and Byways
From a Motor Car
BEING A RECORD OF A FIVE THOUSAND MILE TOUR IN
ENGLAND, WALES AND SCOTLAND
BY
Thos. D. Murph
We saw few
more beautiful landscapes than those which stretched away under the soft glow
of the English twilight from the upland road leading out of Rye. We did not
have much leisure to contemplate the beauty of the scene, but such a constant
succession of delightful vistas as we dashed along, together with the
exhilaration of the fresh sea breeze, forms a pleasing recollection that will
not be easily effaced. The twilight was beginning to fade away beneath the
brilliancy of the full moon when we ran into the village of Bodiam, where
stands one of the most perfect of the ancient castellated mansions to be found
in the Kingdom. We paused a few minutes to view it from a distance and found
ourselves directly in front of a neat-looking hotel—the Castle Inn. Its inviting
appearance, our desire to see the castle more closely, and the fact that
Tunbridge Wells was still a good many miles away over winding roads liberally
sprinkled with steep hills, led us to make Bodiam our stopping place. There are
few things that we have more reason for rejoicing over, for we saw the gray
walls and towers of Bodiam Castle under the enchanting influence of a full,
summer moon.
The castle was built in 1385
and appears to have been intended more as a palatial
residence than a feudal fortress. Its position is not a strong one for defense,
being situated on a level plain rather than upon a commanding eminence, as is
usually the case with fortified castles. It was built after artillery had come
into use, and the futility of erecting a structure that would stand against
this new engine of destruction must have been obvious. The most remarkable
feature is the wide moat which surrounds the castle. In fact, this gives it the
appearance of standing on an island in the middle of a small lake. The water of
the moat was nearly covered by water-lilies.
The walls of the castle are
wonderfully complete, every tower and turret retaining its old-time
battlements. It is supposed never to have sustained an attack by armed forces
and its present condition is due to neglect and decay. From our point of view,
it must have been an insanitary place, standing in the low-lying fens in the
midst of a pool of stagnant water, but such reflection does not detract from
its beauty. I have never seen a more romantic sight than this huge,
quadrangular pile, with its array of battlements and towers rising abruptly out
of the dark waters of the moat. And its whole aspect, as we beheld it—softened
in outline by the mellow moonlight—made a picture that savored more of
enchantment than reality.
Although the hour was late, the
custodian admitted us to the ruins and we passed over
a narrow bridge which crossed the moat. The pathway led through a door in the
great gateway, over which still hangs suspended the iron port-cullis. Inside
there was a grassy court, surrounded by the walls and ruined apartments of the
castle. I ascended one of the main towers by a dilapidated stone stairway and
was well repaid for the effort by the glorious moonlit prospect that stretched
out before me.
When we returned to the Castle
Inn, we found the landlady all attention and she spared no effort to contribute
to our comfort. The little inn was cleanlier and better kept than many of the
more pretentious ones. Bodiam is several miles from the railroad and but few
tourists visit the castle. The principal business of the hotel is to cater to
parties of English trippers who make the neighborhood a resort for fishing and
hunting.
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