Bristol, that great city of the west, with its centuries of history and romance, its memories of the daring Merchant Adventurers and its fine churches, is a good centre from which to reach this district. Or you may go from Frome, that queer busy little town with its narrow medieval streets straggling up and down hill.
All the country round here is full of interest to the lover of nature or antiquity. It is a country of mild airs, where in the sheltered valleys the flowers bloom amazingly early. Yet the average tourist seldom wanders off the beaten track to enjoy this pleasing stretch of rural England.
The Druid Stones at Stanton Drew.
THE STORY OF WILD DARRELL.
There is a strange story told of Littlecote Manor, a glorious old Tudor mansion that lies not far from the pleasant little Berkshire town of Hungerford. This, in Elizabeth’s time, was the ancestral home of the Darrells; but “Wild Darrell,” the last of them to hold it, had to sacrifice the place to save his wicked life. At least so the old tales tell.
This grim story begins with the awakening at dead of night of the village nurse at Shefford, some seven miles away from Littlecote. Masked messengers bade her come at once to a waiting coach to tend a lady “not far away.” She was to ask no questions, she was told, and she must submit to be blindfolded until she reached her destination. But to compensate her for this strange treatment a heavy purse of gold was offered. The nurse, torn between emotions of fear and greed, accepted; and the coach set off.
After a long drive through the winter night, the lumbering vehicle at last came to a halt. The blindfolded nurse was led up a great staircase and, when her bandages were removed, she found herself in a richly furnished bedroom where lay a masked lady in a huge four-post bed.