Part 8 (2/2)
The great hills of the South Country They stand along the sea: And it's there walking in the high woods That I could wish to be, And the men that were boys when I was a boy Walking along with me.
The men that live in North England I saw them for a day: Their hearts are set upon the waste fells, Their skies are fast and grey: From their castle-walls a man may see The mountains far away.
The men that live in West England They see the Severn strong, A-rolling on rough water brown Light aspen leaves along.
They have the secret of the Rocks, And the oldest kind of song.
But the men that live in the South Country Are the kindest and most wise, They get their laughter from the loud surf, And the faith in their happy eyes Comes surely from our Sister the Spring, When over the sea she flies; The violets suddenly bloom at her feet, She blesses us with surprise.
I never get between the pines, But I smell the Suss.e.x air, Nor I never come on a belt of sand But my home is there; And along the sky the line of the Downs So n.o.ble and so bare.
A lost thing could I never find, Nor a broken thing mend; And I fear I shall be all alone When I get towards the end.
Who will there be to comfort me, Or who will be my friend?
I will gather and carefully make my friends Of the men of the Suss.e.x Weald, They watch the stars from silent folds, They stiffly plough the field.
By them and the G.o.d of the South Country My poor soul shall be healed.
If I ever become a rich man, Or if ever I grow to be old, I will build a house with deep thatch To shelter me from the cold, And there shall the Suss.e.x songs be sung And the story of Suss.e.x told.
I will hold my house in the high wood Within a walk of the sea, And the men who were boys when I was a boy Shall sit and drink with me.
[Sidenote: NEWLAND, NYREN, AND SILVER BILLY]
Richard Newland, the father of serious cricket, came from this parish.
He was born in 1718, or thereabouts, and in 1745 he made 88 for England against Kent. He was left-handed, and the finest bat ever seen in those days. He taught Richard Nyren, of Hambledon, all the skill and judgment that that n.o.ble general possessed; Nyren communicated his knowledge to the Hambledon eleven, and the game was made. An interest in historical veracity compels me to add that William Beldham--Silver Billy--talking to Mr. Pycroft, discounted some of Nyren's praise. ”Cricket,” he said, ”was played in Suss.e.x very early, before my day at least [he was born in 1766]; but that there was no good play I know by this, that Richard Newland, of Slindon in Suss.e.x, as you say, sir, taught old Richard Nyren, and that no Suss.e.x man could be found to play Newland. Now a second-rate man of our parish beat Newland easily; so you may judge what the rest of Suss.e.x then were.” But this is disregarding the characteristic uncertainty of the game.
If one would spend a day far from mankind, on high ground, there is no better way than to walk from Arundel through Houghton Forest (where, as we have seen, Charles II. avoided the Governor) to c.o.c.king.
CHAPTER VIII
LITTLEHAMPTON
A children's paradise--Wind-swept villages--Cary and Coleridge--Suss.e.x folklore--Climping--Richard Jefferies and Suss.e.x--John Taylor the Water Poet--Highdown Hill--A miller in love with death--A digression on mills and millers--Treason at Patching--A wife in a thousand--A Suss.e.x truffler--The Palmer triplets.
Littlehampton is favoured in having both sea and river. It also has lawns between the houses and the beach, as at Dieppe, and is as nearly a children's paradise as exists. The sea at low tide recedes almost beyond the reach of the ordinary paddler, which is as it should be except for those that would swim. A harbour, a pier, a lighthouse, a windmill--all these are within a few yards of each other. On the neighbouring beach, springing from the stones, you find the yellow-horned poppy, beautiful both in flower and leaf, and the delicate tamarisk makes a natural hedge parallel with the sea, to Worthing on the one side, and to Bognor on the other.
The little villages in the flats behind the eastern tamarisk hedge--Rustington, Preston, Ferring, are, in summer, veritable sun traps, with their white walls dazzling in radiance. Such trees as grow about here all bow to the north-east, bent to that posture by the prevailing south-west winds. A Suss.e.x man, on the hills or south of them, lost at night, has but to ascertain the outline of a tree, and he may get his bearings. If he cannot see so much as that he has but to feel the bark for lichen, which grows on the north east, or lee, side.
It was at Littlehampton in September, 1817, that Coleridge met Cary, the translator of Dante. Cary was walking on the beach, reciting Homer to his son. Up came a noticeable man with large grey eyes: ”Sir, yours is a face I should know. I am Samuel Taylor Coleridge.”
[Sidenote: A CHURCH DUEL]
The county paper for February 27, 1796, has this paragraph: ”On Monday last a duel was fought betwixt Mr. R----n and Lieut. B----y, both of Littlehampton, in a field near that place, which, after the discharge of each a pistol, terminated without bloodshed. The dispute, we understand, originated about a pew in the parish church.”
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