At Lymington we hail a citizen and inquire in our best French accent for the road to Beaulieu. He studies awhile and shakes his head. Then we seek a never-failing source of information—a garage man—but to our astonishment he is puzzled.
“Boloo, Boloo; never heard of it.”
“What, the old abbey? It can’t be far from here.”
“O, you mean Bewley, to be sure—eight miles straight away; you can’t miss it.”
We hasten on over the moors and through a stretch of woodland into a wooded valley, where we come to a village more pleasing than any we have yet seen in Dorset—a village of thatched cottages and flower gardens fitting well into the charming surroundings. The river, held in leash by a weir, lies in broad, silvery reaches, fringed with willows, and groups of pond lilies dot its surface. Beaulieu, aside from its abbey, might be a shrine for the motorist, for here is the estate of Lord Montague, an enthusiast for the wind-shod steed, who has exchanged his ancestral stables for motors, and, to cap it all, is owner and editor of “The Car.”
There is not much left of the abbey. Henry VIII., with characteristic thrift, floated the stone down the river to build Hurst Castle. The refectory, now restored and used as a parish church, is the most perfect remnant of the once magnificent establishment, whose church almost equalled the huge dimensions of Winchester Cathedral. The late lord did much to restore the ruins, which are now surrounded by lawns and shrubbery. The monks of Beaulieu had wide fame for good cheer—they kept great vineyards and their wines were counted the best in England. The vineyards throve long after the Dissolution, but the last vine, several hundred years old, disappeared about two centuries ago. Just across the river there is a substantial, comfortable hotel belonging to Lord Montague, which is much frequented by fishermen.
AN ISLE OF WIGHT ROAD.
An hour’s run over level but winding roads brought us to the Great Western Hotel in Southampton. It was a needless trip, after all, for the Isle of Wight is best reached from Lymington, whither we returned in the morning.