A CURIOUS CUSTOM.

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English, or he might have thought I was trying to make fun of him and that he would pay me back in my own coin with interest added.

Respecting Witham, we learnt of a curious custom that still prevails there. According to the 'Essex Directory,' which useful work we found in the sitting-room of our inn, All property within this manor is subject to a fine of one year's value upon the death of the owner or a transfer of the property, to be paid by the successor or purchaser. If, however, the person taking the property were born within the manor, or be already a tenant of it, no such fine is payable. This custom is peculiar, and there are but few instances in which it prevails.'

CHAPTER IV.

An Ancient Hall-Fine Cedars-A terra incognita-Country Lanes and By-ways-A quaint little Church and its History-Puzzling Inscriptions-Curious Names-Tiptree Heath-A Tradition of Dick Turpin-Layer Marney Tower-A Grand Building-A Sixteenth-century Mansion-Friends on the Road-A Notable Structure-A Fine Prospect of River, Land, and Sea.

A VERY pleasant walk through a picturesque pastoral country of green meadows, sparkling streams, and leafy woods, that made the two miles seem like one, took us to Faulkbourne Hall. We found the old mansion (which we reached by a shady avenue through a well-timbered park) to be all that our informant said it was-and more. This romantic home of the olden days, whose ivy-covered, timestained walls are eloquent of the past, is a picture rather than a place, with its many towers, turrets, gables, mullioned windows, and clustering stacks of chimneys. What a beautiful poem is to commonplace prose, so is Faulkbourne to an ordinary building. It is a house to be seen, not described; for its ancient charm, its old-world picturesqueness, and, above all, the sense of a past presence that seems to brood incumbent over its aged walls, are not to be given in prosaic print. The curious tower gateway here is said to have been erected by the Earl of Gloucester in the reign of King Stephen (1135),

and there is nothing in its appearance to prove otherwise.

A grand old home is Faulkbourne, one after our own romantic imagining-a realised ideal-and we envied the owner its possession. Every whit as picturesque as tourist-haunted Haddon, but never having had the glamour of great deed or thrilling love story thrown over it, it has not gained the wider fame, and is, therefore, unknown to the tourist and unsought by him, doubtless much to the possessor's peaceful enjoyment of his own. We found no mention of this interesting old house in our guide-book after most diligent search therein, but knowing the various vagaries of these productions this fact did not much astonish us; indeed, had we really discovered a place so remote from the ordinary beaten paths of travel described there, we should certainly have been somewhat surprised.

On reaching the hall we made bold to ring the bell at the entrance gateway. (One could not use the term 'front-door' in speaking of such a placeit would take all the poetry at once away; though, as a stern matter of fact, I believe it was such a door that we went to.) We rung on the slender hope that perchance we might be permitted to view the interior. It was the housekeeper who answered our summons, and, upon making known our desire, very politely, yet very positively, refused us, stating that no stranger was allowed admission. Her manner showed that she was much puzzled at our even dreaming to ask such an unheard-of thing, which proved to us plainer than anything else that

we had at last discovered a favoured land where the genus tripper has not yet appeared.

Near to Faulkbourne Hall in the grounds are some remarkably fine cedars, alone worth a long journey to see. One of these trees, I think I may safely say, is amongst the largest, if it is not itself actually the largest in the kingdom. When we were there it measured twenty-five feet in circumference at about a foot from the ground. How old it is, who can say ?

Returning to Witham we ordered the horses to, and were soon again on our way. Having been told by an antiquarian friend that there was a remarkably fine old tower-house at Layer Marney, a scattered hamlet in an almost terra incognita between Witham and Colchester, we looked up the name of the place on our map, and endeavoured to make out our route thither, which, however, we were not very successful in doing, for the Essex crosscountry by-ways are almost as puzzling as Hampton Court maze, so we determined to take our course by the compass, selecting those roads that appeared most likely to lead in the direction we desired, trusting to arrive some time during the day at Layer Marney.

It was pleasant on that hot summer day to exchange the dusty highway for the tree-shaded and grass-bordered country lanes, narrow though they were and given to wind about in a most perplexing and annoying manner. Writing of country by-ways, I wonder why it is that Devonshire is so famed above all other parts for the length, narrowness, and

ESSEX LANES.

endless twistings and turnings of its lanes. There are other counties with lanes quite as narrow, as winding, and as long. I almost think that in this matter Essex can hold her own with ease, and I feel as sure as I am of anything that some of the Sussex by-ways could do even more could give the Devonshire lanes long odds and a beating; and I ought to know, for I have both walked and driven. over the greater portion of both counties.

Passing by an old mill close to a cool stilly sheet. of water, whose picturesque water-wheel has, alas! given way to the hidden turbine, we presently came to Little Braxted Church, said to be one of the smallest places of worship in Essex, its total length from east to west being barely forty-five feet; and when from this the chancel is taken away and the space at the other end where baulks of timber spring up in a strange manner from the floor to the roof to support the tiny bell turret, there is not room left for a large congregation, as may be imagined.

Little Braxted Church is a very ancient and an exceedingly quaint Norman building. It is chiefly constructed of stone rubble, and has a rounded chancel (apsidal is, I believe, the correct architectural term); both chancel and nave are under one roof. One of the original Norman windows is curiously small and deeply set, being only a few inches wide, but the chief interest of this ancient edifice lies in its interior. Upon entering the church one is struck by the richness of the decorated walls, every inch of which is painted with frescoes, scrollwork, or other ornamentation, and along the beams

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