The great bourdon bell in the tower solemnly proclaims the hour of 8 P. M., and we wend our way over the dike, skirting the narrow river, to get a moonlight view of the cathedral. How often we turn to look anew on that symmetrical tower and lofty spire, and how satisfying the gaze. We turn back again and admire the fields spread around us; we are delighted with the hills, and with the winding river, narrow and clear, whose banks we are treading. The little mill-village ahead lures us on; but the cathedral is more potent. We turn again and gaze, walk backwards and admire, till the little hamlet a half-mile away is reached. We walk over the trembling footbridge and along the rude milldam, and try to be entertained; but no, we must turn our footsteps, for in full view is the "all in all." So we walk back, and think and admire anew, till night comes over us, and we and the cathedral are draped with a common pall. Through the night, as the chimes broke the stillness, and the great bell set its heavy notes as milestones of time, we felt the greatness of our surroundings.
On Friday A. M., at nine o'clock, we took team at Salisbury for this place. Few spots in history are of more interest than this and its neighbor, Stonehenge,--the former two, and the latter a little less than nine miles from Salisbury. Sarum was an important settlement made by the early Britons, which afterwards became a Roman station, and the residence of the West Saxon kings. King Alfred fortified it, and in the eleventh century it was made a bishop's see. In 1217, however, Bishop Poore removed two miles away, and there established what is now Salisbury Cathedral, and so the city itself. As a matter of course, Sarum declined. The people followed the bishop, and what was once a place of note became almost extinct. Only one house remains on the grounds, but there are yet traces of the walls, cathedral, and castle. A more complete ruin is not to be found elsewhere in Great Britain, and a strange enchantment hovers about the scene.
The ride from Salisbury is very pleasant. From the level land on which the new city (though over 660 years old) stands we pass into a very undulating country, a quarter of which is covered with groups of shrubbery and trees. On the greenest of green grass, thousands of sheep and many cows are grazing, but no houses are in sight. A rare beauty exists everywhere, and many evidences of civilization. Salisbury is in our rear. Above all we see the cathedral tower and spire, distinct in outline, like a faithful sentinel standing there and guarding us.