tion>A. G. K. L'Estrange
Royal Winchester: Wanderings in and about the Ancient Capital of England
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4064066216573
Table of Contents
ROYAL WINCHESTER
WANDERINGS IN AND ABOUT THE ANCIENT CAPITAL OF ENGLAND.
FIRST DAY.
Introduction—The High Street—The Castle—King Arthur—Historical Reminiscences—Executions—The Civil War—Charles II.’s Palace—The Westgate—Wyke—Littleton—Crawley—Lainston—Sparsholt.
“Would that the George Hotel had an old gable, or even an Elizabethan window,” I said to myself as I unshouldered my knapsack; “but perhaps the ordinary visitor thinks more of creature comforts than of artistic effects.”
“Is there anything of antiquity about the house?” I inquired, turning to the waiter.
“Not that I know of,” was the reply; “but it is a very ancient establishment. There is a fresco two hundred years old in one of the rooms,” he added, with a little pride.
I took out my notebook and pencil, and was shown into a ground-floor room in the western and earlier part of the hotel to see this curiosity. Alas! it proved to be nothing but an old paperhanging.
“Not very remarkable,” I said, carelessly.
“Indeed, sir!”
“I am expecting some friends by the next train,” I continued. “We shall require dinner for three. What can we have?”
The waiter was pretty well acquainted with the productions of the culinary department, which had not much charm of novelty, and after settling that important business, I sallied forth to purchase a guide-book. This was not the first time I had been at Winchester, and much of the information it contained was not new to me; but I wished to refresh my memory on some points, as the friends I was expecting looked to me to be their cicerone during the few days we were to spend here together.
Reading some and skipping more, and glancing at the well-known illustrations, I thought myself fairly acquainted with the subject, especially as I had rummaged up something from old books and manuscripts in London. I wished to stand well with the old gentleman and his daughter for certain reasons which I shall not mention—because I may be unsuccessful. Well—we shall see.
Arrival.
Here they are!—warm greetings—the luggage is lifted down, and by degrees the small articles which accompany a lady’s travels were brought in, counted, and arranged. Do the number and variety of them cause me to hesitate or to reflect that in single blessedness—
“When a man’s hat is on his head
His house is thatched and furnishèd”?
No, not for one moment.
Conversation soon becomes more connected, and, in due course, allusion is made to the object of our visit.
“Now, mind you tell us everything about Winchester,” said Miss Hertford, with a smiling emphasis, which showed that she intended to be obeyed.
“Everything, and some other things,” I replied, submissively; “but perhaps you under-estimate the extent of the mine which is here beneath our feet. You are an enchantress, and if you wish to become the idol of antiquaries, turn Winchester upside down for a few hours.”
The present “George” is not inspiring architecturally, but still possesses a fragrance beyond that of mere soups and joints. Here successive generations have been accommodated and regaled,
“Have found the warmest welcome at an inn,”
ever since the days of Edward IV. Had a Visitors Book been kept, what a rare collection of autographs would it have contained! In the twentieth year of Henry VIII. we read of the “In of the George” being leased by the Mayor to one Stephen Boddam, on condition that he pays the rent fixed and forty shillings towards the new making of the chimney.[1] The name of the house was taken from the patron saint of England, pork-dealer, bishop, and dragon-slayer; to whom we find a chapel in Winchester dedicated in Henry IV.’s time.[2]
Sufferings of a Royalist.
The stable at the back is the oldest part. It has a dingy aspect, and an unpleasant association. When Waller was here making demands upon the citizens in 1643, one Master Say, a son of a Prebendary of the Cathedral, directed his servant to conceal his horses. Betrayed and brought before Waller, he was questioned, and his answers being deemed unsatisfactory, was handed over to the Provost Marshal to extract a confession. He was forthwith taken into the “eighteen-stall stable,” a halter was placed round his neck, and, as he still refused information, he was pulled up and down to the rack until nearly strangled. All the spectators retired in disgust—they could not stand the sight.
“How
