Pulborough on Stane Street was once a Roman station. Relics of the occupation are constantly turning up in the neighbourhood. Near the church is a mound, on which stood the “castellum.” A glance at the map will show the commanding position the station held over the meeting of the Arun and Rother. There are traces of a Roman villa at Borough Hill north-east of the village.

The fine church is mostly Perpendicular, though there are Early English portions. Note the archaic Norman font and several interesting brasses, especially that of Thomas Harlyng, Canon of Chichester and rector here in 1420; also the restored sedilia and beautiful modern reredos.

Not far from the church are the remains of the ancient “Old Place” once belonging to the Apsleys; the neighbouring barn is even older than the house; “New Place,” a little farther north, is another picturesque house with a fine hall.

Pulborough is, with Amberley, a Mecca for weekend anglers; it has a famous inn, the “Swan,” and is a good halting place before proceeding westwards, in which direction our road now runs. A mile out of the town we take final leave of the Arun at Stopham Bridge, a fine medieval structure of many arches. The Rother joins the larger river just below the bridge and between the two streams may be seen Stopham House, the home of the Bartelotts, seneschals of the Earls of Arundel; their monuments and brasses for several centuries are in the church, an ancient building among trees some distance from the bridge.

We now approach Fittleworth, another favourite place for anglers, whose rendezvous must be looked for nearly a mile away near the bridge and station. The Early English church, unrestored and interesting, has in the vestry a curious stone coffin lid with a Greek cross upon it. The famous “Swan” Inn is a well-known feature of the little town and a great resort for artists, who find endless subjects in the beautiful district we are now traversing.

Egdean has a church dating from the early seventeenth century. About fifty or more years ago it was “restored” in a way which even among restorers must be unique, “Early English” details being imposed upon the original work. Byworth is picturesque, as Miss Vigers sketch will show; but, apart from its situation, it calls for no other comment.

The scenery around Petworth is characteristic of the Lower Greensand country and the picturesque wooded outcrop north-east of Byworth is perhaps as beautiful as any other part of this distinctive belt. In no part of this miniature range, about three miles long, is the altitude over 450 feet, but the charm of the woodland dells and meandering tracks which cross and traverse the heights between the “Fox” on the north-west and the Arun at Hardswood Green, is quite as great as in localities of more strongly marked features and greater renown.

The road trends north-west by Egdean and Byworth to Petworth. Petworth town consists of a number of old-world streets extremely crooked, narrow, and picturesque. Seen from any near point the grouping of roofs is as artistically good as any in Sussex. Petworth Church has been practically rebuilt. The north chantry contains the tombs of some of the Percy family, including that of the ninth Earl, who was imprisoned in the Tower on suspicion of being concerned in the Gunpowder Plot. Here is also the monument to Lord Egremont (1840), a fine seated figure. Notice several interesting brasses and a sixteenth century tomb of the Dawtreys. Near the church is an old house belonging to this family. One of the rectors of Petworth was Francis Cheynell, the antagonist of Chillingworth. Just below the church is the Somerset Hospital, eighteenth century almshouses founded by a Duke of Somerset. In North Street is Thompson’s Hospital, another picturesque group. In the centre of the town stands the Market House built by the Earl of Egremont. In its front is a bust of “William the Deliverer.”

Petworth is another instance of feudal foundation. The manor, at present owned by Lord Leconfield, was for centuries in the possession of the Percy family. The house is said to have the finest private collection of pictures in the kingdom, most of which are due to the collecting zeal of the third Earl of Egremont; they are usually shown on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and visitors are handed a list of the paintings by the guides. The hurried round of the pictures takes about an hour. A wide range of schools are represented, but the most interesting is perhaps the splendid show of Turners.

The present mansion is one of the ugliest in the county and replaced in 1730 a beautiful medieval pile; the latter had been the scene of some historic visits, notably that of Edward VI, and in 1703 Charles III of Spain, who was met by Prince Consort George of Denmark. The Prince Regent with the Allied Rulers visited the Earl of Egremont in 1814. Three interesting relics shown are a piece of needlework made by Lady Jane Grey, the sword of Hotspur used at the battle of Shrewsbury, and an illuminated Chaucer MS. The chapel is the only portion of the old building remaining.

Petworth Park is quite free and open to the pedestrian. The entrance is in the Tillington road. Although of an entirely different character from the scenery we have already passed through, partaking more of the nature of an East Midland demesne, especially in the lower, or south end, the magnificent stretches of sward interspersed with noble groups of native trees will amply repay the visit. For those who have time to extend the ramble to the Prospect Tower in the northern portion of the park there is a magnificent view in store, especially south and west. Herds of deer roam the glades and there are two fine sheets of water.

The author of Rural Rides thus describes Petworth: “The park is very fine and consists of a parcel of those hills and dells which nature formed here when she was in one of her most sportive moods. I have never seen the earth flung about in such a wild way as round about Hindhead and Blackdown, and this park forms a part of this ground. From an elevated part of it, and, indeed, from each of many parts of it, you see all around the country to the distance of many miles. From the south-east to the north-west the hills are so lofty and so near that they cut the view rather short; but for the rest of the circle you can see to a very great distance. It is, upon the whole, a most magnificent seat, and the Jews will not be able to get it from the present owner, though if he live many years they will give even him a twist.”

The road now goes directly west and in a mile reaches Tillington, which has a Transitional church modernized and practically rebuilt by the Earl of Egremont; here are several interesting tombs and brasses. A divergence two miles further will take us downhill across the Rother to Selham (with a station close to the village). The Norman and Early English church has a chancel arch with finely carved and ornamented capitals. Proceeding westwards between high banks of red sandstone our road soon approaches Cowdray Park, across which it runs without hedge or fence.

The park is a beautiful pleasaunce for the inhabitants of Midhurst; thickly carpeted with bracken and heather and broken by many picturesque knolls and hollows. The famous burned and ruined mansion lies on the west, close to the town and river. This beautiful old house was destroyed in 1793 through the carelessness of some workmen employed in repairing the woodwork of some of the upper rooms. Within a month of the calamity the last of the Montagues, a young man of 22, was drowned while shooting the falls of the Rhine at Schaffhausen. These tragic happenings were supposed to fulfil a curse of the last monk of Battle pronounced against Sir Anthony Browne when he took possession of the Abbey. “Thy line shall end by fire and water and utterly perish.”

The following is a contemporary account of the tragedy: “Lord Montague was engaged to the eldest daughter of Mr. Coutts (the present Countess of Guildford) and, with a view to his marriage on his return to England, the mansion house had been for several months undergoing a complete repair and fitting up. The whole was completed on the day preceding the night on which it was consumed, and the steward had been employed during the afternoon in writing the noble owner an account of its completion. This letter reached his hands. On the following day the steward wrote another letter announcing its destruction: but in his hurry of spirits, he directed it to Lausanne instead of Lucerne, by which accident it was two days longer in its passage to his lordship’s place of abode than it otherwise would have been. Had it not been for that fatal delay, in all human probability this noble family would not have had to deplore the double misfortune by which its name and honours have become extinguished; for the letter arrived at his lordship’s lodging on the morning of his death, about an hour after he had left them, and, as nearly as can be computed at the very moment in which he was overwhelmed by the torrent of the Rhine.”

The turreted entrance gateway is less ruinous than the remainder of the buildings and, with the banqueting hall, is as fine a specimen of early sixteenth-century architecture as will be found in England. Notice the vaulted entrance to the Hall. On the north side, looking towards the Guard House is the State Bedchamber, wherein Queen Elizabeth slept in 1591. There are several contemporary accounts of the stately merrymakings which took place during the visit, including the “hunting” scene in which buck deer were guided past Gloriana’s bower, from which she made dead shots at them, reminding one of the “bulls-eyes” with which a later Queen opened the national shooting competition for her worshipping subjects.

On St. Ann’s Hill near the town may be traced the outlines of the stronghold erected by the de Bohuns; the town and surrounding country remained in their hands until Sir David Owen, uncle of Henry VII, married the last of the line. Sir David sold the estate to the Earl of Southampton, whose son left it to his half brother Sir Anthony Browne, Standard Bearer of England; his son became the first Viscount Montague.

The estate is now held by Lord Cowdray, who has a modern mansion, built in a flamboyant Elizabethan style, near-by.

Midhurst is a pleasant old place with some good ancient houses here and there. Those in the centre which form the subject of Miss Vigers’ sketch, are being demolished as this is written; their disappearance will be appreciated by motorists in a hurry but by no one else. The Perpendicular church has been largely rebuilt during the last century and the Montague Chantry lacks its tomb, which has been removed to Easebourne. Richard Cobden was educated in the Grammar School (founded in 1572). During the last few years Midhurst has become to some extent a resort for Londoners who appreciate a quiet country town amid beautiful surroundings which may be explored easily. The walks, not only to the Downs on the south but northwards to the lovely and remote hills which culminate in Blackdown, are among the best in West Sussex. South, west, and east the town is well served by the Brighton and South-Western Railways, a single line in each direction.

The road to Henley is one of the loneliest as it is one of the loveliest in south-west Sussex. The writer has tramped the long miles to Henley (uphill all the way) without meeting a single pedestrian. Even the advent of the great Sanatorium on the southern slopes of Bexley Hill does not seem to have made any difference. Possibly visitors use the public motor which runs between Midhurst and Haslemere. By so doing they miss one of the finest woodland walks in the south, indescribably beautiful in the scarlet and gold of late autumn.

The traveller in Downland is advised for once to turn his back on the hills and walk as far as the summit of the Haslemere road where the new route turns sharp round to the left and hugs the escarpment of Bexley Hill. In front will be seen an overgrown track, the old highway, plunging down the face of the hill. A few feet down this causeway, paved with large slabs of stone, brings us to a surprising hamlet clinging to the hillside and, with its “Duke of Cumberland” Inn, looking across the wide Fernhurst vale to where Blackdown lords it on the other side.

At Easebourne, about a mile north-east of Midhurst, is a Benedictine Priory used, until quite lately, as a farmhouse. It is close to the church, which, with the buildings of the nunnery, form three sides of a hollow square. The restoration has been carried out with taste and care and the whole is worth seeing. The nuns of Easebourne would seem to have been “difficult females,” for a Bishop of Chichester in 1441 was obliged to call the Prioress to order for wearing sumptuous clothes with fur trimmings and for using too many horses when travelling, the penance being a restriction to four. The nuns were spoken of by a contemporary writer as “wild females of high family put at Easebourne to keep them quiet.”

The church, besides the tomb of the first Viscount Montague, removed from Midhurst, contains a figure of Sir David Owen (1540); also a Transitional font.