Part 12

The position of Lichfield Cathedral is peculiarly fine. Three sides of the square surrounding it are occupied by splendid ecclesiastical buildings connected with the diocese, including the bishop's palace. A beautiful sheet of water lies upon the lower side, so that nothing incongruous meets the eye.

We obtained there a better idea of the magnitude of the church establishment and its to us seemingly criminal waste of riches than ever before. To think of all this power for good wasting itself upon a beggarly account of empty benches, the choir outnumbering the congregation!

[Sidenote: _The Coach._]

We had ordered the coach to come and await us at the cathedral, but had not expected Perry to drive up to the very door. There the glittering equipage was, however, surrounded by groups of pretty, rosy children and many older people gazing respectfully. There is something about a well-appointed coach and four which is calculated to puff a man up with vanity. I remember I had been absorbed in the service, and afterward in wandering about the cathedral had had my thoughts carried back to India. I was again in the crowded streets of Benares mounted upon the richly caparisoned elephants of the Rajah, and anon strolling upon the Apollo Bunder in Bombay, one of a crowd the gorgeous coloring of which equals any scene ever given in grand opera. I reached the cathedral door in a kind of trance; the gay coach, the horses and their sparkling harness, and Joe and Perry in their livery burst upon me, and looking up and around I did feel that we were a "swell" party, and had ever so much to be thankful for. It is a source of never failing pleasure to stand and see the Charioteers mount the coach--they are all so happy, and I am "so glad they are glad." And so we mounted and drove off, taking a last fond look of grand old Lichfield.

* * * * *

DOVEDALE, July 2-3.

Our objective point was Dovedale, thirty miles distant. When three miles out we stopped at Elmhurst Hall for Miss F., who had preceded us to pay a visit to Mr. and Mrs. F--x, who very kindly invited the party to dismount and lunch with them; but the thirty miles to be done would not permit us the pleasure. The next time we pass, however, good master and mistress of Elmhurst Hall, you shall certainly have the Charioteers within your hospitable walls, if you desire it, for such an inviting place we have rarely seen.

[Sidenote: _Sudbury Park._]

We were to lunch in Sudbury Park, the residence of Lord Vernon. This was the first grassy luncheon of the five new-comers, and we were all delighted to see their enjoyment of this most Arcadian feature of our coaching life. It proved to be one of our pleasantest luncheons, for there is no finer spot in England than Sudbury Park. Of course it is not the glen nor the wimpling burn of the Highlands, but for quiet England it is superb.

The site chosen was near a pretty brook. Before us was the old-fashioned brick Queen Anne mansion, and behind us in the park was a cricket ground, where a match between two neighboring clubs was being worthily contested. The scene was indeed idyllic. There was never more fun and laughter at any of our luncheons. Aaleck had to be repressed at last, for several of the members united in a complaint against him. Their sides ached, but that they did not mind so much; their anxiety was about their cheeks, which were seriously threatened with an explosion if they attempted to eat. To avoid such results it was voted that no one should make a joke nor even a remark. Silence was enjoined; but what did that amount to! The signs and grimaces were worse than speech. Force was no remedy. It took time to get the party toned down, but eventually the lunch was finished.

We strolled over and watched the cricketers. It all depends upon how you look at a thing. So many able-bodied perspiring men knocking about a little ball on a warm summer's day, that is one way; so many men relieved from anxious care and laying the foundation for long years of robust health by invigorating exercise in the open air, that is the other view of the question. The ancients did not count against our little span of life the days spent in the chase; neither need we charge those spent in cricket; and as for our sport, coaching, for every day so spent we decided that it and another might safely be credited. He was a very wise prime minister who said he had often found important duties for which he had not time; one duty, however, he had always _made_ time for, his daily afternoon ride on horseback. Your always busy man accomplishes little; the great doer is he who has plenty of leisure. The man at the helm turns the wheel now and then, and so easily too, touching an electric bell; it's the stoker down below who is pitching into it with his coat off. And look at Captain McMicken promenading the deck in his uniform and a face like a full moon; quite at his ease and ready for a story. And there is Johnnie Watson, chief engineer, who rules over the throbbing heart of the ship; he is standing there prepared for a crack. Moral: Don't worry yourself over work, hold yourself in reserve, and sure as fate, "it will all come right in the wash."

Leaving the contestants, we walked down to the lake in front of the mansion, and with our usual good fortune we were just in time to see the twenty acres of ornamental water dragged for pike, which play such havoc with other fish. The water had been drained into a small pond, which seemed alive with bewildered fish. We sat and watched with quiet interest the men drawing the net. Hundreds were caught at every haul, from which the pike were taken. A tremendous eel gave the men a lively chase; three or four times it escaped, wriggled through their legs and hands one after the other, and made for the water. Had the gamekeeper not succeeded in pinning it to the ground with a pitchfork, the eel would have beaten the whole party.

[Sidenote: _Adam and Eve._]

Lord Vernon's park is rich in attractions. An old narrow picturesque arched bridge, which spans the pretty lake, has a statue of Adam at one end and Eve at the other. Over the former the ivy clusters so thickly as to make our great prototype a mass of living green; poor Eve has been less favored, for she is in a pitiable plight for a woman, with "nothing to wear."

But Eve was not used to kind treatment. Adam was by no means a modern model husband, and never gave Eve anything in excess except blame. Here she is still, the Flora McFlimsy of my friend William Allen Butler (minus the flora as I have said); but let her be patient, her dress is sure to come, for kind nature in England abhors nakedness. She is ever at work clothing everything with her mantle of green.

"Ever and ever bringing secrets forth, It sitteth in the green of forest glades Nursing strange seedlings at the cedar's root, Devising leaves, blooms, blades. This is its touch upon the blossomed rose, The fashion of its hand-shaped lotus leaves; In dark soil and the silence of the seeds The robe of Spring it weaves."

We had rare enjoyment at the lake, and envied Lord Vernon his princely heritage. The old forester who once showed me over a noble estate in Scotland was quite right. I was enchanted with one of the views, and repeated.

"Where is the coward who would not dare To fight for such a land!"

"Aye," said the old man, "aye, it's a grand country, _for the lairds_." It will be a grander country some day when it is less "for the lairds" and more for the toiling masses; but may the destroying angel of progress look kindly upon such scenes of beauty as Sudbury Park. The extensive estate may be disentailed and cultivated by a thousand small owners in smiling homes, with educated children within them, and the land bring forth greater harvests touched by the magic wand of the sense of ownership--for it makes an infinite difference to call a thing your own--and yet the mansion and park remain intact and give to its possessor rarer pleasures than at present. I think one of the greatest drawbacks to life in Britain in grand style must be the contrast existing between the squire and the people about him. It is bad enough even in Chester Valley, where the average condition and the education of the inhabitants are probably equal to any locality in the world, but in England it is far too marked for comfort, I should think.

While we were still lingering on the banks of the lake Perry's horn sounded from the main road to call us from the enchanting scene, and we were off for Dovedale through pretty Ashbourne.

[Sidenote: _Horseback Riding._]

As we bowled along the conversation turned upon horseback riding, and some one quoted the famous maxim, "the outside of a horse for the inside of a man." "But what about a woman?" asked F. "Oh," answered Puss, "the outside of a horse for the inside of a woman and the outside as well, for in no other position can a woman ever possibly look so captivating as on a horse. Girls who ride in the park have double chances." A voice from the front--"You are right." Our Pard there admits that he had no idea of falling in love with Annie until he saw her on horseback; and when he had ridden with her a few times he was conquered. A woman looks her loveliest on horseback.

"That is not Mrs. Parr's opinion," rejoined a young lady on the front seat. "I think it is in her splendid 'Dorothy Fox' she says that a woman never shows so clearly the angel of beauty which dwells in a good woman's heart as when she murmurs her yes to her lover."

"Oh, that's not fair," came from the back row. "That's too short, only a moment; and besides only one man sees it. That doesn't count. We mean that a woman shows off better on horseback than anywhere else."

"Oh!" said the cynic, "is that it, Miss? Nothing counts without the showing off, _eh_!" And so we rattled on interrupted at intervals by exclamations called forth by England's unique beauty.

Can any one picture a resting-place so full of peace and beauty as the old Izaak Walton Inn? We arrived there in the twilight, and some of us walked down the long hill and got our first sight of the Dove from the bridge at the foot across the stream.

I got the memorable verses near enough from memory to repeat them on the bridge. Let me put them down here, for in truth, simple as they are, who is going to predict the coming of the day when they will cease to be prized as one of the gems of literature?

"She dwelt among the untrodden ways, Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise, And very few to love.

"A violet by a mossy stone, Half hidden from the eye; Fair as a star when only one Is shining in the sky.

"She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and oh, The difference to me!"

But think of dear old Izaak and of his fishing excursions to this very spot. He actually stayed at our inn! He too is secure of his position as the author of a classic for as long a time as we care to look forward to. Is it not strange that no one has ever imitated this man's unique style? "God leads us not to heaven by many nor by hard questions," says the fisherman, and he knew a thing or two. There is a flavor about him peculiarly his own, but especially rich when read in this old inn, sacred to his memory. I enjoyed him with a fresh relish during the few hours of Sunday which I could devote to him, for there is a good sermon in many a sentence of the "Complete Angler." Dear old boy, your place in my library and in my heart too is secure.

[Sidenote: _Ilam Hall._]

Ilam Hall, near the inn, is the great place, and there is a pretty little church within a stone's throw of it. We walked over on Sunday morning and saw the squire come into church with his family and take his seat among his people, for I take it most of the congregation were connected with the hall. The parson, no doubt, was the appointee of the squire, and we tried to estimate the importance of these two men in the district, their duties and influence--both great--for to a large extent the moral as well as the material well-being of a community in rural England depends upon the character of the hall and parsonage. The squire was Mr. Hanbury, M.P., who courteously invited our party to visit the hall after service, and to stroll as we pleased through his grounds. He had been in America, and knew our erratic genius and brother iron-master Abram S. Hewitt. In the evening we received from him some fine photographs of the hall (a truly noble one), which we prize highly. The accompanying note was even more gratifying, for it said that he had been so warmly received in America that it was always a pleasure when opportunity offered to show Americans such attentions as might be in his power. It is ever thus, cold indifference between the two English-speaking branches is found only among the stay-at-homes. The man who knows from personal experience the leading characteristics of the people upon both sides of the ferry is invariably a warm and sincere friend. The two peoples have only to become acquainted to become enthusiastic over each other's rare qualities.

This is a sheep-grazing district, quite hilly, and the rainfall is much beyond the average; but the weather question troubles us little; the Charioteers carry sunshine within and without. Our afternoon walk was along the Dove, which we followed up the glen between the hills for several miles, finding new beauties at every turn. Mr. H. has the stream on his estate reserved for five miles for his own fishing, but our landlord said he was very generous and always gave a gentleman a day's sport when properly applied for. We were offered free range by Mr. H., a privilege which Davie and I hold in reserve for a future day, that we may most successfully conjure the shade of our congenial brother of the angle; "for you are to note," saith he, "that we anglers all love one another." We at least all love Izaak Walton, "an excellent angler and now with God." Reading the ingenious defence of fishing by our author, "an honest man and a most excellent fly-fisher," is not waste time in these days of violent anti-vivisectionists, who have seen poor hares chased down for sport all their lives, and their Prince shoot pigeons from a trap without a protest, but who affect to feel pity for a cat sacrificed upon the holy altar of science. Miserable hypocrites, who swallow so large a camel and strain at so very small a gnat! It shows what demoralization is brought about in good people by rank and fashion; one rule for the Prince who disgraces himself by cruel sports, another for the medical student who exalts himself working for the good of his race.

[Sidenote: _Izaak Walton._]

But to quaint Izaak's defence; and first as to the fish themselves.

"Nay, the increase of these creatures that are bred and fed in water is not only more and more miraculous, but more advantageous to man, not only for the lengthening of his life, but for the preventing of sickness; for 'tis observed by the most learned physicians that the casting off of Lent and other fish days hath doubtless been the chief cause of those many putrid, shaking, intermitting agues into which this nation of ours is now more subject than those wiser countries which feed on herbs, salads, and plenty of fish. And it is fit to remember that Moses (Levit. 11: 9; Deut. 14: 9) appointed fish to be the chief diet for the best commonwealth that ever yet was; and it is observable not only that there are fish, as namely the whale, three times as big as the mighty elephant that is so fierce in battle, but that the mightiest feasts have been of fish."

Is not that capital? It calls to mind Josh Billings' answer to his correspondent who wrote saying that he had heard many times that a fish diet was most favorable for increase of brain power, but he had never been able to find out the best kind of fish for the purpose. Could he inform him? "In your case," replied Josh, "try a whale or two."

[Sidenote: _Fishing._]

Here is Izaak's argument for the lawfulness of fishing:

"And for the lawfulness of fishing it may very well be maintained by our Saviour's bidding St. Peter cast his hook into the water and catch a fish for money to pay tribute to Cæsar. And it is observable that it was our Saviour's will that four fishermen should have a priority of nomination in the catalogue of his twelve disciples (Matt. 10: 2, 4, 13), as namely: St. Peter, St. Andrew, St. James, and St. John, and then the rest in their order. And it is yet more observable that when our blessed Saviour went up into the mount when he left the rest of his disciples and chose only three to bear him company at his transfiguration, that those three were all fishermen; and it is to be believed that all the other apostles after they betook themselves to follow Christ, betook themselves to be fishermen too: for it is certain that the greater number of them were found together fishing by Jesus after his resurrection, as it is recorded in the 21st chapter of St. John's Gospel, v. 3, 4. This was the employment of these happy fishermen, concerning which choice some have made these observations: first that he never reproved these for their employment or calling as he did the scribes and the money-changers; and secondly, he found that the hearts of such men were fitted for contemplation and quietness, men of mild, and sweet, and peaceable spirits, as indeed most anglers are; these men our blessed Saviour, who is observed to love to plant grace in good natures, though indeed nothing be too hard for him, yet these men he chose to call from their irreprovable employment of fishing and gave them grace to be his disciples and to follow him and do wonders. I say four of twelve."

There I think we may safely rest the defence of our favorite sport, especially upon secondly; for it is all very well to say animals must be slain that we may live, and yet it does not give one a high idea of the fineness of the man who chooses the occupation of a butcher, and is happiest when he is killing something. Blood! Iago, blood! For my part, while recognizing the necessity that the sheep should bleat for the lamb slain that I may feast, I don't profess to see that the arrangement is anything to rave over as an illustration of the wisdom or the goodness of God. Let us eat, asking no questions, but trusting that some day we shall see clearly that all is well. Meanwhile I give up coursing, fox hunting, and pigeon shooting as unworthy sports, and never again will I kill a deer in sport. I once saw the mild, reproachful eyes of one turned upon me as it lay, wounded, as much as to say: "I am so sorry it was _you_ who did this." So was I, poor innocent thing. It is years since I saw that look, but it haunts me yet at intervals. It is one of the many things I have done for which I am ever sorry.

Too much fishing! It is no use to try to give you the good things of Izaak Walton, for it is with him as with Shakespeare. Two volumes of his "beauties" handed to gentle Elia. "This is all very well, my friend, but where are the other five volumes?" We must get out of Dovedale--that is clear. _Allons donc!_

Our stage to-day was to Chatsworth, twenty-four miles, where our Fourth of July dinner was to be celebrated. As we passed Ilam Hall we stopped, sounded our horn, and gave three cheers for the squire who had been so kind to his "American cousins."

Our luncheon was beside the pretty brook at Youlgreaves, on the estate of the Duke of Rutland, and a beautiful trout-stream it is. We could see the speckled beauties darting about, and were quite prepared to believe the wonderful stories told us of the basketfuls taken there sometimes. There is something infectious in a running stream. It is the prettiest thing in nature. Nothing adds so much to our midday enjoyment as one of these babbling brooks,

"Making music o'er the enamelled stones, And giving a gentle kiss to every sedge It overtaketh in its pilgrimage."

If there be "sermons in stones," I think it must be when the pure water sings as it rushes over them.

[Sidenote: _The Burnie._]

The Charioteers demanded that I should repeat "The Burnie," a gem by a true poet, Ballantyne. Would you, my gentle reader, like also to know it? I think you would, for such as have followed me so far must have something akin to me and surely will sometimes like what I like, and I like this much:

"It drappit frae a gray rock upon a mossy stane, An doon amang the green grass it wandered lang alane. It passed the broomie knowe beyond the hunter's hill; It pleased the miller's bairns an it ca'd their faether's mill.

"But soon anither bed it had, where the rocks met aboon, And for a time the burnie saw neither sun nor moon. But the licht o' heaven cam' again, its banks grew green and fair, And many a bonnie flower in its season blossomed there;

"And ither burnies joined till its rippling song was o'er, For the burn became a river ere it reached the ocean's shore. And the wild waves rose to greet it wi' their ain eerie croon. Working their appointed wark and never, never done.

"Nae sad repinings at the hardness o' their lot, Nae heart-burnings at what anither got; The good or ill, the licht or shade, they took as it might be, Sae onward ran the burnie frae the gray rock to the sea."

There's a moral for us! There is always peace at the end if we do our appointed work and leave the result with the Unknown. Let us, then, follow Mrs. Browning,

"And like a cheerful traveller, take the road, Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod To meet the flints?--At least it may be said, 'Because the way is short, I thank thee, God!'"

And so at the sea the burnie's race was run and it found peace. Immensity gives peace always. It is so vain to strive in the presence of the ocean, for it tells of forces irresistible. It obeys its own laws, caring for nought:

"Libel the ocean on its tawny sands, write verses In its praise; the unmoved sea erases both alike. Alas for man! unless his fellows can behold his deeds, He cares not to be great."

Not so. O poet, when man stands on the shore and _thinks_, for then he feels his nothingness, and the applause of his fellows is valued as so much noise merely, except as it serves as proof that he has stirred them for the right. This state lasts unless he lifts his eyes to the skies above the waste, and renews his vows to the Goddess of Duty. He learns, not in the depths nor on the level of ocean's surface, but from higher and beyond--that life is worth living, then he takes up his task and goes on, saying

"And whether crowned or crownless when I fall It matters not, so as God's work is done. I've learned to prize the quiet lightning deed-- Not the applauding thunder at its heels Which men call fame."

[Sidenote: _Daft Callants._]