THAMES HEAD."]
It is now generally accepted that, from times as remote as those which
preceded the Conquest, the highest portion of the river was called the
Thames. The Saxon Chronicles so refer to it, and there is no reason to
suppose that the river crossed by the armies of Ethelwold and Canute
on their expeditions into the land of Mercia was ever known by other
name. How, and when, the river from Cricklade to Oxford acquired the
local name of Isis is not clear; but the idea was probably fairly
started, though not invented, by Camden, who had pretty visions of the
"marriage of the Tame and Isis." "This," wrote he, "is that Isis which
afterwards joining with Tame, by adding the names together, is called
Tamisis, chief of the British rivers, of which we may truly say, as
ancient writers did of Euphrates in the East, that it both plants and
waters Britain." It is sufficient for us now to recognise the fact that
above Oxford the river is impartially spoken of, now as the Thames,
and now as the Isis; and it is rather as a matter of convenience than
of dogmatic purpose that I shall elect henceforth to use the older and
more reasonable name--the Tameses of the Romans, the Temese of the
Saxons, and the Thames of modern days.
Equally fruitful of controversy has been the source of the Thames. It
has long been a question whether this grassy retreat, in which we are
supposed to be lingering, to wit, Thames Head, in the parish of Cotes,
near Cirencester, in the county of Gloucestershire, or Seven Springs,
near Cheltenham, should be regarded as the actual starting-point of
the river. Gloucestershire and Wiltshire, and different portions of
each, have occasionally contended for the honour. Many pages might be
filled with rehearsals of learned argument, and quotations from ancient
authorities, to support conflicting contentions; but I shall presently
invite the reader to follow the course suggested in regard to the name,
and make an arbitrary law unto himself. It is not to be denied that
the balance of acceptation by topographers of olden times pointed to
Thames Head as the generally received source. Leland, sometimes called
the Father of English Antiquaries, settles it thus:--"Isis riseth at 3
myles from Cirencestre, not far from a village cawlled Kemble, within
half a mile of the Fosse-way, wher the very hed of Isis ys. In a great
somer drought there appereth very little or no water, yet is the stream
servid with many of springes resorting to one botom."
[Illustration: THE SOURCES OF THE THAMES.]
Ill, therefore, will fare the visitor to Thames Head, who seeks it, as
I have done, full of poetical fancies and pretty conceits about the
source of rivers in general, and the birthplace of the famous English
stream in particular. However charming he may find the place to be, and
charming it certainly is, he will be doomed to disappointment if he
thinks he has reached the source of our royal stream. I was bound for
the identical spot, as I congratulated myself, where
"From his oozy bed
Old Father Thames advanced his rev'rend head,
His tresses dropped with dews, and o'er the stream
His shining horns diffused a golden gleam."
As we have seen, the explorer will, at first, experience failure in
his endeavour to find, with any satisfactory clearness, either old
Father Thames or his oozy bed. Arrived at the ancient Akeman Street,
or Fosse-way, "3 myles" from Cirencester, a choice of no fewer than
four springs is presented. The village of Cotes, the Roman mound known
as Trewsbury Castle, Trewsbury Mead, and the unromantic chimney of
the Thames and Severn Canal Engine-house are plain enough, here and
there--landmarks, all of them, for the industrious searcher; but there
is no sign of flowing water, or, indeed, of water in repose. You will
look in vain for semblance of a bed which might be that of a river. It
was only after considerable trouble that I obtained any information,
and was guided to this well, named by tradition as the original and
primary source of the Thames, and reached by proceeding for a quarter
of a mile from the high road (where it crosses the railway) along the
walk bordering the Canal.
The reader, however, is hereby invited to regard, not Thames Head, but
Seven Springs, near Cheltenham, as the natural and common-sense source
of the River Thames. Some three miles south of the town, in the parish
of Cubberley, or Coberley, to quote the words of Professor Ramsay, "the
Thames rises not far from the crest of the oolitic escarpment of the
Cotswold Hills that overlook the Severn."
After pausing on the shoulder of Charlton Hill, and admiring--as
who can fail to do?--the magnificent panorama of hill and valley
receding into the mist of distance north and north-east, you proceed
from Cheltenham along the Cirencester road to the crossways. A short
divergence to the right, and a dip in the road brings you to a piece of
wayside turf, with, beyond, a corner shaped like an irregular triangle.
One side of this might be, perhaps, seven yards in length, another
four yards, and the third something between the two. The triangular
depression is reached by one of those little green hillocks so often
to be found on English waysides. The bottom is covered with water,
which, in spite of the place being no-man's-land, is clear as crystal,
and in its deepest part there was not, at the time of my visit, more
than six inches of water. The bed of this open shallow reservoir is not
paved with marble, or even concrete, but is liberally provided with
such unconsidered trifles as the weather or playful children would cast
there. When the wind sets that way a good deal of scum will gather in
the farther corner, formed by two walls. The turf near the water's edge
is worn away, and the green hillock has been trodden into a mere clay
bank by the feet of cattle and men, for it is, as I have said, a patch
of common land abutting upon the road. Overhead, stretched from the
telegraph posts, you may count nine unmistakable wires parallel with
the wall which forms the base of our triangle. On the side farthest
from the road the bank is high. A venerable hawthorn has become wedded
apparently to an equally venerable ash, whose topmost boughs coquette
at close quarters with the telegraph wires. Another ash-tree, at the
outer point of the triangle, leans over the water. Between the trees a
little sloe bush keeps sturdy foothold. You may mark, moreover, a few
straggling briars, bits of silver-weed, a root or two of the meadow
cranesbill, a clump of poverty-stricken meadow-sweet, some fool's
parsley, wild strawberry plants, and a good deal of bold and always
flourishing dandelion. This is the environment of the true source of
the great River Thames. We are at Seven Springs.
Hence multitudinous initials are rudely carved upon the old trees and
on the stone walls; hence strangers, during summer, drive hither and
pay homage. Clear away the scum from the water at the foot of the wall
and a small iron grating explains how the waters, always bubbling clear
and cool from the Seven Springs, pass away. On the other side of the
wall the inflow forms a pond in private grounds. Thence it descends by
a homely fall into a smaller pond, and by yet another insignificant
fall into what for some distance is sometimes little better than a
stagnant ditch. A lower fall, however, of more determined character
than the others, sets in motion a clear rill, which, though tiny in
volume and unpretentious in present aims, sets off upon its gravelly
course as if it knew that by-and-by it would form an estuary upon which
the navies of the world might ride in safety. Just now a child might
leap across. It is a mere thread of water, yet the streamlet begins
at once to proceed in a business-like way under the solid hedgerows
separating the fields, and soon becomes a decided brook. This is a
tangible beginning, at all events. The Seven Springs are on evidence in
a convenient enclosure; they may be recognised as, silently sparkling,
they gush from the bank which gives roothold to the hawthorn and ash;
and the infant river is always in sight from the moment it assumes the
form of a tiny streamlet.
It is difficult to conceive how it has come about that Thames Head on
the one part and Seven Springs on the other have been considered rival
claimants for the honour of being the cradle of the Thames. It is true
that both streams (for Thames Head eventually, by sundry means, becomes
a stream) rise from the eastern slopes of the Cotswolds; but they are
many miles apart, and Thames Head is nearly fifteen miles nearer the
sea than Seven Springs. The rivulet issuing from Seven Springs, and
which presently becomes the River Churn is, in the present day at
least, the distinct stream which continues its unbroken course to the
Nore, and it is the source which is farthest from the mouth of the
Thames.
Leland, nevertheless, writing at the time of Henry VIII., fixes, as
we have seen, upon Thames Head as the source. Stow, with less detail,
adopts the same locality; Camden does likewise; Atkins declares that
the river riseth in the parish of Cotes; Rudder that it has been
reputed "to rise in the parish of Cotes, out of a well." Modern
tourists regularly visit both places, and in great numbers, during the
summer season, and in the case of Thames Head are probably taken now
to the uppermost glade, which I have described, and now to the spring
nearer the engine-house of the Thames and Severn Canal, represented
by the illustration. The neglect of the alleged sources by the local
authorities of both Cirencester and Cheltenham is to be explained,
probably, on the old principle, that what is everybody's is nobody's
business. Since, however, people go in full faith to both Seven Springs
and Thames Head, some record, however simple, might surely be upraised
at both for the enlightenment of the wayfaring man.
Dealing with this question at more length perhaps than the subject
requires, I may be allowed to repeat that in these days there ought to
be no manner of doubt that the natural and legitimate source of the
Thames is that shallow, neglected, triangular pool formed by the Seven
Springs. The Cotswold Hills are, in any case, above dispute as the
cradle-ground of the river, and may be happy with either claimant.
"But Cotswold, be this spoke to th' onely praise of thee,
That thou, of all the rest, the chosen soyle should bee,
Faire Isis to bring forth, the mother of great Tames,
With whose delicious brooks, by whose immortal streames
Her greatnesse is begun."
Following the fortunes of the Seven Springs, you naturally enter with
some degree of zeal into an expedition down the River Churn, and this
you are able to do without losing sight of the excellent road between
Cheltenham and Cirencester. The pretty little dancing trout stream
runs hard by the highway, mostly through a succession of beautiful
estates, and generally thickly overhung with alders and other bushes.
Drayton hit off the character of the stream most accurately in calling
it the "nimble-footed Churn;" and its picturesqueness, and musical
flow between the wooded hills and through the fat meadows, as we near
Cirencester, appeal to us, even on the score of sentiment. Surely it
is more pleasant to identify this as the Thames than that commonplace
current proceeding from the Thames Head series of springs. There is
no necessity, however, to trace in detail the course of the beck-like
Churn, by wooded uplands teeming with game, and through rustic villages
and sequestered grounds. It runs through Rendcombe to North Cerney,
down by Baunton, and through the once famous and still interesting town
of Cirencester. The Fosse-way mentioned in connection with Thames Head
was one of three great Roman roads which met here. Mentioned by Roman
historians as Corinium and Cornovium, the strongly fortified city of
Cirencester, the metropolis of a Roman province was, there is reason
for believing, a considerable British town before it became a Roman
centre. In the time of Henry VIII. the Roman wall surrounding the city
might yet be traced, and, as the histories of Gloucestershire show,
many Roman remains have from time to time been discovered here. The
Churn sustains its brook-like character alongside the Cricklade road
by Addington, South Cerney, and Hailstone Hill, and then within a mile
of the town of Cricklade it unites with the other branch issuing from
Thames Head, to which it is necessary briefly to return, in order to
administer to it the justice already bestowed upon what we have agreed
to regard as the rightful heir, namely, the Seven Springs stream, or
River Churn.
The Thames and Severn Canal is so intimately associated with Thames
Head, and so dominates that particular part of the country, that a few
words respecting it may be spared. Indeed, it has dealings, directly or
indirectly, with the Churn as well as with the Thames Head stream. Not
far from Trewsbury Mead it gives a position to Thames Head Bridge, and
the Canal lies within a few yards of the traditional spring. The first
tributary is formed by a spring issuing from beneath the aqueduct,
and not far from the Canal stands the single-arch watercourse, here
illustrated as practically the first bridge over the Thames. The course
of the Canal, however, almost immediately bears eastward, until it
strikes the Churn, near which it keeps during the remainder of its
independent career. The Thames and Severn Canal is an interesting fact
which the present generation is in danger of forgetting. For many years
the junction of "fair Sabrina" with "lordly Thames" was a burning
question in the commercial worlds of London and Bristol. The merchants
were much fascinated with the speculations in which they indulged. The
Canal scheme was launched in a Bill in the reign of Charles II., and
Mr. Hydrographer Moxon was engaged to survey the ground and prove to
what extent the project was practicable. Pope, in the grandiloquent
language of the time, in a famous letter written at Oakley, Lord
Bathurst's country house at Cirencester, said, "I could pass whole days
in describing the future and as yet visionary beauties that are to rise
in these scenes: the palace that is to be built, the pavilions that
are to glitter, the colonnades that are to adorn them; nay, more, the
meeting of the Thames and Severn, which, when the noble owner has finer
dreams than ordinary, are to be led into each other's embraces, through
secret caverns of not above twelve to fifteen miles, till they rise and
celebrate their marriage in the midst of an immense amphitheatre, which
is to be the admiration of posterity a hundred years hence."
[Illustration: THE FIRST BRIDGE OVER THE THAMES.]
The Canal was completed sixty-eight years after this dream was indulged
in, and in December, 1790, the first Canal boat, laden with coals,
passed through. The Canal is a continuation of the Stroudwater system
from the Severn to Wallbridge, near Stroud, and runs in a devious
course from that point to Lechlade. It is thirty miles long, forty-two
feet broad at the top, and thirty feet at the bottom. Between Stroud
and Sapperton the water is raised 241 feet in less than eight miles, by
means of locks.
Returning now to the lower spring of the Thames Head group, the course
of this branch of the river may be traced from the expanded water
giving growth to the ancient watercress bed, and receiving its first
modest tributary rill from the spring proceeding from under the Canal
aqueduct. Hence the brook meanders through meadows, and, near the
railway, passes under the roadway. The village of Kemble lies half a
mile back, and the stream passes under and alongside the road from
Kemble to Ewen, beneath a considerable culvert, or trio of culverts.
The first mill on the Thames was, in former times, at Ewen; but a cosy
farmhouse now occupies the site, and the water which in former days set
the drowsy wheel in motion is turned aside for sheep-washing purposes.
The first mill now is Somerford Upper Mill, with its pretty setting of
elm-trees, and charming rural surroundings. Somerford Keynes, on the
elevated ground to the left, was bestowed as a marriage gift upon Ralph
de Kaineto by Henry I., and an ancient charter granted to the Abbot
Aldelm of Malmesbury contains the following incidental reference to the
river as the Thames:--"Cujus vocabulum Temis juxta vadum qui appellatur
Somerford."
Throughout the varied and interesting voyage upon which we are embarked
the spires and towers of churches will be ever present, graceful and
welcome features of many a landscape, now set upon a hill like a city
which cannot be hid, now half concealed by mantling ivies, and shunning
observation amongst the rugged elms which shelter their roofs and
windows. The square tower of venerable All Saints, Somerford Keynes, is
one of the earliest to claim attention as a typical parish church of
rural England, very dignified in its age, and in its maternal relation
to the cottages around the churchyard. The stream not far below this
point serves another rustic mill, and a noticeable object later on is
a homely foot-bridge supported by upright slabs of stone. At Ashton
Keynes there are sundry small bridges spanning the current, soon to be
sensibly increased in depth and width by Swill Brook, whose proportions
have for the last mile of its course been not inferior to those of the
Thames Head stream. The young River Thames was once, as is supposed,
navigable to Water Hay Bridge for boats of moderate size; but this must
have been before the aqueduct of the North Wilts Canal crossed it, or
West Mill was built.
The ancient town of Cricklade reconciles any differences, and
effectually ends all disputes as to individual claimants, by affording
the two branches an opportunity of uniting their forces a short
distance below the bridge. Here the Churn, from its north-western
source, merges into the stream which has been always apparently called
by the name of Thames. In this district it formed the boundary of the
forest of Braden in the time of Canute. James Thorne, in his accurately
written "Rambles by Rivers," does no injustice to the town of Cricklade
when he speaks of it as dull to look at, dull to live in, and no less
dull to talk about. There is, indeed, little about which to talk in
connection with it, though we may, in passing, smile on recalling
Drayton's words in his "Polyolbion"--
"Greeklade whose great name yet vaunts that learned tongue
Where to Great Britain first the sacred Muses sung,
Who first were seated here at Isis' bounteous head,
As telling that her fame should through the world be spread."
It has been alleged by certain authorities that a college here, founded
by a school of ancient philosophers, became famous for its Greek
learning, and hence the name of the town. It has also been insisted
that a few miles down the river a rival college, maintained with
similar success in the Latin interests, gave a name to the community
which lived under its learned shadow; or, as Fuller said, "The Muses
swam down the stream of the River Isis to be twenty miles nearer to the
rising sun." In this manner fanciful writers have sought to explain the
origin of the words Cricklade and Lechlade.
[Illustration: CRICKLADE.]
Cricklade is important to lovers of the Thames as being the first
definite station on its upper waters. From the southern watershed come,
besides the Swill Brook, the Dance and the Rey. The last-named, a
contribution from the range of hills around Swindon, has been thought
worthy by a few enthusiasts of the distinction of contesting with
Thames Head and Seven Springs the responsibilities of parentage. The
Thames passes under a plank bridge at Cricklade, and becomes very
shallow before receiving the tributaries above indicated. Thames
tourists rarely push their explorations so high as Cricklade, which,
other than two well-preserved specimens of fourteenth-century crosses
(as is conjectured), and the prominent share in the landscape taken
by St. Mary's Church and churchyard, as seen from Eisey foot-bridge,
offers few attractions to the visitor. The scenery of the river hereto,
and in truth for many a mile to come, is of a pleasing order, yet on a
small and unpretentious scale. Farmhouses, with their surroundings of
rick-yard and orchard; hamlets and villages in sleepy remove from the
noisy world; a country house set in blooming gardens at odd intervals;
pasture land and grain-fields, separated by old-fashioned hedges that
are gay with flowers in spring and summer, with deeply-hued berries
in the mellow autumn;--on every hand and at every turn these form the
landscape. The river itself, so far, claims no particular notice, calls
for no warmth of admiration. It makes no noise, performs no astonishing
feats, inspires no terrors, but steals tranquilly through the meadows,
and silently flows by the plentiful rushes which, unmolested, protect
its banks in these remote reaches.
Castle Eaton Bridge, over four miles below Cricklade town, is perhaps
the centre of the best of the rural scenery of this district, but it
demands no special pause. The church tower, which shows boldly above
the meadow, two miles farther on, belongs to Kempsford. King Harold was
once a property-owner here. William the Conqueror subsequently gave the
manor to one of his Norman soldiers, and, as was not uncommon in early
days, it ultimately fell into possession of Mother Church, by whom, at
the time of dissolution, it was disgorged and granted to the Thynne
family. The edifice upon the river-side was probably built in the
fourteenth century. There was also a castle at Kempsford, of which a
fragment of window and a bit of wall remain, and a portion of the tower
known as the Gunners' Room. The occupants of the Gunners' Room, when
the building was habitable, had the advantage of looking out upon the
river. A horseshoe nailed to the church-door long sustained the legend
that when powerful Henry, Duke of Lancaster, the builder of the church,
was quitting the place for ever, his horse cast a shoe, which the
inhabitants nailed up in proud remembrance of the honour. The traces of
an old weir, as we proceed downwards with such speed as the thickets
of reeds and weeds will allow, if we are attempting the passage in a
boat, remind us that in days when even inconsiderable streams were
valuable as highways for barge and boat traffic the channel of the
Thames was not so neglected as it will in these days be found. In other
respects also its character has doubtless changed, as indicated by the
stepping-stones across the foundation of the weir-sill, upon which the
passenger, during summer level, may step dryshod from bank to bank.
Below Hannington Bridge (with Highworth Church in the distance), the
rushy pool, almost choked up with aquatic growths, still bears the
name of Ham Weir. A sharp northerly bend in the river opposite the
village of Upper Inglesham marks the separating-point of Berks and
Wilts. Born in Gloucestershire, the Thames has latterly diverged for a
brief excursion into Wilts, but now returns again, and from Kempsford
until, a few miles onward, Oxfordshire is entered, it is the boundary
between Gloucestershire and the southern counties of Wilts and Berks.
The River Cole joins the Thames on the eastern bank. The little stream,
in a charming Berkshire valley lying south, has given a name to Lord
Radnor's mansion, Coleshill, famous as a perfect specimen of the style
of Inigo Jones, and it arrives, accordingly, with some degree of repute
on its own account.
[Illustration: INGLESHAM ROUND HOUSE.]
For many years the highest weir upon the Thames was at Inglesham, known
for the picturesque church, with its bell-turret overlooking the river,
and the remarkable piece of carved stone in the porch wall, but of more
interest to us as the meeting-place of the Coln, the Thames and Severn
Canal, and the Thames.
The Canal we have already glanced at. The Coln is a trout stream of
some value, but it receives its fame principally from association with
the town of Fairford; and Fairford is famous because of the painted
church windows supposed to have been designed by Albert Dürer. The
Round House at Inglesham is the final lock-house of the Thames and
Severn Canal, and it indicates the stage at which the Thames becomes
a river of importance. It is broader and deeper than heretofore, and
was once navigable for barges of from thirty to seventy tons burden,
drawing four feet of water; but a channel of such proportions has not
existed for many years, and the river threatens to lose all pretensions
to a waterway before long, unless its guardians dredge to more purpose
than they have done in recent years. Once upon a time, when the ports
of Bristol and London were not connected by railway, there was constant
traffic through Inglesham Lock, and the Round House was a conspicuous
beacon for the bargees of the period; but the lock-keeper's berth has,
it is needless to explain, in modern days become a sinecure. The angler
at this meeting of the waters is the gainer, and his practised eye will
mark the juncture as a probable haunt of the voracious pike.
The Highworth road is carried by a substantial one-arch bridge (to the
left of the compass of the illustration on the next page) over the
river at Lechlade, and in the fields, half a mile below, we arrive at
the first lock on the Thames. There are a lock-house and garden to rest
in, Thames Conservancy notices to be read, and ancient lock-keeping
folk to talk with. It is a very old lock. In the natural order of
things it cannot last much longer, and at no distant date, no doubt,
it will give place to one of the more useful, but infinitely more
prosaic, affairs of iron, with modern improvements in the machinery,
which the Conservancy supplies when it is necessary to replace the
original structures. The partly-decayed boards, the hand-rail rising
from their outer edge, the lock gates patched many a time, and thinned
in regard to their outer casing by many a winter flood, have done
their work, and stand in weather-worn picturesqueness, all awry, doing
their remaining duty as best they may. Looking westward, the spire of
Lechlade Church, and, indeed, its tower and the greater part of the
body of the building, shaded with ivy, make a very harmonious object of
middle distance. The village, neat, substantial, and mature, rallies
round it, with woods extending on either hand, and at its left flank
stands the well-built, arched structure, which may be said to be the
first bridge worthy of the name upon the river. It will be, perhaps,
half a mile from the lock to the bridge, as the crow flies, but the
Thames winds among the flat meadows in serpentine twists. Still
farther on the line of the horizon, as, seated on the lever-beam used
for opening the lock, we look westward, is a little picket of six
poplars, marking the whereabouts of the solitary Round House, which
substantially marks the limit of the navigable part of the Thames. The
scene, thus comprising woods, village, church, bridge, and the long
line of low trees terminated by poplars, is peculiarly English, and
of a character that we shall see reproduced in endless variety--every
prospect pleasing--until the last lock is reached at Teddington. But
this is the first lock, 144 miles from London Bridge, and 125 from
Teddington weir. Between the two there are many subjects of interest;
but there is only one first lock, and upon this we may bestow closer
attention than common. In the meadow is a big hawthorn on which the
hips are already forming, and on a hot summer day the dairy kine will
find shelter, lazily flicking the flies from their hides. Haycocks
are plentiful on all sides. Yonder the men are hoisting a load of
sweet-smelling hay upon the rick. Farther in the distance a late
crop is falling in regular swathes; and when the gurgle of the water
escaping from the dilapidated lock-gates moderates for a moment we can
hear the mower whetting his scythe. The meadow upon which the first
Thames Conservancy notice board has been erected, opposite the neat
lock cottage, has not, it seems, been laid down for hay this year,
and so offers a variety for the satisfaction of the artistic eye--to
wit, masses of newly-shorn sheep lying on the grass, and dappled kine
steadily feeding, what time the swallows and swifts are hawking around,
and small birds warble in the reeds.
[Illustration: LECHLADE--THE FIRST LOCK.]
The Thames hereabouts, notwithstanding the prevailing officialism, is
very modest. At the period of my last visit I found that there had been
no floods for eighteen months; and the river, as our boatman put it,
had long wanted washing out. In its widest part in the neighbourhood
of the first lock it is not more than twenty yards from bank to bank,
and on each side there are thick margins of bull-rush, sedge, and
flag. The water is fairly deep, but cumbered with masses of weeds,
out of which spring the tall rank stems of water-parsnip, while here
and there small, compact, yellow water-lilies gleam like moidores on
a silver plate. The river runs parallel with the lock channel under
St. John's Bridge, a comparatively new and good-looking structure of
one arch. It is about a mile from the town of Lechlade, and near it
is the old-fashioned "Trout" Inn, still maintaining all the homely
characteristics of the English countryside inn. A great sycamore
overshadows it; there is an old-fashioned garden at the rear, and
its little orchard, with a noble walnut-tree in the centre, offers a
pathway to the pool. There is something in the semblance of a weir at
St. John's Bridge, though it is of the most rudimentary kind, having
fallen naturally into decay, and even into desuetude. Still, the small
sluices are occasionally lifted, and serviceable streams are formed to
keep the pool in motion, and prevent the patriarchal trout from giving
notice to quit. At the end of St. John's Bridge tradition placed the
priory of Black Canons, but of this there is no more substantial record
than that of ink and paper. A few yards beyond the garden, on the left
bank, the River Lech creeps into the Thames.
The regulation towpath exists from this point downwards, but for miles
to come it is, like the boundaries of counties, a generally invisible
line. The path is never trampled by horses, since barge traffic is
unknown. For the towage of pleasure boats it is occasionally used,
though these upper regions are rarely indeed penetrated by tourists.
This is a pity; for there are a quietude and utter rurality about the
river from Lechlade till within the precincts of Oxford that will be
looked for in vain upon the busier haunts. Farther down there are
glimpses--samples, so to speak--of what we have here in the bulk. We
shall here find none of those notable Thames scenes that have been
written about and painted from the olden times to the present day.
Progressing from Lechlade downwards you feel altogether removed from
the haunts of men. A patient angler sitting in his home-made boat under
the overhanging boughs of a tree you will occasionally pass, and the
presence of labourers toiling in the meadows informs you that this is
not wholly a sleepy hollow. But river traffic, in the common meaning
of the term, there is none. For a whole day you will probably not meet
a boat; and there is no necessity to sigh for a lodge in some vast
wilderness, some boundless contiguity of space, seeing that you have so
excellent a substitute at hand. The solitude is, in truth, delightful.
As you drop down between the banks you see drawn up in review order
regiments of familiar friends--the dark glossy leaves of the water
dock, bursting into seed in July; huge clumps of blue forget-me-nots
that can only be plucked from a boat; ox-eyed daisies, well above
high-water mark, gleaming as fixed stars in the floral firmament; the
yellow-flowering great watercress, the purple loose-strife beginning to
blossom, yellow iris, the white flowers of the common watercress, the
pink persicaria, meadow-sweet, the comfreys, and sometimes a clump of
arrowheads. From one to another flits the superb dragon-fly:--
"One almost fancies that such happy things,
With coloured hoods and richly-burnished wings,
Are fairy folk, in splendid masquerade
Disguised, as if of mortal folk afraid;
Keeping their joyous pranks a mystery still,
Lest glaring day should do their secrets ill."
A mile and a half of winding and uniformly narrow river brings us to
rare old Buscot. The days of its weather-stained lock and weir are
numbered too, but so long as they remain they will be, in conjunction,
an object such as the artist loves, and a reminder to us all of other
days when the world was not so jaded as now, when things were not
so new, and when the ways of men were more primitive. There is a
very fine tumbling bay on the farther side of the weir, and a sharp
sweep of swiftly-running water coursing over a gravelly shallow,
upon which the trout come out to feed at eventide, and the silvery
dace and bleak poise in happy security during the long summer days.
One is tempted naturally to land at the little village. The square,
solid, countryfied-looking church tower, surrounded by old trees, and
approached through a flower-garden, suggests, as your boat pauses at
the lock, that it will be better to spend a quarter of an hour afoot
than in the tedious process of passing through. Buscot is not a large
or a pretentious place, but it is pleasant to look at, and deserves
mention in passing, as giving name to the first weir of goodly size. A
particularly pretty bit of the river, winding, tree-lined, and narrow,
is followed by a long unromantic stretch.
Quaint, time-honoured Hart's Weir is so little a weir that the ordinary
boat shoots the open half on the strength of a miniature rapid
representing, at a summer level of the river, a fall of three or four
inches only. The water there opens out into a wide bay that is purling
rather than tumbling; and this is succeeded, in the ordinary course of
nature, by a silted-up shallow, densely covered in their season with
the white, yellow-eyed blossoms of the water crowfoot. Kelmscott on
the north, and Eaton Hastings on the south, are the nearest villages.
The banks of the Thames are now clearly defined by those trees which
love to spread their branches to a river. The Thames does not, like the
Loddon, encourage a monopoly of alder, but favours rather the familiar
willow, the Lombardy poplar, and the plentiful hawthorn. Clumps of old
elms, most picturesque of English trees when standing on village green,
or as a rearguard to church or manor-house, vary the prospect. White
and red wild roses are plentiful in the higher reaches of the river,
and every turn of the narrow stream offers new combinations of wood and
field:--
"No tree in all the grove but has its charms,
Though each its hue peculiar; paler some,
And of a wannish grey; the willow such,
And poplar, that with silver lines his leaf,
And ash far-stretching his umbrageous arm;
Of deeper green the elm; and deeper still,
Lord of the woods, the long surviving oak."
After Hart's Weir the Thames settles down to an interval of
insignificance. There is an indescribably soothing influence exercised
by a river in the soft mood which characterises the Thames throughout.
How pleasant it is to be simply moving with the current, which does so
much and is heard so little. Loud, even, by comparison with the murmur
of the waters, is the sighing of the breezes amongst the shock heads of
the willows, and the silver shiver of the poplars. Under the spell of
this influence the prosaic features of a reach like that between Hart's
Weir and Radcot serve as a foil for the more lovely objects. Besides,
occasional descents from the higher platforms of admiration, to which
special points of interest are apt to summon you, give time for
reflection and observation. Thus you will not be long in discovering
that in these veritably upper reaches of the Thames what of animal life
is still left may be seen without let or hindrance. The birds here are
in no danger from the cockney fowler's gun. Amongst the water-fowl the
most frequent appearance is that of the common moor-hen, which breeds
as freely as ever, and still maintains its character as amongst the
tamest of our wild birds. The coot is less often seen, but the heron
will be often disturbed from its busy occupation on the shallows.
Even in much-frequented reaches of the Thames the heron may still be
descried at a distance, shy, watchful, and wary. On both of the days
occupied by my voyage from Lechlade to Oxford I saw herons. They may
have travelled twenty miles from the heronry for their nightly or
early-morning forage, but you rarely can approach them within gunshot.
The bird is most artful and shy at all times; but I have always fancied
that the herons of the Thames Valley are the most wideawake of all.
They hear the thump, thump of the rowlocks half a mile off, rise from
their depredations, and wing their way slowly into the centre of a
field; or perchance you may see one doing sentry on the upper boughs of
a tall tree.
Between Hart's Weir and Radcot Bridge I descry three "herns" in one
meadow that had been so disturbed by our gliding boat. As they stand
motionless and lank in the fields, on a fence, or in the tree-tops,
only a practised eye can identify them. In summer-time, though rarely,
you put up a couple of wild ducks from the main river. The boating man,
as may be supposed, meets with less bird life than the pedestrian, who,
stealthily walking on the grass, will often obtain a passing flash of
a kingfisher, or witness the alarmed flight of rarer birds. My July
voyage brings me into constant companionship with troops of the wanton
lapwing, in glorious plumage and full of noisy life; rooks, as a matter
of course, busy, self-satisfied, and radiant in their blue-black
vesture; swallows, swifts, sand martins, and reed warblers. The common
sandpiper is about upon the shallows where the streams run swiftly,
and the elegant water wagtails abound. At intervals throughout the
day, near shrubby undergrowths and open meadows, the music of skylark,
thrush, or blackbird charms the ear, though the eye seeks in vain the
whereabouts of the performer. Four-footed creatures are few. The merry
vole is an exception, and in some of the woods the cautious searcher
may find squirrels in active play. The otter, seldom seen by the human
eye in broad daylight, is plentiful enough in the earlier stages of the
Thames, and of them, as of other wild creatures, it may be generally
said that they are not so harried and wantonly destroyed as in the
middle and lower parts of the river.
Radcot Bridge, of which we catch sight three miles from Hart's Weir,
is understood to be one of the oldest bridges on the Thames, and its
appearance is quite in character with this theory; moreover, it is
an interesting piece of stonework, apart from its age, its three
Gothic arches being curiously ribbed underneath. There is a very steep
ascent to the crown, and over the centre arch is still preserved
the socket in which, on the crest of bridges, the sacred cross was
wont to be uplifted. There are, in point of fact, two bridges at
Radcot, but the "real original" is the antique three-arched affair
to the right, as we drop down. The river is here divided, a short
cut to facilitate navigation and deepen the channel forming a new
departure. The old stream wanders round, when the weeds will allow it,
under the ribbed arches, leaving the channel of the new cut, like a
newly-come tradesman who has a contempt for the old-fogeyish methods
of the ancient inhabitants, to transact its business merrily, with
promptness and despatch. For a couple of miles or so the Thames has
now all the essential characteristics of a trout stream, with eddying
pools and golden shallows, over which the water ripples at a moderate
depth and at sparkling pace. In the hands of patient fish culturists
and preservers this portion of the river might be made, no doubt, a
trout stream; but salmo fario is as yet the least abundant of Thames
fishes. What are called the coarse fish, or summer spawners, are on the
contrary abundant, and most plentiful of all, under the willowy banks
of the meadows, are the chub, which, for want of better game, afford
passable sport to the fly-fisher, who, from the towpath, ought to be
able to command any portion of the Thames at this stage of its course.
In the wide deep pools marking the sites of old weirs, of which little
trace but the piers remain, there should be, and as a matter of fact
is, excellent angling for perch and pike.
[Illustration: RADCOT BRIDGE.]
Because the Thames has been so much praised, and so much the subject
of picture and poem, it does not follow that it is all pleasing to the
eye. After leaving Radcot Bridge, and with the exception of these
pools, once foaming and noisy with the action of the descending water,
some indifferently furnished reaches have to be passed--reaches that
are almost canal-like in the straightness of their course and in the
uninteresting character of the low-lying land on either side. The
country immediately bordering on the river is sparsely populated, and
the world must revolve somewhat slowly for those who live there. Some
indication of this may be gathered from the fact that at Rushy Lock,
where there is a fine weir and pool, we had the pleasure of being our
own lock keeper, opening the heavy gates, letting in the water, and
releasing ourselves. The labour accomplished, a small urchin of six
years of age was sharp enough to put in an appearance in time to take
the toll; it was evident, however, that traffic was so unexpected
that he alone had been left in charge, Indeed, during one whole day's
progress we met but two boats.
Tadpole Bridge, a substantial structure of one span, between four and
five miles below Radcot, carries the road from Bampton, where Phillips,
the author of an almost forgotten work, "The Splendid Shilling," was
born. The singular spire of Bampton Church is seen from Radcot Bridge,
the view from which also includes Faringdon Hill, and some effective
wooded heights around. The few tourists who make a pilgrimage from the
source to the mouth of the Thames, or those who visit these stations
for a sojourn of greater or lesser duration, turn aside from the river
and visit both Faringdon and Bampton. At Faringdon any traces of the
houses which withstood the hard knocks of the Cromwellian period are
gone; nothing but the site remains, and that only as a vague tradition,
of the castle built by the supporters of Queen Matilda, and pulled down
by the supporters of King Stephen. Sir Edward Unton, who was Queen
Elizabeth's ambassador at the French Court, is buried in the church.
Bampton, on the Oxfordshire side, is half town and half village, and
it has an indirect connection with the Thames, although it is some
distance from its banks, because the steeple, to which I have already
referred, is a striking mark upon the landscape. Not without reason has
the character of singularity been applied to it. From a square tower
rises an octagon steeple, with belfry windows; pinnacles at each corner
form basements of statues, and these are supported by slabs resting at
right angles against the steeple. Skelton says that the church contains
examples of almost every period of architecture, from the Conquest to
the reign of George III. It has a fine Norman porch, an inner arch that
is much admired, brasses, and a series of sculptures, probably work of
the fifteenth century.
There is not much material for description in the next few miles.
The river seems occasionally to lessen rather than increase in size,
and right and left you look in vain for anything worthy of inquiry
or admiration, save the comfortable old farmhouses and homesteads,
environed by the usual clump of characteristic elms; and, at farther
distance from the river, here and there a country mansion, secure in
the privacy of its trim park, suggesting always the happy language of
the poetess:--
"The stately homes of England, how beautiful they stand,
Amid their tall ancestral trees o'er all the pleasant land."
It is not till you have passed below Tadpole Bridge that the first beds
of white lilies challenge attention. The lilies hitherto have been of
the small yellow description; but now, in sheltered bays, thick beds
of the gorgeous white variety shine gloriously from between the large
glossy leaves. They are, fortunately, out of the line of every-day
Thames traffic, and are so spared to develop to maturity in waters
to which the steam-launch has not yet penetrated. About two miles
below Tadpole one's attention cannot fail to be arrested by the high,
skeleton-like, weather-worn bridge called Tenfoot Weir. This is another
site of a weir long fallen into disuse. The wooden bridge consists of
a central arch, or compartment, of staging set twenty feet high, with
steep flights of steps on either side, the central division marking
the outline of the old weir. A thatched cottage and thickly clustering
willows in the bend which is here formed by the course of the river
present an extremely picturesque variety to the monotonous character
of the previous mile of the Thames. Another object of interest will
be found a little lower down, at Duxford Ferry. Alongside a clump of
willows lies a "sheer hulk," representing one of the long, narrow
canal boats used when barges regularly plied where there is no water
to float them now. Close to the blackened, slimy timbers of the wreck
a promising family of calves cluster, as if pondering in bovine fancy
over the former glories of the defunct craft and the industry it
typified. A comfortable group of farm-buildings, thatched and tiled,
nestles at the head of the ferry, which is not furnished with the usual
horse-boat, for the simple reason that it may be crossed without any
such assistance. A child might walk across on the hard gravelly shallow
at ordinary times without being more than knee deep. It is, however,
more than twenty yards wide, and the stream concentrates immediately
afterwards to a width of not more than twenty feet; but it remains
shallow.
There are two or three fords in the course of the next few miles, all
of the same character. A rather notable one is that at Shifford. The
legend runs that in the locality Alfred the Great held one of his
earliest Parliaments, and there and then gathered "many thanes, many
bishops, and many learned men, proud earls, and awful knights." This
was to a great extent Canute's country. A mile or two on the Berkshire
side of the river, near Bucklands, is kept the Pusey horn, given to the
family by that king. The inscription upon it is, "I, King Knoude, give
William Pewse this horne to holde by thy londe." There are some doubts,
however, as to whether these letters are not of later date than the
time of Canute. At Longworth, another village, there are the remains of
an ancient encampment, Cherbury Camp, and here, it is said, a palace of
Canute's once stood.
The River Windrush, a more considerable tributary than any previously
received by the Thames, flows into the parent river from the north at
Newbridge. The point of debouchment might, by reason of the weeds and
rushes in the water and overhanging bushes of the banks, be easily
overlooked by a casual observer, and the Windrush, in this peculiarity,
closely resembles other feeders of the Thames, in looking its meanest
where it offers its volume to the parent river. The Windrush is one of
the Cotswold brood, and at Bourton-on-the-Water it becomes a valuable
trout stream. Great Barrington, whose freestone quarry furnished
the stone for Christopher Wren's restoration of Westminster Abbey,
is opposite the village of Windrush; the river afterwards enters
Oxfordshire, and by the peculiar quality of its waters gives to the
town of Witney a special pre-eminence in the whiteness of the blankets
produced by its fulling mills. The river is thirty-five miles long from
source to inlet to the Thames.
[Illustration: THE FERRY, BABLOCK HYTHE.]
The oldest, and in truth the oldest looking, stone bridge on the Thames
is called Newbridge, and this we approach below the place where Alfred
held his Parliament. The bridge is an excellent sample of old English
masonry. It has been Newbridge for at least 600 years now, yet its
groined arches and projecting piers seem as strong to-day as ever they
have been. A public-house accommodates the traveller on either side
of the bridge, one of them replacing a mill that perished for lack of
customers. Strange to say, the river seems immediately to change its
character when we have passed through these ancient arches. Not only is
the presence of a couple of working barges, with gaily-painted posts of
primary colours and vivid figure-subjects painted upon the panelling
of the deck cabin aft, evidence that another era in the commercial
character of the river is beginning, but the Thames, almost without
warning, becomes wider and deeper, and altogether more like the Thames
as we know it at the popular stations above the City boundaries, though
of course it is still the Thames in miniature. The barges come in these
days no farther than this station, and their business is mostly one not
unconnected with coal. These boats, moored near the old bridge, seem
to remind us that although heretofore we might have cherished the fancy
that the Thames was almost an idyllic trout stream, lending grace to a
rural district, it must henceforth be considered as being a recognised
water highway with a mission that becomes more and more important as
the distance to London Bridge is lessened. It is quite a remarkable
change, and in a few moments your estimate of the river changes also.
It is a thing now of laws and regulations. The very foliage on the
banks seems to be of a more permanent character. Hitherto the Thames
has been struggling with an indefinite career before it, winding
through the meadows, streaming over the shallows, not quite certain
whether it was to have a respectable position or not. But after
Newbridge it has set up a substantial establishment, wherefore--Isis
though it still may be and is called by the good Oxford people--it is
to all intents and purposes Old Father Thames. We have seen the Seven
Springs rill in its infancy and the Thames in its boyhood and lusty
youth; here, however, it enters upon its early manhood.
[Illustration: CUMNOR CHURCHYARD.]
Opposite Harrowden Hill, and to the west of Newbridge, Standlake Common
may be explored by whosoever would benefit by its attractions, which,
truth to tell, are very scanty. Snipe undoubtedly enjoy its boggy
virtues during the winter; but the common is a marshy tract at best,
and those who pass on to the village for the sake of its church of
Early English architecture, and the farmhouse said to be built by John
o'Gaunt and Joan his wife, do not care to linger there.
We shall pass two weir-pools, long disused, between Newbridge and
Bablock Hythe, namely, Langley, or Ridge's Weir, and Ark, or Noah's Ark
Weir. These and previous weirs referred to are of the very simplest
kind, and, except in the two instances mentioned, perform their service
independently of a lock. The object of this simple form of weir is to
dam the river to the required height for such purposes as mill heads or
navigation. The business is accomplished by the working of flood gates
or paddles in grooves, and between rymers, to the sill at the bottom.
In winter there may be a swift stream through the weirs, but, the weir
paddles being withdrawn, there is very little fall. Shooting the weir
stream--one of the adventurous feats of the upper navigation--is an
amusement unknown below Oxford, and at times it is not without its
risks.
[Illustration: STANTON HARCOURT CHURCH.]
Although Bablock Hythe by road is not much more than five miles from
Oxford, the circuitous voyage by Thames is twelve miles. Bablock Hythe
is a well-known station on the Upper Thames, albeit it does not boast
the rank of hamlet or village, and has for the accommodation of man
and beast only one of the small old-fashioned inns of the humblest
sort, where the rooms are low, the beams big and solid, the floors
flagged, and the apartments fitted up with all manner of three-corner
cupboards and antique settles. The great ferry-boat, however, gives it
a decided position of importance, and it is known to Thames tourists
principally as the starting-point for visiting either Cumnor or Stanton
Harcourt. Most people probably go to Cumnor from Oxford, the distance
being only about three miles; but many are glad to make it an excuse
for halting on the somewhat monotonous ascent of the river. The reader
needs scarcely to be reminded that Cumnor Place has been made immortal
by the pages of Sir Walter Scott, and that the sorrows of Amy Robsart
have been wept over by the English-speaking race in all parts of the
world. There is an inn at Cumnor still called after that hostelry
over which Giles Gosling firmly ruled, and in the church there is a
monument sacred to the virtues of Tony Fire-the-fagot and his family,
who are thus handed down to posterity in a far different character from
that suggested by Sir Walter as pertaining to the tool of the villain
Varney. Cumnor is on the Berkshire side, and on the Oxford side is
Stanton Harcourt, visited for the sake of the remains of its ancient
mansion, and its fine church. Visitors, probably, would not make the
journey exclusively in the interests of either one or the other, nor
of the two large upright stones called the Devil's Quoits, which one
historian conjectures were erected to commemorate the battle fought in
614 between the Saxons and the Britons.
[Illustration: EYNSHAM WEIR.]
The real attraction of Stanton Harcourt is historical, and historical
in several degrees. It was one of the vast estates which fell as loot
to the half-brother of William the Conqueror, and was evidently a
considerable possession. For more than 600 years the manor continued
in the Harcourt family. Little is left of the grand mansion in which
the lords of Stanton Harcourt dwelt. The Harcourt family gave it up as
a place of residence towards the close of the seventeenth century, and
it fell forthwith to decay. With the exception of the porter's lodge,
the arms on each side of the gate, showing that it was erected by Sir
Simon Harcourt, who died in 1547, and some upper rooms in the small
remaining part of the house adjoining the kitchen, are all that remain.
But there is a more recent historical interest attaching to Stanton
Harcourt; in a habitable suite of rooms in the deserted mansion Pope
passed the greater part of two summers, and to this day the principal
apartment bears the name of Pope's study. The little man required quiet
and retirement during his translation of the Fifth Book of Homer, and
upon one of the panes of glass he wrote, in the year 1718, "Alexander
Pope finished here the fifth volume of Homer." The Harcourts, however,
removed this pane to Nuneham Courtney, where it is preserved--a piece
of red stained glass, six inches by two. The old Stanton Harcourt
kitchen, converted to modern uses, was always a curiosity, and Dr.
Plott, the Oxford historian, says of it, "It is so strangely unusual
that, by way of riddle, one may truly call it either a kitchen within a
chimney or a kitchen without one, for below it is nothing but a large
square, and octangular above, ascending like a tower, the fires being
made against the walls, and the smoke climbing up them without any
tunnels or disturbance to the cooks, which, being stopped by a large
conical roof at the top, goes out at loopholes on every side, according
as how the wind sets, the loopholes at the side next the wind being
shut by folding doors, and the adverse side open."
The visitor at Stanton Harcourt should certainly not neglect an
inspection of the beautiful church, said to be the finest in the
country. It is cruciform in shape, and has a massive tower. The nave
is Norman, of about the twelfth century, and according to "a custom
established there time immemorial" the men entered through a large,
and the women through a small, doorway. A wooden roof to the nave is
understood to have been added in the fourteenth century, while the
chancel, transepts, and tower arches are of the thirteenth. The oaken
rood screen is reputed to be the oldest wooden partition of the kind in
the country. The Harcourt aisle or chapel, erected about the same time
as the mansion, is an example of the enriched Perpendicular style of
Henry VII., and it is still the burial-place of the ancient Harcourt
family. In the chapel, as in the body of the church, are several
interesting monuments, and one of them is famous. In Gough's sepulchral
monuments, where it is engraved, the following description is given:--
[Illustration: CROSS AT EYNSHAM.]
"This monument of Sir Robert Harcourt of that place, Knight of the
Garter, ancestor of the Earl of Harcourt; and Margaret his wife,
daughter of Sir John Byron, of Clayton, Lancashire, Knight, ancestor
of Lord Byron. He was Sheriff of Lancashire and Warwickshire, 1445,
elected Knight of the Garter 1463, commissioned with Richard Neville,
Earl of Warwick, and others, to treat of a peace between Edward IV. and
Louis XI. of France, 1467, and was slain on the part of the House of
York, by the Staffords, of the Lancastrian party, November 14th, 1472.
His figure represents him in his hair, gorget of mail, plated armour,
strapped at the elbows and wrists, large hilted sword at left side,
dagger at right, his belt charged with oak leaves, hands bare, a kind
of ruffle turned back at his wrists, shoes of scaled armour, order of
Garter on left leg, and over all the mantle of the Garter, with a rich
cape and cordon; his head reclines on a helmet, with his crest, a swan;
at his feet a lion. His lady, habited in a veil head-dress falling
back, has a mantle and surcoat and cordon, and a kind of short apron,
long sleeves fastened in a singular manner at the waist, and the Order
of the Garter round her left arm; her feet are partly wrapped up in her
mantle."
The Thames takes a northerly course from Bablock Hythe, and winds and
doubles in such contortions that in one part a strip of not more than
twelve yards of meadow separates two reaches of considerable length.
A high, wide wooden bridge, bearing the name of Skinner's Weir, now
crosses our course, and soon we come to Pinkhill Lock, so called from
a farm of that name in the neighbourhood. The weir is a new one,
a great contrast in its severe and formal cut to the weather-worn
structures to which we have been accustomed. The lock-house is quite a
dainty cottage, and the garden one of the prettiest to be found along
the Thames. The lock garden is generally a winsome little preserve,
with its kitchen garden, flower-beds, sometimes a beehive, its stack
of fagots, and a general air of rusticity; but the lock-keeper, or
probably his wife, at Pinkhill Weir has devoted special care and
attention to a flower-bed running the whole length of the lock,
which I found to be bordered by a blaze of summer flowers, prominent
amongst which were white and blue cornflowers. From the lock bridge a
commanding view is obtained of the hilly country to the right, and the
woods and copses around its base, and straggling to the top.
The telegraph wires along Eynsham Road detract considerably from
the rural flavour of the surroundings, and Eynsham Bridge itself
does not look so old as it really is. It is a very conspicuous, and,
indeed, handsome structure, with eight arches and a liberal amount of
balustrading in the central divisions of the parapets. Eynsham, Ensham,
Eynesham, or Emsham, has a history which goes beyond the Conquest,
and it is by right, therefore, that the bridge is named after the
village, though its real name, as decided by the Ordnance Map, is
Swinford Bridge. Early in the eleventh century an abbey was founded
here by the then Earl of Cornwall, and Ethelred, the reigning king,
signed the privilege of liberty with the sign of the holy cross. At the
Dissolution the abbey and its site passed into the ownership of the
Stanley family, but no ruins have been preserved. Ensham, or Eynsham
Cross, stands in the market-place of the village, opposite the church.
The bridge, as we now see it, was built about sixty years ago. The
village is pleasantly situated on rising ground.
A little below the bridge the picturesque materials of the weir are
stored when not in use, and the rymers are piled in a stack close to
the spot where they sometimes even now do effective service. Your boat
passes through, however, generally without let or hindrance. A little
farther on the Evenlode enters the Thames. Like its predecessors, it
seems a poor insignificant stream as it delivers its waters through a
reedy mouth to the Thames; but it has itself received the River Glyme,
which passes through Woodstock and Blenheim Park, and feeds the large
lake, now choked with weeds. The Evenlode is the last of the Cotswold
offerings thus embodied in verse by Drayton:--
"Clear Colne and lively Leech have down from Cotswold's plain,
At Lechlade linking hands, come likewise to support
The mother of great Thames. When, seeing the resort,
From Cotswold Windrush scrowers; and with herself doth cast
The train to overtake; and therefore hies her fast
Through the Oxfordian fields; when (as the last of all
Those floods that into Thames out of our Cotswold fall,
And farthest unto the north) bright Elnlode forth doth beare."
Woodstock is not more than four miles from Eynsham, but it is generally
reached from Oxford. The river winds now round the foot of Witham
Hill, and we are on close terms with the outskirts of the immense wood
through which one could walk for eight miles before losing its shade.
The portion that comes to within a few yards of the Thames consists
of oak-trees, with an occasional ash, and as we halt to sit a while
under the umbrageous canopy we receive as a salute the cooing of doves,
agreeable contrast to the reception, a few miles higher up, conveyed
in the harsh squawk of a couple of herons. Longfellow might have sat
amongst these identical brackens when he wrote:--
"But when sultry suns are high,
Underneath the oak I lie,
As it shades the water's edge,
And I mark my line, away
In the wheeling eddy play,
Tangling with the river sedge."
The Thames describes a sharp horseshoe curve round the base of the
hill. From the bank a fine view across the flat is obtained of
Cassington Church spire, and of the last mill on the River Evenlode,
making for the Thames midway between the bridge and Hagley Pool. The
paucity of pleasure-boats on the river between Lechlade and Bablock
Hythe may be attributed to the great weediness of the river, rendering
it sometimes almost impassable; also to the prevalence of shallows,
and the absence of anything particular to see, and the all-important
consideration that there are few hotels to stop at. There is not a
riverside house of call between the little cottage inn at Bablock Hythe
and Godstow. An occasional steam-launch finds its way from Oxford up
the Canal and into the Thames, by way of the Wolvercott Paper Mill; but
this unpleasant type of vessel is very rarely seen so far up, since the
forests of aquatic undergrowth are the reverse of favourable for the
working of the screw.
[Illustration: OXFORD, FROM GODSTOW.]
What the steam-launcher, however, loses is gained by the angler. This
mild sportsman I found to be very much in evidence below Bablock Hythe.
Here at any rate he was able to pursue his pastime in peace; and the
frequency with which he appeared on the bank from Eynsham downwards
gives me an opportunity of interjecting a few timely remarks upon the
Thames as a resort of fishermen. The professional fisherman, as we know
him at Richmond, Maidenhead, or Marlow, with his punt, Windsor chair,
and ground-bait, is unknown in the upper reaches of the river; but the
fish are there. Although anglers have multiplied a hundredfold within
the last half-century, the angling in the River Thames at the present
moment is better than it has been at any time during the present
generation. It is not to be hoped, with any reasonable confidence,
that the efforts now being made by the Thames Angling Preservation
Society to convert the Thames once more into a salmon river will be
successful; and any one who makes personal acquaintance with the source
of the Thames, and marks the character of the contributory streams,
will be prudent in entertaining a doubt as to whether there are now
breeding-grounds suitable, even if fish could be induced once more to
run up through the filth of the Pool from the sea. The alleged scarcity
of Thames trout is very often put down to the excessive disturbance
caused by steam-launches, and the traffic by pleasure-boats upon all
the reaches of the Thames, from Teddington Lock to Oxford. It is
somewhat strange, therefore, that the higher you ascend the Thames
the fewer become the Thames trout. There are a few large fish in most
of the deep wide pieces that were once weir-pools, or that still may
be so, between Lechlade and Oxford; but the water is too sluggish to
encourage them much, and trout, with the exception of truants from
Lech, Coin, or Windrush, are, therefore, few and far between. Pike, on
the other hand, are more numerous, if not of so large an average size
as those caught lower down. The Thames, from the start, abounds in
chub, bleak, barbel, gudgeon, roach, dace, and perch; bream, carp, and
tench are partial in their haunts. But the river above Oxford is not so
accessible as the great body of modern anglers would require, and hence
it comes to pass that these remote waters are little visited except by
the local disciples of Isaac Walton. The weeds are, after a fashion,
annually cut by the Thames Conservancy where their growth would be a
serious hindrance, but otherwise they are not kept down, save by the
uncertain operations of winter frosts and floods. The right of fishing
is generally, above Oxford, claimed by the riparian proprietors, or
their tenants.
[Illustration: THE THAMES FROM LECHLADE TO OXFORD.]
Soon after putting Bablock Hythe in our wake, the flat country, varied
by only occasional uplands, which had been the rule since leaving
Lechlade, is exchanged for a bolder type of scenery, as, for example,
the fine wooded eminence rising before us. This is Witham, of which we
shall see a good deal, now from one point, and now from another, as
we near the City of Learning. It requires no guide or guide-book to
inform us that from the summit a widespread view is obtained of the
valley of the Thames. Hitherto we have looked in vain for the typical
eyot. With the exception of one small islet below Hart's Number Two, or
Langley Weir, there has been nothing in the shape of an island until
we arrive at Hagley Pool, where the first solitary island appears. The
picture from here is exceptionally interesting. A rustic bridge spans a
backwater trending towards Witham Mill, and in the direction of Oxford.
The thickset woods stand out in prominent relief, and another farmhouse
of the higher class, surrounded by ricks, appears to the left. Hagley
Pool, which is merely a lake-like widening of the water at the bend,
is covered with the yellow water-lilies. Three miles from Eynsham we
are at Godstow Bridge. The spire of Cassington Church, a conspicuous
landmark on the left hand throughout, is a pleasanter object by far
than the tall chimneys on the right, which are not redeemed by the
rows of poplars that would fain hide them. It is unfortunate, but
true, that the first glimpses we get of the spires of Oxford are in
conjunction with the tall red-brick chimney and not elegant University
paper-mills. While following the bend at the broad part of the river
the public buildings of beautiful Oxford open one by one into view,
but again disappear temporarily at the next bend, at the head of which
stands King's Weir. This serves as much the purposes of a lock as a
weir, its gates opening when necessary to admit the passage of larger
craft than those which can be conveyed over the rollers supplied for
pleasure-boats. The river from the pool for some distance is almost
choked with weeds, very narrow, and of hardly sufficient depth at low
water to admit the passage of an ordinary pleasure-boat.
Godstow at once suggests the story, often told and always interesting,
of fair Rosamond. The lady gives a flavour also to Woodstock, some
eight miles distant. The wrongs and the rights of Mistress Rosamond
will never in this world be accurately known, but that she was poisoned
by jealous Queen Eleanor at Woodstock, and that she was the mistress
of Queen Eleanor's husband, Henry II., are facts which no one dare
deny. According to Lord Lyttleton, Henry II. met the frail daughter of
Walter, Lord Clifford at Godstow, in 1149, on his return from Carlisle,
the lady being at the time, in accordance with the custom of the age,
placed amongst the nuns to be educated. The nunnery is still known
by the ivy-clad walls which remain on its site. It was a nunnery of
the Benedictines, consecrated in the presence of King Stephen and his
Queen in the year 1138. The nunnery was dispossessed, and has crumbled
to ruins, but the brave river passes by even as in the olden times
before Henry VIII., the spoiler, gave the house to his physician, Dr.
George Owen. There was another nunnery at the foot of Witham Hill, but
that was an older establishment, which existed as early as 690, on the
spot where the Earls of Abingdon have their seat, partly built, it is
understood, by the stones of Godstow, even as the modern buildings at
Stanton Harcourt are supposed to have been erected from the stones
with which the original mansion was constructed. The ruins of Godstow
Nunnery, such as they are, catch one's eye first from the river. It may
be that the pathetic romance touching the silken thread and the bowl
of poison is not, as many hold, founded upon fact; but we cannot be
equally sceptical with regard to Rosamond's connection with Godstow.
She retired to the nunnery to pass the remainder of her days, after the
marriage of the king, in seclusion. She died, and was buried in the
choir, opposite the high altar, and Henry raised a grand monument to
her memory. The nuns forgot the frailty of the lady, remembering rather
the manner in which she had enriched the establishment, and the tokens
of favour they had received from the king on her account; and we read
that her remains were treated with much honour by the sisters, who hung
a pall of silk over her tomb, and set it about with lighted tapers.
This chronic honour was put an end to by Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln,
who, going to the nunnery and requesting to know why one particular
tomb should be so much honoured, was informed that it was the tomb of
Rosamond, sometime leman to Henry II. In order that the nuns might not
be led astray by having her example constantly set before them, and
that other women might beware, poor Rosamond's bones were cast out of
the church; but they were brought back again by the nuns, and wrapped
in perfumed leather.
The farther arch of the old bridge at Godstow has been removed to admit
of various improvements being carried out in one branch of the stream,
which here divides, and in order to widen the structure; but the two
arches of the ascent from the right-hand side remain as they were, and
the well-known "Trout" Inn at Godstow retains all its characteristics
of creepers, flowers, tiled roof, and pleasant waterside seats. A full
view of Oxford, set back beyond the farthest confines of Port Meadow
is obtained, while the smell of the roses in the pretty garden of
the time-honoured "Trout" Inn still lingers about us. The village of
Wolvercott lies to the left, and at the other end of the mill-stream,
the entrance to which was noticed just above the King's Weir. Close by
the ivy-covered gable of the nunnery a new weir is being erected, and
it may be added that in the excavations incidental to the work four old
stone coffins were discovered in the summer of 1885.
Passing by the village of Binsey, where in 730 there was a chapel
constructed with dark room for the most stubborn sort of sisters, and
where the saints caused St. Margaret's Well to be opened, in order that
people coming there to ease their burdened souls might be rid of their
diseases, one feels that the first stage of a voyage down the Thames
is pleasantly terminated by the noble array of pinnacles, towers, and
spires across Port Meadow, presented as a free common to the city by
William the Conqueror, and so to this day preserved. The towers and
spires have an imposing effect, with Shotover Hill behind. The most
prominent objects are St. Philip's and St. James's Church, the Roman
Catholic Church, the Observatory, the Radcliff, the Sheldonian, St.
Mary's, All Saints', Tom Tower and the Cathedral, and, nestling down
among the trees, the square grey tower of Oxford Castle. To the right
is the "Perch" Inn at Binsey, and as you pass this Binsey Common opens
out in the same direction, and there are once more the wooded slopes of
the Witham Hills, which we have had in view for the last eight miles.
The River Thames round Port Meadow is more disgracefully weedy and
neglected than any other portion of its course. Beyond Binsey is Medley
Manor House, at one time an oratory attached to Godstow, a place where
any of the devotees, in case they were detained from the city or on
their journey to Abingdon, could rest for the night, without going on
to the nunnery. The flocks of geese in hundreds, just now giving the
signal of rain, on the edge of Port Meadow, opposite Binsey Common,
may still lead us to think that we are in the rural parts described
on previous pages; but down yonder, on the other side of the cut
leading to Medley Weir, are a fleet of ugly house-boats. There is also
a semicircular iron bridge across the cut, and we are brought face
to face with the fact that the next mile and a half of river will be
essentially townified and crowded.
The division of the river at Medley leaves the business of practical
navigation to the straight cut, and the original Thames, once flowing
by the site of Bewley Abbey, will probably be soon choked out of
existence. In succession now follow in a prosy catalogue Medley Weir,
the Four Streams, the Railway, the Canal, Seven Bridges Road, and
Osney Loch and Mill. A hoary gateway and fragment of wall, with its
Perpendicular window absorbed in the mill fabric, are all that remain
of Osney Abbey, the powerful and magnificent, whose abbots were peers
of Parliament. One hastens under the railway bridge, and looks aside
from the gasworks, knowing that beyond Folly Bridge a new phase of
Thames life will begin for the intelligent voyager.
/W. Senior/.
[Illustration: THE BARGES.]