With variation of tense another verse of the same poem applies to it:—
It knows the glow of eventide,
The sunrise and the noon,
And sanctified and glorified
It sleeps beneath the moon.
The time has come to leave, and we return to our team. Old Sarum has been seen, and is never to be forgotten. Where are they who here thought and labored a thousand years ago? Gone, without a solitary exception, gone to the silent mansions of the dead.
AMESBURY.
Three miles more and we are at Amesbury, the town for which our Massachusetts Amesbury was named. One of us having been born within five miles of the latter, we must of course see its prototype. We found it to be remarkably neat but queer. The streets and avenues are hard and smooth. There are no modern buildings. It is substantial, not thickly settled, rural to a fault, but bears marks of high antiquity. Here are the remains of a celebrated abbey, now used as the parish church. The outline is varied but low. A mile or two away was born, at Milston in 1672, Joseph Addison. One cannot help being reminded that this was a fitting place for the beginning of such a career. In all our wanderings we have seen no town resembling this,—odd in the plan of the roads, peculiar in its fixed appearance, nothing suggesting change or repair. Most of the buildings are brick, two stories in height, and a market-place is at the centre. How admirable the surroundings,—Salisbury, Sarum, Stonehenge, Wilton, Bemerton.
This ride was, all things considered, the most delightful in our journey through England. The scenery was nowhere wild or romantic, but the reverse. The landscape was undulating, with great valleys well supplied with groves, the whole forming a panoramic view of unsurpassed elegance.
STONEHENGE.
A ride of six miles, and we reach Stonehenge, on the Salisbury Plain. The plain is three or four miles in extent, comparatively level, well grassed, and surrounded with hills. No house could be seen, nor any sign of civilization save the road and the sheep and the cattle so quietly grazing. A sign at the left of the roadside directed us into a cart-path over the field. Our driver, an old visitor, informed us that yonder, a distance requiring a slow five minutes' ride, were the famed ruins, in the midst of this vast field, without a tree for company. Alighting there we found an elderly man in attendance to describe the ruins, and see that tourists did no harm. We were informed that the present owner of the domain, Lord——, was pleased to have visitors come, and that all were welcome, but strictly prohibited from removing fragments or defacing the stones. Two large ovals are inside of two circles. On these, or lying about them, are large rough-squared oblong stones, many of them four feet wide, two feet thick, and fifteen feet long. While keeping the same general form, the others vary in size down to half these dimensions. All have a blackened grayish appearance, with spots of thin moss on them. Several of them are set like posts in the ground, some perpendicular, others aslant. Some rest on the top of these, reaching from one to another. Some stand alone; others have fallen, and lie flat. Some of them are broken or lean against others. To complete the scene is a flat stone called the altar, inside of the inner oval. This is a slab about fifteen feet long and four feet wide. The grass growing about them is well trodden down and cropped by the sheep. There were originally one hundred and forty stones, and they varied in weight from six to seventy tons. They are much weather-worn, though many of them retain sharp angles; and on the top of the pillars are small rude tenons, with corresponding mortices in those that once rested upon them. The large ones appear to be about twelve feet high, and they stand four or five feet apart. The outer circle has seventeen stones remaining out of the original thirty; the inner has but eight whole stones, and fragments of twelve others. The inner oval consisted of twenty smaller stones, of which eleven are yet standing. The other oval had ten stones, of which eight remain.
Scattered over the plain, in sight of these ruins, are about three hundred mounds or tumuli, varying from six feet to forty in diameter. They are conical in form, and well grassed over. Some of these have been opened, and they prove to be places of sepulture; for in them were charred human bones, fragments of pottery, and British and Roman ornaments and weapons. On making excavations at the altar, remains of oxen, deer, and other animals were found, mingled with burnt wood and pieces of ancient pottery.