Zoo now I hope this kindly feaece
  Is gone to find a better pleaece;
  But still wi vo’k a-left behind
  He’ll always be a-kept in mind.

Thomas Hardy, the founder of Rochester Grammar School in 1569, was the ancestor of Admiral Hardy, Nelson’s flag-captain, who received the great hero in his arms when the fatal shot was fired at Trafalgar, and whose monument we could see on Blackdown Hill in the distance.  Not the least distinguished of this worthy family is Thomas Hardy, the brilliant author of the famous series of West-country novels, the first of which was published in 1872, the year after our visit.

Our next stage was Bridport, and we had been looking forward to seeing the sea for some time past, as we considered it would be an agreeable change from the scenery of the lonely downs.  We passed by Winterbourne Abbas on our way, and the stone circle known as the “Nine Stones.”  The name Winterbourne refers to one of those ancient springs common in chalk districts which burst out suddenly in great force, usually in winter after heavy autumn rains, run for a season, and then as suddenly disappear.

[Illustration:  BRIDPORT.]

Bridport was an important place even in the time of Edward the Confessor, when it contained 120 houses and a priory of monks.  It was the birthplace of Giles de Bridport, the third Bishop of Salisbury, whose fine tomb we had seen in that cathedral, and who died in 1262; of him Leland wrote, “he kivered the new Cathedral Church of Saresbyrie throughout with lead.”  In the time of the Plantagenet kings Bridport was noted for its sails and ropes, much of the cordage and canvas for the fleet fitted out to do battle with the Spanish Armada being made here.  Flax was then cultivated in the neighbourhood, and the rope-walks, where the ropes were made, were in the streets, which accounted for some of the streets being so much wider than others.  Afterwards the goods were made in factories, the flax being imported from Rusfia.

We did not quite reach the sea that night, as it was a mile or two farther on; but we put up at the “Bull Hotel,” and soon discovered we had arrived at a town where nearly all the men for ages had been destined for the army or navy, and consequently had travelled to all parts of the world—­strong rivals to the Scots for the honour of being found sitting on the top of the North Pole if ever that were discovered.

King Charles II was nearly trapped here when he rode into the town in company with a few others and put up at the “George Inn.”  The yard of the inn was full of soldiers, but he passed unnoticed, as they were preparing for an expedition to the Channel Islands.  Charles received a private message that he was not safe, and that he was being pursued, and he and his friends hastily departed along the Dorchester road.  Fortunately Lord Wilton came up, and advised them to turn down a small lane leading to Broadwindsor, where Charles was immediately secreted; it was lucky for him, as the pursuing party passed along the Dorchester road immediately afterwards, and he would certainly have been taken prisoner if he had gone there.  A large stone was afterwards placed at the corner of Lea Lane, where he turned off the high road, and still remained there to commemorate that event, which happened on September 23rd, 1651.