From London to Land's End

came to Abbotsbury, a town anciently famous for a great monastery,

  and now eminent for nothing but its ruins.

  From hence we went on to Bridport, a pretty large corporation town

  on the sea-shore, though without a harbour. Here we saw boats all

  the way on the shore, fishing for mackerel, which they take in the

  easiest manner imaginable; for they fix one end of the net to a

  pole set deep into the sand, then, the net being in a boat, they

  row right out into the water some length, then turn and row

  parallel with the shore, veering out the net all the while, till

  they have let go all the net, except the line at the end, and then

  the boat rows on shore, when the men, hauling the net to the shore

  at both ends, bring to shore with it such fish as they surrounded

  in the little way they rowed. This, at that time, proved to be an

  incredible number, insomuch that the men could hardly draw them on

  shore. As soon as the boats had brought their fish on shore we

  observed a guard or watch placed on the shore in several places,

  who, we found, had their eye, not on the fishermen, but on the

  country people who came down to the shore to buy their fish; and

  very sharp we found they were, and some that came with small carts

  were obliged to go back empty without any fish. When we came to

  inquire into the particulars of this, we found that these were

  officers placed on the shore by the justices and magistrates of the

  towns about, who were ordered to prevent the country farmers buying

  the mackerel to dung their land with them, which was thought to be

  dangerous as to infection. In short, such was the plenty of fish

  that year that the mackerel, the finest and largest I ever saw,

  were sold at the seaside a hundred for a penny.

  From Bridport (a town in which we see nothing remarkable) we came

  to Lyme, the town particularly made famous by the landing of the

  Duke of Monmouth and his unfortunate troops in the time of King

  James II., of which I need say nothing, the history of it being so

  recent in the memory of so many living.

  This is a town of good figure, and has in it several eminent

  merchants who carry on a considerable trade to France, Spain,

  Newfoundland, and the Straits; and though they have neither creek

  or bay, road or river, they have a good harbour, but it is such a

  one as is not in all Britain besides, if there is such a one in any

  part of the world.

  It is a massy pile of building, consisting of high and thick walls

  of stone, raised at first with all the methods that skill and art

  could devise, but maintained now with very little difficulty. The

  walls are raised in the main sea at a good distance from the shore;

  it consists of one main and solid wall of stone, large enough for

  carts and carriages to pass on the top, and to admit houses and

  warehouses to be built on it, so that it is broad as a street.

  Opposite to this, but farther into the sea, is another wall of the

  same workmanship, which crosses the end of the first wall and comes

  about with a tail parallel to the first wall.

  Between the point of the first or main wall is the entrance into

  the port, and the second or opposite wall, breaking the violence of

  the sea from the entrance, the ships go into the basin as into a

  pier or harbour, and ride there as secure as in a millpond or as in

  a wet dock.

  The townspeople have the benefit of this wonderful harbour, and it

  is carefully kept in repair, as indeed it behoves them to do; but

  they could give me nothing of the history of it, nor do they, as I

  could perceive, know anything of the original of it, or who built

  it. It was lately almost beaten down by a storm, but is repaired

  again.

  This work is called the Cobb. The Custom House officers have a

  lodge and warehouse upon it, and there were several ships of very

  good force and rich in value in the basin of it when I was there.

  It might be strengthened with a fort, and the walls themselves are

  firm enough to carry what guns they please to plant upon it; but

  they did not seem to think it needful, and as the shore is

  convenient for batteries, they have some guns planted in proper

  places, both for the defence of the Cobb and the town also.

  This town is under the government of a mayor and aldermen, and may

  pass for a place of wealth, considering the bigness of it. Here,

  we found, the merchants began to trade in the pilchard-fishing,

  though not to so considerable a degree as they do farther west--the

  pilchards seldom coming up so high eastward as Portland, and not

  very often so high as Lyme.

  It was in sight of these hills that Queen Elizabeth's fleet, under

  the command of the Lord Howard of Effingham (then Admiral), began

  first to engage in a close and resolved fight with the invincible

  Spanish Armada in 1588, maintaining the fight, the Spaniards making

  eastward till they came the length of Portland Race, where they

  gave it over--the Spaniards having received considerable damage,

  and keeping then closer together. Off of the same place was a

  desperate engagement in the year 1672 between the English and

  Dutch, in which the Dutch were worsted and driven over to the coast

  of France, and then glad to make home to refit and repair.

  While we stayed here some time viewing this town and coast, we had

  opportunity to observe the pleasant way of conversation as it is

  managed among the gentlemen of this county and their families,

  which are, without reflection, some of the most polite and well-

  bred people in the isle of Britain. As their hospitality is very

  great, and their bounty to the poor remarkable, so their generous

  friendly way of living with, visiting, and associating one with

  another is as hard to be described as it is really to be admired;

  they seem to have a mutual confidence in and friendship with one

  another, as if they were all relations; nor did I observe the

  sharping, tricking temper which is too much crept in among the

  gaming and horse-racing gentry in some parts of England to be so

  much known among them any otherwise than to be abhorred; and yet

  they sometimes play, too, and make matches and horse-races, as they

  see occasion.

  The ladies here do not want the help of assemblies to assist in

  matchmaking, or half-pay officers to run away with their daughters,

  which the meetings called assemblies in some other parts of England

  are recommended for. Here is no Bury Fair, where the women are

  scandalously said to carry themselves to market, and where every

  night they meet at the play or at the assembly for intrigue; and

  yet I observed that the women do not seem to stick on hand so much

  in this country as in those countries where those assemblies are so

  lately set up--the reason of which, I cannot help saying, if my

  opinion may bear any weight, is that the Dorsetshire ladies are

  equal in beauty, and may be superior in reputation. In a word,

  their reputation seems here to be better kept, guarded by better

  conduct, and managed with more prudence; and yet
the Dorsetshire

  ladies, I assure you, are not nuns; they do not go veiled about

  streets, or hide themselves when visited; but a general freedom of

  conversation--agreeable, mannerly, kind, and good--runs through the

  whole body of the gentry of both sexes, mixed with the best of

  behaviour, and yet governed by prudence and modesty such as I

  nowhere see better in all my observation through the whole isle of

  Britain. In this little interval also I visited some of the

  biggest towns in the north-west part of this county, as Blandford--

  a town on the River Stour in the road between Salisbury and

  Dorchester--a handsome well-built town, but chiefly famous for

  making the finest bone-lace in England, and where they showed me

  some so exquisitely fine as I think I never saw better in Flanders,

  France, or Italy, and which they said they rated at above 30 pounds

  sterling a yard; but I suppose there was not much of this to be

  had. But it is most certain that they make exceeding rich lace in

  that county, such as no part of England can equal.

  From thence I went west to Stourbridge, vulgarly called Strabridge.

  The town and the country around is employed in the manufacture of

  stockings, and which was once famous for making the finest, best,

  and highest-prize knit stocking in England; but that trade now is

  much decayed by the increase of the knitting-stocking engine or

  frame, which has destroyed the hand-knitting trade for fine

  stockings through the whole kingdom, of which I shall speak more in

  its place.

  From hence I came to Sherborne, a large and populous town, with one

  collegiate or conventual church, and may properly claim to have

  more inhabitants in it than any town in Dorsetshire, though it is

  neither the county-town, nor does it send members to Parliament.

  The church is still a reverend pile, and shows the face of great

  antiquity. Here begins the Wiltshire medley clothing (though this

  town be in Dorsetshire), of which I shall speak at large in its

  place, and therefore I omit any discourse of it here.

  Shaftesbury is also on the edge of this county, adjoining to

  Wiltshire and Dorsetshire, being fourteen miles from Salisbury,

  over that fine down or carpet ground which they call particularly

  or properly Salisbury Plain. It has neither house nor town in view

  all the way; and the road, which often lies very broad and branches

  off insensibly, might easily cause a traveller to lose his way.

  But there is a certain never-failing assistance upon all these

  downs for telling a stranger his way, and that is the number of

  shepherds feeding or keeping their vast flocks of sheep which are

  everywhere in the way, and who with a very little pains a traveller

  may always speak with. Nothing can be like it. The Arcadians'

  plains, of which we read so much pastoral trumpery in the poets,

  could be nothing to them.

  This Shaftesbury is now a sorry town upon the top of a high hill,

  which closes the plain or downs, and whence Nature presents you a

  new scene or prospect--viz., of Somerset and Wiltshire--where it is

  all enclosed, and grown with woods, forests, and planted hedge-

  rows; the country rich, fertile, and populous; the towns and houses

  standing thick and being large and full of inhabitants, and those

  inhabitants fully employed in the richest and most valuable

  manufacture in the world--viz., the English clothing, as well the

  medley or mixed clothing as whites, as well for the home trade as

  the foreign trade, of which I shall take leave to be very

  particular in my return through the west and north part of

  Wiltshire in the latter part of this work.

  In my return to my western progress, I passed some little part of

  Somersetshire, as through Evil or Yeovil, upon the River Ivil, in

  going to which we go down a long steep hill, which they call

  Babylon Hill, but from what original I could find none of the

  country people to inform me.

  This Yeovil is a market-town of good resort; and some clothing is

  carried on in and near it, but not much. Its main manufacture at

  this time is making of gloves.

  It cannot pass my observation here that when we are come this

  length from London the dialect of the English tongue, or the

  country way of expressing themselves, is not easily understood--it

  is so strangely altered. It is true that it is so in many parts of

  England besides, but in none in so gross a degree as in this part.

  This way of boorish country speech, as in Ireland it is called the

  "brogue" upon the tongue, so here it is called "jouring;" and it is

  certain that though the tongue be all mere natural English, yet

  those that are but a little acquainted with them cannot understand

  one-half of what they say. It is not possible to explain this

  fully by writing, because the difference is not so much in the

  orthography of words as in the tone and diction--their abridging

  the speech, "cham" for "I am," "chil" for "I will," "don" for "put

  on," and "doff" for "put off," and the like. And I cannot omit a

  short story here on this subject. Coming to a relation's house,

  who was a school-master at Martock, in Somersetshire, I went into

  his school to beg the boys a play-day, as is usual in such cases (I

  should have said, to beg the master a play-day. But that by the

  way). Coming into the school, I observed one of the lowest

  scholars was reading his lesson to the usher, which lesson, it

  seems, was a chapter in the Bible. So I sat down by the master

  till the boy had read out his chapter. I observed the boy read a

  little oddly in the tone of the country, which made me the more

  attentive, because on inquiry I found that the words were the same

  and the orthography the same as in all our Bibles. I observed also

  the boy read it out with his eyes still on the book and his head

  (like a mere boy) moving from side to side as the lines reached

  cross the columns of the book. His lesson was in the Canticles, v.

  3 of chap. v. The words these:- "I have put off my coat. How

  shall I put it on? I have washed my feet. How shall I defile

  them?"

  The boy read thus, with his eyes, as I say, full on the text:-

  "Chav a doffed my cooat. How shall I don't? Chav a washed my

  veet. How shall I moil 'em?"

  How the dexterous dunce could form his month to express so readily

  the words (which stood right printed in the book) in his country

  jargon, I could not but admire. I shall add to this another piece

  as diverting, which also happened in my knowledge at this very town

  of Yeovil, though some years ago.

  There lived a good substantial family in the town not far from the

  "Angel Inn"--a well-known house, which was then, and, I suppose, is

  still, the chief inn of the town. This family had a dog which,

  among his other good qualities for which they kept him (for he was

  a rare house-dog), had this bad one--that he was a most notorious

  thief, but withal so cunning a dog, and managed himself so warily,

  that he preserved a mighty good reputation am
ong the neighbourhood.

  As the family was well beloved in the town, so was the dog. He was

  known to be a very useful servant to them, especially in the night

  (when he was fierce as a lion; but in the day the gentlest,

  lovingest creature that could be), and, as they said, all the

  neighbours had a good word for this dog.

  It happened that the good wife or mistress at the "Angel Inn" had

  frequently missed several pieces of meat out of the pail, as they

  say--or powdering-tub, as we call it--and that some were very large

  pieces. It is also to be observed the dog did not stay to eat what

  he took upon the spot, in which case some pieces or bones or

  fragments might be left, and so it might be discovered to be a dog;

  but he made cleaner work, and when he fastened upon a piece of meat

  he was sure to carry it quite away to such retreats as he knew he

  could be safe in, and so feast upon it at leisure.

  It happened at last, as with most thieves it does, that the inn-

  keeper was too cunning for him, and the poor dog was nabbed, taken

  in the fact, and could make no defence.

  Having found the thief and got him in custody, the master of the

  house, a good-humoured fellow, and loth to disoblige the dog's

  master by executing the criminal, as the dog law directs, mitigates

  his sentence, and handled him as follows:- First, taking out his

  knife, he cut off both his ears; and then, bringing him to the

  threshold, he chopped off his tail. And having thus effectually

  dishonoured the poor cur among his neighbours, he tied a string

  about his neck, and a piece of paper to the string, directed to his

  master, and with these witty West Country verses on it:-

  "To my honoured master,--Esq.

  "Hail master a cham a' com hoam,

  So cut as an ape, and tail have I noan,

  For stealing of beef and pork out of the pail,

  For thease they'v cut my ears, for th' wother my tail;

  Nea measter, and us tell thee more nor that

  And's come there again, my brains will be flat."

  I could give many more accounts of the different dialects of the

  people of this country, in some of which they are really not to be

  understood; but the particulars have little or no diversion in

  them. They carry it such a length that we see their "jouring"

  speech even upon their monuments and grave-stones; as, for example,

  even in some of the churchyards of the city of Bristol I saw this

  excellent poetry after some other lines:-

  "And when that thou doest hear of thick,

  Think of the glass that runneth quick."

  But I proceed into Devonshire. From Yeovil we came to Crookorn,

  thence to Chard, and from thence into the same road I was in before

  at Honiton.

  This is a large and beautiful market-town, very populous and well

  built, and is so very remarkably paved with small pebbles that on

  either side the way a little channel is left shouldered up on the

  sides of it, so that it holds a small stream of fine clear running

  water, with a little square dipping-place left at every door; so

  that every family in the town has a clear, clean running river (as

  it may be called) just at their own door, and this so much finer,

  so much pleasanter, and agreeable to look on than that at Salisbury

  (which they boast so much of), that, in my opinion, there is no

  comparison.

  Here we see the first of the great serge manufacture of Devonshire-

  -a trade too great to be described in miniature, as it must be if I

  undertake it here, and which takes up this whole county, which is

  the largest and most populous in England, Yorkshire excepted (which

  ought to be esteemed three counties, and is, indeed, divided as

  such into the East, West, and North Riding). But Devonshire, one

  entire county, is so full of great towns, and those towns so full

  of people, and those people so universally employed in trade and

  manufactures, that not only it cannot be equalled in England, but

  perhaps not in Europe.

  In my travel through Dorsetshire I ought to have observed that the