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British Highways And Byways From A Motor Car

<h2>II</h2> <h3>IN AND ABOUT LONDON</h3> London occurs to the average tourist as the center from which his travels in the Kingdom will radiate, and this idea, from many points of view, is logically correct. Around the city cluster innumerable literary and historic associations, and the points of special interest lying within easy reach will outnumber those in any section of similar extent in the entire country. If one purposes to make the tour by rail, London is pre-eminently the center from which to start and to which one will return at various times in his travels. All the principal railways lead to the metropolis. The number of trains arriving and departing each day greatly exceeds that of any other city in the world, and the longest through journey in the island may be compassed between sunrise and sunset. The motorist, however, finds a different problem confronting him in making London his center. I had in mind the plan of visiting the famous places of the city and immediate suburbs with the aid of my car, but it was speedily abandoned when I found myself confronted by the actual conditions. One attempt at carrying out this plan settled the matterPg 12 for me. The trip which I undertook would probably be one of the first to occur to almost anybody—the drive to Hampton Court Palace, about twelve or fifteen miles from the central part of the city. It looked easy to start about two or three o'clock, spend a couple of hours at Hampton Court and get back to our hotel by six. After trying out my car—which had reached London some time ahead of me—a few times in localities where traffic was not the heaviest, I essayed the trip without any further knowledge of the streets than I had gained from the maps. I was accompanied by a nervous friend from Iowa who confessed that he had been in an automobile but once before. He had ridden with a relative through a retired section of his native state, traversed for the first time by an automobile, and he had quit trying to remember how many run-aways and smash-ups were caused by the fractious horses they met on the short journey. Visions of damage suits haunted him for months thereafter. In our meanderings through the London streets, the fears for the other fellow which had harassed him during his former experience, were speedily transferred to himself. To his excited imagination, we time and again escaped complete wreck and annihilation by a mere hair's breadth. The route which we had taken, I learned afterwards, was one of the worst for motoring in all London. The streets werePg 13 narrow and crooked and were packed with traffic of all kinds. Tram cars often ran along the middle of the street, with barely room for a vehicle to pass on either side. The huge motor busses came tearing towards us in a manner most trying to novices, and it seemed, time after time, that the dexterity of the drivers of these big machines was all that saved our car from being wrecked. We obtained only the merest glimpse of Hampton Palace, and the time which we had consumed made it apparent that if we expected to reach our hotel that night, we must immediately retrace our way through the wild confusion we had just passed. It began to rain, and added to the numerous other dangers that seemed to confront us was that of "skidding" on the slippery streets. When we finally reached our garage, I found that in covering less than twenty-five miles, we had consumed about four hours and we had been moving all the time. The nervous strain was a severe one and I forthwith abandoned any plan that I had of attempting to do London by motor car. With more knowledge and experience I would have done better, but a local motorist, thoroughly acquainted with London, told me that he wouldn't care to undertake the Hampton Court trip by the route which we had traveled. On Saturday afternoons and Sundays, the motorist may practically have freedom of the city. HePg 14 will find the streets deserted everywhere. The heavy traffic has all ceased and the number of cabs and motor busses is only a fraction of what it would be on business days. He will meet comparatively few motors in the city on Sunday, even though the day be fine, such as would throng the streets of Chicago or New York with cars. The Englishman who goes for a drive is attracted from the city by the many fine roads which lead in every direction to pleasure resorts. One of the most popular runs with Londoners is the fifty miles to Brighton, directly southward, and the number of motors passing over this highway on fine Sundays is astonishing. I noted a report in the papers that on a certain Sunday afternoon no less than two hundred cars passed a police trap, and of these, thirty-five were summoned before the magistrates for breaking the speed limit. To the average American, this run to Brighton would not be at all attractive compared with many other roads leading out of London, on which one would scarcely meet a motor car during the day and would be in no danger from the machinations of the police. Of course the places frequented by tourists are often closed on Sunday—or at least partially so, as in the case of Windsor Castle, where one is admitted to the grounds and court, but the state apartments, etc., are not shown. Even the churches are closed to Sunday visitors exPg 15cept during the regular services. Within a radius of thirty miles of London, and outside its immediate boundaries, there are numerous places well worth a visit, most of them open either daily or at stated times. A few of such places are Harrow on the Hill, with its famous school; Keston, with Holwood House, the home of William Pitt; Chigwell, the scene of Dickens' "Barnaby Rudge;" Waltham Abbey Church, founded in 1060; the home of Charles Darwin at Downe; Epping Forest; Hampton Court; Rye House at Broxborne; Hatfield House, the estate of the Marquis of Salisbury; Runnymede, where the Magna Charta was signed; St. Albans, with its ancient cathedral church; Stoke Poges Church of Gray's "Elegy" fame; Windsor Castle; Knole House, with its magnificent galleries and furniture; Penshurst Place, the home of the Sidneys; John Milton's cottage at Chalfont St. Giles; the ancient town of Guildford in Surrey; Gad's Hill, Dickens' home, near Rochester; the vicarage where Thackeray's grandfather lived and the old church where he preached at Monken Hadley; and Whitchurch, with Handel's original organ, is also near the last-named village. These are only a few of the places that no one should miss. The motor car affords an unequalled means of reaching these and other points in this vicinity; since many are at some distancePg 16 from railway stations, to go by train would consume more time than the average tourist has at his disposal. While we visited all the places which I have just mentioned and many others close to London, we made only three or four short trips out of the city returning the same or the following day. We managed to reach the majority of such points by going and returning over different highways on our longer tours. In this way we avoided the difficulty we should have experienced in making many daily trips from London, since a large part of each day would have been consumed merely in getting in and out of the city. <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/03.jpg" alt="HARVESTING IN HERTFORDSHIRE." title="HARVESTING IN HERTFORDSHIRE." /> HARVESTING IN HERTFORDSHIRE. From Painting by Alfred Elias. Exhibited in 1906 Royal Academy.</div> Our first trip into the country was made on the Sunday after our arrival. Although we started out at random, our route proved a fortunate one, and gave us every reason to believe that our tour of the Kingdom would be all we had anticipated. During the summer we had occasion to travel three times over this same route, and we are still of the opinion that there are few more delightful bits of road in England. We left London by the main highway, running for several miles through Epping Forest, which is really a great suburban park. It was a good day for cyclists, for the main road to the town of Epping was crowded with thousands of them. So great was the number and so completely did they occupy the highway, that it was necPg 17essary to drive slowly and with the greatest care. Even then, we narrowly avoided a serious accident. One of the cyclists, evidently to show his dexterity, undertook to cut around us by running across the tramway tracks. These were wet and slippery, and the wheel shot from under the rider, pitching him headlong to the ground not two feet in front of our car, which was then going at a pretty good rate. If the cyclist did not exhibit skill in managing his wheel, he certainly gave a wonderful display of agility in getting out of our way. He did not seem to touch the ground at all, and by turning two or three handsprings, he avoided being run over by the narrowest margin. His wheel was considerably damaged and his impedimenta scattered over the road. It was with rather a crestfallen air that he gathered up his belongings, and we went on, shuddering to think how close we had come to a serious accident at the very beginning of our pilgrimage. A policeman witnessed the accident, but he clearly placed the blame on the careless wheelman. Passing through the forest, we came to Epping, and from there into a stretch of open country that gave little suggestion of proximity to the world's metropolis. Several miles through a narrow but beautifully kept byway brought us to the village of Chipping-Ongar, a place of considerable antiquity, and judging from the extensive site of its ancientPg 18 castle, at one time of some military importance. At Ongar we began our return trip to London over the road which we agreed was the most beautiful leading out of the city, for the suburbs do not extend far in this direction and one is comparatively soon in the country. The perfectly surfaced road, with only gentle slopes and curves, runs through the parklike fields, here over a picturesque stone bridge spanning a clear stream, there between rows of magnificent trees, occasionally dropping into quiet villages, of which Chigwell was easily the most delightful. Chigwell became known to fame through the writings of Charles Dickens, who was greatly enamored of the place and who made it the scene of much of his story of "Barnaby Rudge." But Dickens, with his eye for the beautiful and with his marvelous intuition for interesting situations, was drawn to the village by its unusual charm. Few other places can boast of such endorsement as he gave in a letter to his friend, Forster, when he wrote: "Chigwell, my dear fellow, is the greatest place in the world. Name your day for going. Such a delicious old inn facing the church; such a lovely ride; such glorious scenery; such an out-of-the-way rural place; such a sexton! I say again, name your day." After such a recommendation, one will surely desire to visit the place, and it is pleasant to know that thePg 19 "delicious old inn" is still standing and that the village is as rural and pretty as when Dickens wrote over sixty years since. The inn referred to, the King's Head, was the prototype of the Maypole in "Barnaby Rudge," and here we were delighted to stop for our belated luncheon. The inn fronts directly on the street and, like all English hostelries, its main rooms are given over to the bar, which at this time was crowded with Sunday loafers, the atmosphere reeking with tobacco smoke and the odor of liquors. The garden at the rear was bright with a profusion of spring flowers and sheltered with ornamental trees and vines. The garden side of the old house was covered with a mantle of ivy, and, altogether, the surroundings were such as to make ample amends for the rather unprepossessing conditions within. One will not fully appreciate Chigwell and its inn unless he has read Dickens' story. You may still see the panelled room upstairs where Mr. Chester met Geoffry Haredale. This room has a splendid mantel-piece, great carved open beams and beautiful leaded windows. The bar-room, no doubt, is still much the same as on the stormy night which Dickens chose for the opening of his story. Just across the road from the inn is the church which also figures in the tale, and a dark avenue of ancient yew trees leads from the gateway to the door. One can easPg 20ily imagine the situation which Dickens describes when the old sexton crossed the street and rang the church bells on the night of the murder at Haredale Hall. Aside from Dickens' connection with Chigwell, the village has a place of peculiar interest to Americans in the old grammar school where William Penn received his early education. The building still stands, with but little alteration, much as it was in the day when the great Quaker sat at the rude desks and conned the lessons of the old-time English schoolboy. When we invited friends whom we met in London to accompany us on a Sunday afternoon trip, we could think of no road more likely to please them than the one I have just been trying to describe. We reversed our journey this time, going out of London on the way to Chigwell. Returning, we left the Epping road shortly after passing through that town, and followed a narrow, forest-bordered byway with a few steep hills until we came to Waltham Abbey, a small Essex market town with an important history. The stately abbey church, a portion of which is still standing and now used for services, was founded by the Saxon king, Harold, in 1060. Six years later he was defeated and slain at Hastings by William the Conqueror, and tradition has it that his mother buried his body a shortPg 21 distance to the east of Waltham Church. The abbey gate still stands as a massive archway at one end of the river bridge. Near the town is one of the many crosses erected by Edward I in memory of his wife, Eleanor of Castile, wherever her body rested on the way from Lincoln to Westminster. A little to the left of this cross, now a gateway to Theobald Park, stands Temple Bar, stone for stone intact as it was in the days when traitors' heads were raised above it in Fleet Street, although the original wooden gates are missing. Waltham Abbey is situated on the River Lea, near the point where King Alfred defeated the Danes in one of his battles. They had penetrated far up the river when King Alfred diverted the waters from beneath their vessels and left them stranded in a wilderness of marsh and forest. Another pleasant afternoon trip was to Monken Hadley, twenty-five miles out on the Great North Road. Hadley Church is intimately associated with a number of distinguished literary men, among them Thackeray, whose grandfather preached there and is buried in the churchyard. The sexton was soon found and he was delighted to point out the interesting objects in the church and vicinity. The church stands at the entrance of a royal park, which is leased to private parties and is one of the quaintest and most picturesque of the countryPg 22 churches we had seen. Over the doors, some old-fashioned figures which we had to have translated indicated that the building had been erected in 1494. It has a huge ivy-covered tower and its interior gives every evidence of the age-lasting solidity of the English churches. Hadley Church has a duplicate in the United States, one having been built in some New York town precisely like the older structure. We noticed that one of the stained-glass windows had been replaced by a modern one, and were informed that the original had been presented to the newer church in America—a courtesy that an American congregation would hardly think of, and be still less likely to carry out. An odd silver communion service which had been in use from three to five hundred years was carefully taken out of a fire-proof safe and shown us. Hadley Church is a delight from every point of view, and it is a pity that such lines of architecture are not oftener followed in America. Our churches as a rule are shoddy and inharmonious affairs compared with those in England. It is not always the matter of cost that makes them so, since more artistic structures along the pleasing and substantial lines of architecture followed in Britain would in many cases cost no more than we pay for such churches as we now have. <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/04.jpg" alt="HADLEY CHURCH, MONKEN HADLEY." title="HADLEY CHURCH, MONKEN HADLEY." /> HADLEY CHURCH, MONKEN HADLEY.</div> Pg 23 Our friend the sexton garrulously assured us that Thackeray had spent much of his time as a youth at the vicarage and insisted that a great part of "Vanity Fair" was written there. He even pointed out the room in which he alleged the famous book was produced, and assured us that the great author had found the originals of many of his characters, such as Becky Sharp and Col. Newcome, among the villagers of Hadley. All of which we took for what it was worth. Thackeray himself told his friend, Jas. T. Fields, that "Vanity Fair" was written in his London house; still, he may have been a visitor at the Hadley vicarage and might have found pleasure in writing in the snug little room whose windows open on the flower garden, rich with dashes of color that contrasted effectively with the dark green foliage of the hedges and trees. The house still does duty as a vicarage; the small casement windows peep out of the ivy that nearly envelops it, and an air of coziness and quiet seems to surround it. Near at hand is the home where Anthony Trollope, the novelist, lived for many years, and his sister is buried in the churchyard. A short distance from Hadley is the village of Edgeware, with Whitchurch, famous for its association with the musician Handel. He was organist here for several years, and on the small pipe-organ, still in the church though not in use, composed hisPg 24 oratorio, "Esther," and a less important work, "The Harmonious Blacksmith." The idea of the latter came from an odd character, the village blacksmith, who lived in Edgeware in Handel's day and who acquired some fame as a musician. His tombstone in the churchyard consists of an anvil and hammer, wrought in stone. Afterwards Handel became more widely known, and was called from Whitchurch for larger fields of work. He is buried in Westminster Abbey. The road from Edgeware to the city is a good one, and being Saturday afternoon, it was nearly deserted. Saturday in London is quite as much of a holiday as Sunday, little business being transacted, especially in the afternoon. This custom prevails to a large extent all over the Kingdom, and rarely is any attempt made to do business on Saturday. The Week-End holiday, as it is called, is greatly prized, and is recognized by the railroads in granting excursions at greatly reduced rates. There is always a heavy exodus of people from the city to the surrounding resorts during the summer and autumn months on Saturday afternoon and Sunday. Owing to the extreme difficulty of getting about the city, we made but few short excursions from London such as I have described. If one desires to visit such places in sequence, without going farther into the country, it would be best to stop for thePg 25 night at the hotels in the better suburban towns, without attempting to return to London each day. The garage accomodations in London I found very good and the charges generally lower than in the United States. There is a decided tendency at grafting on the part of the employes, and if it is ascertained that a patron is a tourist—especially an American—he is quoted a higher rate at some establishments and various exactions are attempted. At the first garage where I applied, a quotation made was withdrawn when it was learned that I was an American. The man said he would have to discuss the matter with his partner before making a final rate. I let him carry on his discussion indefinitely, for I went on my way and found another place where I secured accommodations at a very reasonable rate without giving information of any kind. With the miserable business methods in vogue at some of the garages, it seemed strange to me if any of the money paid to employes ever went to the business office at all. There was no system and little check on sales of supplies, and I heard a foreman of a large establishment declare that he had lost two guineas which a patron had paid him. "I can't afford to lose it," he said, "and it will have to come back indirectly if I can't get it directly." In no case should a motorist pay a bill at a London garage without a proper receipt. <hr style="width: 65%;" />Pg 26 <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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