THE PATH TO GLORY.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7891, 22 December 1903, Page 2

THE PATH TO GLORY.

NELSON'S KOAD TO PORTSMOUTH. (Bj 11. B. MARRIOTT- WATSON, in the "Dally Midi.") As the sea is England's birthright, and tho fragrance of the brine is a» breath m the nostrils of the EnglisKman, so our chief highway to the sea, from the heart of the kingdom/ is, and has always been, of 'national importance!. It was necessary in. 1 the troubled times of the seventeenth century to keep touch with Ireland^ which winda and waves severed from her suiter island, yet the Holyhead: Road was never of such vital consequence as that white way which runs by England's fairest counties down to her emporium of ships, and the seat of her main defence. The Portsmouth Road goes back to tho foundations of the English navfld power ; ita origins are in legendary history. It seems somehow to the ear almost as important as Mag*a Charta. , NELSON'S LAST JOURNEY. Along this artery the blood of England has ever coursed, though it was the fourth Edward who first raifced Portsmouth into a defensive 'harbour. Yet roads, as we know thtem, are of comparatively modem, dates and until the beginning of the nineteenth century travellers on. any highway in the kingdom took their comfort, if not their lives, in uieir hands. In 1703 Prince George of 'Denmark thought himself fortunate to accomplish nine miles in six hour* on this road. In 1751 Df Burton suggested that all tba animals in Sussex, including the women, were long-legged, because of " the difficulty of pulling their feet out of sd much mud," which strengthened, the muscles and lengthened the bone* ! » The road was still in it* antediluvian condition when just ninety-eight years ago Lord Nelson hurried in- a, chaise to Portsmouth to hoist his flag upon- the Victory.' He left Mertori, where Lady Hamilton and his child were living, at ten o'clock on the night of September 15, and arrived at the Gteorgfe afc Portsmouth ot> ax the following morning, tt was a Saturday, and; when he went aboard' at two o'clock, despite. lub efforts after privacy, he was attended by crowds, who jfrept, and' prayed) and blessed him. The next morning he sailed for Cadiz* victory an$ — death. With Macadam arid Telford cams a iW* lution, and the faihfcHis road Was populous with coaches— private* stag© aiid inaal. Today it is, on the whole, the best-knowfiand most 'beautiful highway out of London. The Great North Road cannot boast & higher popularity, inasmuch a£ the Great North Road (romantic name!) feeds the flatter and tamer country regions of England thifc sid« of the Wash, whereas the south-west of Town is scattered with historic loveliness in plenty.- The cyclist fares to and fro as fat aa Ripley and Guildford, little recking that his wheel passes over land which Caesar's legions trod. But to penetrate so fa* is only to skirt the fringes of the road. AN OLD-WORM) ttOAD. Along the Seventy miles . of frcfed is a chain of old-world English village* and towns to draw tears to the eyes of the senthtvental exile. There was a man^ in banishment froni -fafe native l&a&, who broke <doWri at- ail aniazing New Zealand scene hj moonlight. ".QrSat Heaven!" he cried, "this is like the water oft Liindy Island, and 1 I not there, and I not there!" So weeps the exile at the thought of these great links 'twiit London and the sea. The ganglion of heaths Jnay be Said io begin at Putney, tuteey, once a. village, neat by which "the great Pitt fought a. duel with William Tiefney, and Castlereagh . with merges into the broad aores oi Wimbledon; and Hherealloi' ynu are neyei free of commons savo for brief spaces. Ihe Dittons give plfucfe to Esher, amd Esher to Coßham. Beyond again stretch the wastes of Wisley. . Of.reoent years tho country as far aa Hin&head; may be said to have come to our door®. You open & peephole, so to speak, iti, your meanory that lobkfe out on these bald "heights on which a distinguished colony has- settled. The approach is in the grand manner-^-acfoss wild heaths and up dignified; slopes— till all is crowned by the bare inhospitable summit. Within eyeshot loom the hills of Hanfftshire, and the Portsmouth RoardV* broad white belt— fails by copse and heath to Liphdok. The oddness of this ro6d is that, solitary and even forlorn as it is in places, such as But?er Hill, it yet wears ait intervals a pretty air of subui-ban conifort. The environis of Petersfleldl have been singled out like the 1 slopes of Hihdhead to house the well-to-do in feeaich of air. La<nd is advertised for building piirpc<3es. There are prosperous, respectable colonies here and there, into which villa girls wander in blmiE'&s, and) on. which fly holiday flags. Ar© these the signs of the movement which pessimists have prophesied, and Will England, in all her beauty, be some day the suburbs of America? Heaveti forbid! WAYSIDE SCENERY. The diversity 61 scenery aloiig tfee iroad arre^te the observant eye. Smiling parkwoodland ivc.de wild heath succeed one another; and off th© immediate road are some of the most charming corners in Enggland. Behind Liphook— -where Pebys on his way to Portemoutiii iodged in the famous Anchor—lies Woolmer Forest/ now disafforested', but still beautiful. Haslenl l 6re stands by Hindbead; and below the Alpine declivities of Rake is Midhuist. The very name of LisS is a caress. But the main ch^aicter of the road is that of a manly austerity as if it simulated tie primeval wildernesses. Hindhead we have seen, and to that succeeds the eminence of Rake, wheno* the .gaze may roam boldly to t"he sea. But tho most broken country lies seaward' of P-etersfield, and begins with Butser Hili. The hills here have all the features of chalk, being of soft and rounded contours, and growing small juniper trees. But for the most part they encounter too inclement seasons to harbour much vegetation.; The villages and plateaus are smiling asfld fertile, but seem somehow desolate amd unfriendly in their distance. This must, hate been a famous road for the highwayman, as ths stage j headed a-nd rocked along those chalk causeways in the sid« of the hills. THE COACH AND HORSES. In the centre of all this wilderness stands a little wayside tavern, the Coach and Horses, which takes the sunlight and the rains, year in, y-ear out, away from the call and sight of man. It is a .pleasing situation for the recluse to retire to and meditate unprofitably upon the vanity of riches. Westwards still the road goes down into a handsome champaign, -wherein it travels by- Horndean and Waterlooville (if you please) to t'/ie rise above the island which holds Soutfis-sa, Poftsea. and Portsmouth. But tlift aspect of that little lonely mn must call up memories. What hn« i* not witnessed in stormier clays? It was dark when Nelson clattered by on his Way to save Europe. This road is strewn with signals" of the traffic of sailors. All along are names that bespenk invitation to wanderm"- s=enmen •tramping to London. At Liphook is the Anchor, at the same place the Ship at- Petersfield the Dolphin, this Bide of Guildfo!.* the Jovial Sailor, and at Riplev the Anchor ajrniri. The old parish books of districts on the way are full of services and charities .-granted to these unfortunate ."travelers. And is not. the Devil's Punch Bowl on Hindhead mark- j ed out for one as the epot on which a hapless sailor met his end? On Rake heights 'hung, in 1748. the bodi-es of the smugglers who pursued a wretched exciseman to that- inland district mid 1 barbarously murdered him. The road was solitary in those days, solitary 'by r-^enn of the morasses and (boors which composed it. Ib is a still hard Toad 1 that rr>' iiinr to our chief naval port, and cvflists nnd rnrriaaros and motor cars tlnnc it. Tt is a crowded highway, and mnvbe commnncls lovelier scen-ery than any' iicrhway in the woi.ld. At leasi>> we Lon-

doners may think so. Yet here, too, in the hub of England, as ifc were, are quiet spots and peaceful ways — the Coach and Horses, for. example. What has it seen? Who hare passed here since King Harry rode by at the -h^ad of his -courtiers? But the inn will keep its secrets and its soli- j tude.