The Council of the Selborne Society urgently requests visitors to treat the country they are visiting with the reverence due to natural beauty.
DON’T gather such quantities of wild flowers and ferns that before the day is over you are obliged to throw them away on the roadside. By such gathering you injure the flora of the district, and you take away pleasures from many people who like to see flowers and ferns growing in their native haunts.
DON’T disturb the birds in their breeding season.
DON’T litter the places visited with waste papers or torn letters.
DON’T leave empty bottles and other débris of your picnic to vulgarise the spots, the scenery of which you have been enjoying.
HAROLD’S TOWN AND ITS VICINITY.
WALTHAM ABBEY, WALTHAM CROSS,
CHESHUNT, AND HIGH BEECH, EPPING FOREST.
CHAPTER I.
WALTHAM ABBEY.
Harold’s Town! We may well speak of Waltham Holy Cross in this way, for the place virtually owes its foundation to the last representative of the Saxon dynasty, and abounds in associations with the brave, pious, and wise prince whose lordship, like that of his great predecessor, Alfred, had so great an influence for good upon the social and political institutions of our England, and who so nobly and bravely disputed the claim to the throne with the Norman invader on the field of Senlac. We find a contemporary estimate of Earl Harold’s character in the historic tract, De Inventione Sanctæ Crucis, the unknown author of which, who was, however, a Waltham man, says: “His was the truest heart and the wisest head and the strongest and gentlest hand in the land.” And the greatest historians of our own time have spoken in high, appreciative terms of Harold’s work and influence. How considerable, then, is the interest to the traveller and student alike of the place with which the life of Harold was so intimately associated.
Though within just over half an hour’s journey by rail from the Metropolis, and but a crow flight of some thirteen miles therefrom, it would be pretty safe to say that not one per cent. of the inhabitants of the great city have made any sort of acquaintance with the beautiful old minster of Waltham, which stands to-day for one of the finest examples of Norman architecture, vying with Westminster Abbey in this respect, whilst its history is, as old Thomas Fuller has observed, “the history of the Church of England.” And if this ancient pile represents so much architecturally and ecclesiastically, it occupies no mean position among those various influences that have gone to the making of English history.