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British Highways And Byways From A Motor Car

<h2>XV</h2> <h3>THE CROMWELL COUNTRY. COLCHESTER.</h3> A distinguished observer, Prof. Goldwin Smith, expressed it forcibly when he said that the epitaph of nearly every ruined castle in Britain might be written, "Destroyed by Cromwell." It takes a tour such as ours to gain something of a correct conception of the gigantic figure of Oliver Cromwell in English history. The magnitude and the far-reaching results of his work are coming to be more and more appreciated by the English people. For a time he was considered a traitor and regicide, but with increasing enlightenment and toleration, his real work for human liberty is being recognized by the great majority of his countrymen. It was only as far back as 1890 that Parliament voted down a proposition to place a statue of Cromwell on the grounds of the House of Commons; but two years later sentiment had advanced so much that justice was done to the memory of the great Protector and a colossal bronze figure was authorized and erected. I know of no more impressive sight in all England than this great statue, standing in solitary grandeur near the Houses of Parliament, representing CromPg 236well with sword and bible, and with an enormous lion crouching at his feet. It divides honor with no other monument in its vicinity and it seems to stand as a warning to kingcraft that it must observe well defined limitations if it continues in Britain. I saw several other statues of Cromwell, notably at Manchester, Warrington and at St. Ives. An incident illustrating the sentiment with which the Protector is now regarded by the common people came under my own observation. With a number of other sightseers, we were visiting Warwick Castle and were being shown some of the portraits and relics relating to Cromwell, when the question was raised by someone in the party as to his position in English history. A young fellow, apparently an aspirant for church honors, expressed the opinion that Cromwell was a traitor and the murderer of his king. He was promptly taken to task by the old soldier who was acting as our guide through the castle. He said, "Sir, I can not agree with you. I think we are all better off today that there was such a man as Cromwell." That appears to be the general sentiment of the people of Great Britain, and the feeling is rapidly growing that he was distinctly the defender of the people's rights. True, he destroyed many of the historic castles, but such destruction was a military necessity. These fortresses, almost without excepPg 237tion, were held by supporters of King Charles, who used them as bases of operation against the Parliamentary Army. If not destroyed when captured, they were re-occupied by the Royalists and the work had to be done over again. Therefore Cromwell wisely dismantled the strongholds when they came into his possession, and generally he did his work so well that restoration was not possible, even after the Royalists regained power. The few splendid examples which escaped his wrath—notably Warwick Castle—fortunately happened at the time to be in possession of adherents of Parliament. The damage Cromwell inflicted upon the churches was usually limited to destruction of stone images, tombs and altars, as savoring of idolatry. This spirit even extended to the destruction of priceless stained-glass windows, the loss of which we can not too greatly deplore, especially since the very art of making this beautiful glass seems to be a lost one. At Cambridge we were within easy reach of the scenes of the Protector's early life. He was born in 1599 at Huntingdon, sixteen miles distant, and was twenty years a citizen of St. Ives, only a few miles away. He was a student at Cambridge and for several years was a farmer near Ely, being a tenant on the cathedral lands. As Ely is only fifteen miles north of Cambridge, it occurred to us to attend services at the cathedral there on Sunday morning.Pg 238 We followed a splendid road leading through a beautiful country, rich with fields of grain almost ready for harvest. The cathedral is one of the largest and most remarkable in England, being altogether different in architecture from any other in the Kingdom. Instead of a spire, it has a huge, castellated, octagonal tower, and while it was several hundred years in building, a harmonious design was maintained throughout, although it exhibits in some degree almost every style of church architecture known in England. Ely is an inconsequential town of about seven thousand inhabitants and dominated from every point of view by the huge bulk of the cathedral. Only a portion of the space inside the vast building was occupied by seats, and though the great church would hold many thousands of people if filled to its capacity, the congregation was below the average that might be found in the leading churches of an American town the size of Ely. One of the cathedral officials with whom I had a short talk said that the congregations averaged small indeed and were growing smaller right along. The outlook for Ely he did not consider good, a movement being on foot to cut another diocese from the territory and to make a cathedral, probably of the great church, at Bury St. Edmunds. In recent years this policy of creating new dioceses has beenPg 239 in considerable vogue in England, and of course is distasteful to the sections immediately affected. The services in Ely Cathedral were simpler than usual and were through well before noon. Before returning to Cambridge we visited St. Ives and Huntingdon, both of which were closely associated with the life of Cromwell. The former is a place of considerable antiquity, although the present town may be said to date from 1689, at which time it was rebuilt after being totally destroyed by fire. One building escaped, a quaint stone structure erected in the center of the stone bridge crossing the River Ouse and supposed to have been used as a chapel by the early monks. Cromwell's connection with St. Ives began in 1628, after he had been elected to Parliament. He moved here after the dissolution of that body and spent several years as a farmer. The house which he occupied has disappeared and few relics remain of his residence in the town. In the market square is a bronze statue of the Protector, with an inscription to the effect that he was a citizen of St. Ives for several years. A few miles farther on is Huntingdon, his birthplace. It is a considerably larger town, but none of the buildings now standing has any connection with the life of the Protector. Doubtless the citizens of Huntingdon now recognize that the manor house where Cromwell was born, which wasPg 240 pulled down a hundred years ago, would be a valuable asset to the town were it still standing. From Huntingdon we returned to Cambridge, having completed a circular tour of about sixty miles. We still had plenty of time to drive about Cambridge and to view from the outside the colleges and other places of interest. The streets are laid out in an irregular manner, and although it is not a large city—only forty thousand—we had considerable difficulty in finding our way back to the hotel. The University Arms is situated on the edge of a large common called "The Field." Here in the evening were several open-air religious services. One of these was conducted by the Wesleyans, or Methodists, with a large crowd at the beginning, but a Salvation Army, with several band instruments, soon attracted the greater portion of the crowd. We found these open-air services held in many towns through England and Scotland. They were always conducted by "dissenting churches"—the Church of England would consider such a proceeding as too undignified. We wished to get an early start from Cambridge next morning, hoping to reach London that night, and accordingly made arrangements with the head waiter for an early breakfast. We told him we should probably want it at 7:30, and he looked at us in an incredulous manner. I repeated the hour,Pg 241 thinking he did not understand, but he said he thought at first we were surely joking. However, he would endeavor to accommodate us. If we would leave our order that evening he thought he could arrange it at the time desired, but we could easily see that it was going to upset the traditions of the staid hotel, for the breakfast hour is never earlier than nine o'clock. However, we had breakfast at 7:30 and found one other guest in the room—undoubtedly an American. He requested a newspaper and was informed that the morning papers were not received at the hotel until half past ten o'clock, although Cambridge is just fifty miles from London, or about an hour by train. The curiosity which the average American manifests to know what happened on the day previous is almost wanting in the staid and less excitable Britisher. We were away from Cambridge by nine o'clock and soon found ourselves in a country quite different in appearance from any we had yet passed through. Our route led through Essex to Colchester on the coast. We passed through several ancient towns, the first of them being Haverhill, which contributed a goodly number of the Pilgrim Fathers and gave its name to the town of Haverhill in Massachusetts. It is an old, straggling place that seems to be little in harmony with the progress of the Twentieth Century. Pg 242 Our route on leaving Haverhill led through narrow byways, which wind among the hills with turns so sharp that a close lookout had to be maintained. We paused at Heddingham, where there is a great church and a partly ruined Norman castle. The town is made up largely of cottages with thatched roofs, surrounded by the bright English flower gardens. It was typical of several other places which we passed on our way. I think that in no section of England did we find a greater number of picturesque churches than in Essex, and a collection of photographs of these, which was secured at Earl's Colne, we prize very highly. Colchester is an interesting town, deserving of much longer time than we were able to stay. It derived its name from King Cole, the "merry old soul" of the familiar nursery rhyme. It is one of the oldest towns in England and was of great importance in Roman times. One of the largest collections of Roman relics in Britain is to be found in the museum of the castle. There are hundreds of specimens of coin, pottery, jewelry, statuary, etc., all of which were found in excavations within the city. The castle is one of the gloomiest and rudest in the Kingdom, and was largely built of Roman bricks. It is quadrangular in shape, with high walls from twenty to thirty feet thick surrounding a small court. About a hundred years ago it was sold to a conPg 243tractor who planned to tear it down for the material, but after half completing his task he gave it up, leaving enough of the old fortress to give a good idea of what it was like. The grim old ruin has many dark traditions of the times when "man's inhumanity to man" was the rule rather than the exception. Even the mild, nonresistant Quaker could not escape the bitterest persecution and in one of the dungeons of Colchester Castle young George Fox was immured and suffered death from neglect and starvation. This especially attracted our attention, since the story had been pathetically told by the speaker at the Sunday afternoon meeting which we attended at Jordans and which I refer to in the following chapter. While there is a certain feeling of melancholy that possesses one when he wanders through these mouldering ruins, yet he often can not help thinking that they deserved their fate. Colchester suffered terribly in Parliamentary wars and only surrendered to Cromwell after sustaining a seventy-six day siege, many traces of which may still be seen. There are two or three ancient churches dating from Saxon times which exhibit some remarkable specimens of Saxon architecture. Parts of Colchester appeared quite modern and up-to-date, the streets being beautifully kept, and there were many handsome residences. Altogether, there is a strangePg 244 combination of the very old and the modern in Colchester. We left this highway at Chelmsford to visit the Greenstead Church near Chipping-Ongar, about twenty-two miles from London. This is one of the most curious churches in all England. It is a diminutive building, half hidden amidst the profusion of foliage, and would hardly attract attention unless one had learned of its unique construction and remarkable history. It is said to be the only church in England which is built with wooden walls, these being made from the trunks of large oak trees split down the center and roughly sharpened at each end. They are raised from the ground by a low brick foundation, and inside the spaces between the trunks are covered with pieces of wood. The rough timber frame of the roof is fastened with wooden pins. The interior of the building is quite dark, there being no windows in the wooden walls, and the light comes in from a dormer window in the roof. This church was built in the year 1010 to mark the resting place of St. Edmund the Martyr, whose remains were being carried from Bury to London. The town of Ongar, near by, once had an extensive castle, of which little remains, and in the chancel of the church is the grave of Oliver Cromwell's favorite daughter. A house in High Street was forPg 245 some time the residence of David Livingstone, the great African explorer. From Chipping-Ongar we followed for the third time the delightful road leading to London, passing through the village of Chigwell, of which I have spoken at length elsewhere. On coming into London, we found the streets in a condition of chaos, owing to repairs in the pavement. The direct road was quite impassable and we were compelled to get into the city through by-streets—not an easy task. In London the streets do not run parallel as in many of our American cities. No end of inquiry was necessary to get over the ten miles after we were in the city before we reached our hotel. It was not very convenient to make inquiries, either, when driving in streets crowded to the limit where our car could not halt for an instant without stopping the entire procession. We would often get into a pocket behind a slow-moving truck or street car and be compelled to crawl along for several blocks at the slowest speed. It was just sunset when we stopped in front of the Hotel Russell. We had been absent on our tour six weeks to a day and our odometer registered exactly 3070 miles. As there were five or six days of the time that we did not travel, we had averaged about six hundred miles a week during the tour. The weather had been unusually fine for England;Pg 246 we had perhaps half a dozen rainy days, but only once did it rain heavily. We had now traveled a total of 4100 miles and had visited the main points of interest in the Kingdom excepting those in the country south of the city, where we planned a short tour before sailing. We remained in London a week before starting on this trip, but during that time I did not take the car out of the garage. I had come to the conclusion that outside of Sundays and holidays the nervous strain of attempting to drive an automobile in the streets of London was such as to make the effort not worth while. <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/36.jpg" alt="BYRON'S ELM IN CHURCH YARD, HARROW." title="BYRON'S ELM IN CHURCH YARD, HARROW." /> BYRON'S ELM IN CHURCH YARD, HARROW.</div> <hr style="width: 65%;" />Pg 247 <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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