ill visible. A stone
cross in the turf marks the site of the high altar.

_Cleeve, Old_, village half way between Washford Station and Blue
Anchor, 5 m. from Minehead. From the Minehead road the church tower
will be seen picturesquely protruding above the trees. The village has
nothing to recommend it but its rural seclusion. The church has a fair
Perp. W. tower, in which the usual string course is replaced by a band
of quatrefoils. Within, it contains by N. wall under an ogee canopy an
effigy in lay costume (cp. Norton St Philip), with a cat at its
feet--perhaps some local Dick Whittington. Note also (1) foliated
squint; (2) good Perp. font. In the porch are some rough oak benches.
The churchyard contains the base and shaft of a cross, and the remains
of another cross will be passed on the road to Washford. Between here
and Blue Anchor is an ancient lady chapel, once a shrine of
considerable local repute.

[Illustration: CLEVEDON]

CLEVEDON, a watering-place 12 m. W. of Bristol, reached by a line from
Yatton. A light railway thrown across the intervening mud flats
connects it directly with Weston. The population in 1901 was 5898. Like
Weston, Clevedon is the outcome of the modern craze for health resorts.
It is now a fashionable collection of comfortable villas, profusely
disposed over the W. and N. slopes of a range of hills which run with
the channel on its way to Bristol. Though approached on the E. by miles
of uninviting marshes, the situation of the town is pleasant and
picturesque. Clevedon offers several points of contrast with its
enterprising rival and neighbour. Besides other things it retains some
remnants of ruder days. A humble row of cottages to the L. of the
station, and an ancient church dumped down in a hollow of the W.
headland, preserve the savour of a former simplicity. To one of these
"pretty cots" Coleridge is said to have brought his bride in 1795. The
reputed house still stands in Old Church Road, but the identification
is now questioned. Along the sea-front there is a pleasant little
promenade, flanked with turf and shrubs. The shore is rocky, and though
the ebb tide uncovers a considerable stretch of mud in the bay, along
the road to Walton the sea is never far away, even at low water. There
is nothing romantically bold about the coast scenery, but it is
pervaded by an air of quiet retirement much in keeping with its
literary associations. The esplanade leads at one end to a pleasant
walk