British Highways And Byways From A Motor Car | Page 2

IN HERTFORDSHIRE 16 THE THREE SPIRES OF LICHFIELD 48
SUNSET ON THE MOOR 56 A COTTAGE IN HOLDENHURST,
HAMPSHIRE 86 ROCKS OFF CORNWALL 96 NEAR LAND'S
END 100 ON DARTMOOR 104 IN GLOUCESTERSHIRE 112
ENTRANCE TO LOCH TYNE 144 THE PATH BY THE LOCH 150
IN THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS 160 A SURREY LANDSCAPE

272 A BIT OF OLD ENGLAND 300 THE CALEDONIAN COAST
308
DUOGRAVURES
HADLEY CHURCH, MONKEN HADLEY 22 DICKENS' HOME,
GAD'S HILL, NEAR ROCHESTER 30 CATHEDRAL,
CANTERBURY 33 RUINS OF URICONIUM, NEAR
SHREWSBURY 64 STOKESAY MANOR HOUSE, NEAR
LUDLOW 66 THE FEATHERS HOTEL, LUDLOW 68 LUDLOW
CASTLE, THE KEEP AND ENTRANCE 72 A GLADE IN NEW
FOREST 88 ST. JOSEPH'S CHAPEL, GLASTONBURY ABBEY 108
DISTANT VIEW OF ROSS, SOUTH WELSH BORDER 114 RUINS
OF RAGLAN CASTLE, SOUTH WALES 120 KILCHURN CASTLE,
LOCH AWE 152 TOWERS OF ELGIN CATHEDRAL, NORTH
SCOTLAND 162 DUNNOTTAR CASTLE, STONEHAVEN, NEAR
ABERDEEN 164 TOWN HOUSE, DUNBAR, SCOTLAND 180
BAMBOROUGH CASTLE, NORTHUMBERLAND 184 OLD
COTTAGE AT COCKINGTON 200 SOMERSBY RECTORY,
BIRTHPLACE OF TENNYSON 210 SOMERSBY CHURCH 212 ST.
BOTOLPH'S CHURCH FROM THE RIVER, BOSTON 216 A
TYPICAL BYWAY 224 JOHN WYCLIF'S CHURCH,
LUTTERWORTH 232 BYRON'S ELM IN CHURCHYARD,
HARROW 246 MILTON'S ROOM IN COTTAGE AT CHALFONT
ST. GILES 250 DISTANT VIEW OF MAGDALEN TOWER,
OXFORD 256 RINGWOOD CHURCH 260 WINDMILL NEAR
ARUNDEL, SUSSEX 274 ARUNDEL CASTLE 276 PEVENSEY
CASTLE, WHERE THE NORMANS LANDED 280 WINCHELSEA
CHURCH AND ELM TREE 282 ENTRANCE FRONT BODIAM
CASTLE, SUSSEX 286 PENSHURST PLACE, HOME OF THE
SIDNEYS 292
MAPS
MAP OF ENGLAND AND WALES 310 MAP OF SCOTLAND 318
[Illustration: OLD COTTAGE AT NORTON, NEAR EVESHAM.

From Water Color by G.F. Nicholls.]

British Highways and Byways From a Motor Car

I
A FEW GENERALITIES
Stratford-on-Avon stands first on the itinerary of nearly every
American who proposes to visit the historic shrines of Old England. Its
associations with Britain's immortal bard and with our own gentle
Geoffrey Crayon are not unfamiliar to the veriest layman, and no fewer
than thirty thousand pilgrims, largely from America, visit the delightful
old town each year. And who ever came away disappointed? Who, if
impervious to the charm of the place, ever dared to own it?
My first visit to Stratford-on-Avon was in the regulation fashion.
Imprisoned in a dusty and comfortless first-class apartment--first-class
is an irony in England when applied to railroad travel, a mere excuse
for charging double--we shot around the curves, the glorious
Warwickshire landscapes fleeting past in a haze or obscured at times by
the drifting smoke. Our reveries were rudely interrupted by the shriek
of the English locomotive--like an exaggerated toy whistle--and, with a
mere glimpse of town and river, we were brought sharply up to the
unattractive station of Stratford-on-Avon. We were hustled by an
officious porter into an omnibus, which rattled through the streets until
we landed at the Sign of the Red Horse; and the manner of our
departure was even the same.
Just two years later, after an exhilarating drive of two or three hours
over the broad, well-kept highway winding through the parklike fields,
fresh from May showers, between Worcester and Stratford, our motor
finally climbed a long hill, and there, stretched out before us, lay the
valley of the Avon. Far away we caught the gleam of the immortal river,
and rising from a group of splendid trees we beheld Trinity

Church--almost unique in England for its graceful combination of
massive tower and slender spire--the literary shrine of the
English-speaking world, the enchanted spot where Shakespeare sleeps.
About it were clustered the clean, tiled roofs of the charming town, set
like a gem in the Warwickshire landscape, famous as the most beautiful
section of Old England. Our car slowed to a stop, and only the subdued
hum of the motor broke the stillness as we saw Stratford-on-Avon from
afar, conscious of a beauty and sentiment that made our former visit
seem commonplace indeed.
But I am not going to write of Stratford-on-Avon. Thousands have
done this before me--some of them of immortal fame. I shall not
attempt to describe or give details concerning a town that is probably
visited each year by more people than any other place of the size in the
world. I am simply striving in a few words to give the different
impressions made upon the same party who visited the town twice in a
comparatively short period, the first time by railway train and the last
by motor car. If I have anything to say of Stratford, it will come in due
sequence in my story.
There are three ways in which a tourist may obtain a good idea of
Britain during a summer's vacation of three or four months. He may
cover most places of interest after the old manner, by railway train.
This will have to be supplemented