Be careful of your life all sin to fly,
Lest you by death be taken suddenly.
When he is sent on you arrest to make
No fees, nor Bail, can purchase your escape.
London:
Printed for R. Vaughan in the Little Old Bailey.
1674.
“a punctual account of a most true and unparalleled Disaster which happened at Goring Lock, going to Stately on Monday the 6th of this instant July 1674 about 7 aclock at night, where about 50 or 60 persons, of Men, Women, and Children, with one Mare crossing the water together in a boat from Oxfordsheir to Barksheir by the watermen’s imprudently rowing too neer the shore of the Lock they were by the force of the water drawn down the Lock, where their boat being presently overwhelmed they were all turned into the Pool except fourteen or fifteen (who had been all there at the Feast at Goring) were all unfortunately drowned, and to show how vain all human aid is when Destiny interposes, this happened in the view of hundreds of people, then met at the same feast, near this fatal Lock, who found the exercise of their pastime disturbed, and their Jollity dashed by this mournful Disaster, of which they were helpless—but I hope not fruitless—spectators.”
This calamity so impressed the pamphleteer that he drew from it the conclusion the end of the world was at hand; but he appears to have been quite as eager to sell his pamphlet as though the world were good enough to last all his time. That is over two hundred and thirty years ago, and the old globe still spins in space.
The white-painted wooden toll-bridge that carries the road across the river to Streatley gives the wayfarer the best views. From it you see to greatest advantage the foaming weir, the green backwaters, and the mill. Let us cross this bridge to Streatley, avoiding the fearful hill that leads past the hamlet of Gathampton, circuitously up to Goring Heath, and then alarmingly down to Whitchurch. Streatley we shall find much smaller and simpler than Goring. There, to one side of the bridge, is the mill, with the neatest of lawns, decorated with brilliant flowers, giving upon the water; while on the other is the waterside Swan inn, greatly resembling some ancient private residence, also with its lawns and with a full supply of the easiest chairs, wherein to do that most difficult of things—nothing.
