English country towns differ completely from continental ones chiefly for this reason. On the Continent, towns were nearly always fortified and surrounded by walls, though often their population was that of a mere village. These little fortified places are in Germany called "dwarf cities," to distinguish them from the "dorf," or "village." In England, however, small towns were rarely fortified or walled, except when they were situated upon the sea-coast, where they had to be ready to resist the landing of some foreign enemy. Lyme-Regis, Dorsetshire, is an example of a small English fortified town, and it is quite strange how much the place (of course we refer to the old portions of it) impresses one with its continental aspect, because directly a town is "circumvallated," every building within it has to be erected upon a contracted space, and the houses are consequently developed in height, so that they in no way differ from those of a city; in fact, the small town might, architecturally, be a piece of some large city.
Such English towns as Amersham, Lavenham, Clare, Wheathamstead, etc., are, architecturally, large villages, and probably originated in the same manner—i.e., they were dependencies upon some lordship or monastery.
The English word "village" is derived from the Roman word "villa." The villa was the castle or manorial house of the proprietor of the land surrounded by a series of humble structures inhabited by his labourers and "serfs." This was the "village" or dependency of the villa, and hence its inhabitants were called "villains" (villani). Now we are aware that some modern writers attempt to derive these words from the German "wealh" (a welchman), yet the old and usually received idea seems so obvious that we accept it.
How the meaning of the words "villa" and "villain" have been changed, and yet how singularly the old word "village" has retained its meaning!
The modern stucco, semi-detached "desirable residence," with its four or six rooms, with its "rustic porch" and gritty front garden, is a strange parody upon the stately villa of old, and the good, honest villager is neither a "villain" nor "a Welshman." He may sometimes be the latter, and justly proud of his origin, but, in any case, he is very unlike our conception of a villain. If recent newspaper reports can be trusted, that character is rather personified by the London "loafer" and his most modern representative "the Hooligan."
When the villages increased in size and became important, usually in the 13th century, many of them claimed municipal privileges, were called towns, and erected "town halls," which are often highly-picturesque structures. That at Ledbury, Herefordshire, is an interesting example which probably dates from the 16th century. They are generally supported upon pillars so as to leave the ground-floor an open, covered space which served as a market.
Very charming are these villages and small country towns with their quaint old cottages and picturesque little houses bordering the wide street. Great elms shade the foot-path, and sweet gardens are at the side or back of each dwelling. Perhaps a clear river winds its way amidst the ruddy buildings, its banks converted into diminutive kitchen-gardens, and crossed here and there by bridges. The long low building of a water-mill seems to block the way altogether, but in reality it simply utilises the water to turn its wheels, and we shall find the river on the opposite side with its waters banked up some six or eight feet higher, changed in character, looking more still and deep, reflecting the surrounding objects in a still, silent pool, shaded by lofty trees, its banks clothed with deep grass plantains, huge docks and marsh mallows, a spot where, on a sunny day, an irresistible inclination seizes one to lie down on the cool earth. The clinging foliage seems to second the invitation, and one throws oneself down upon this sweet verdant couch to "dream with one's eyes open," for who could close them in such an enchanting spot? But somehow or other, whether it is the "whirr" of the water-wheel, the fragrant scents of the plants we are crushing, or the peace surrounding one, time seems to glide away, and, upon consulting our watch, we discover the mysterious fact that the day has become two hours shorter! Of course we have not been to sleep!
Such village scenes and sensations are to be witnessed at Amersham, Cringleford, and many other spots in England which have still retained their old village surroundings.
(To be continued.)
