isbury, eleven from Marlborough, nine from Westbury, seven from
Haylesbury, and five from the nearest railroad station, which is
called Bullhampton Road, and lies on the line from Salisbury to
Ycovil. It is not quite on Salisbury Plain, but probably was so once,
when Salisbury Plain was wider than it is now. Whether it should be
called a small town or a large village I cannot say. It has no mayor,
and no market, but it has a fair. There rages a feud in Bullhampton
touching this want of a market, as there are certain Bullhamptonites
who aver that the charter giving all rights of a market to
Bullhampton does exist; and that at one period in its history the
market existed also,--for a year or two; but the three bakers and
two butchers are opposed to change; and the patriots of the place,
though they declaim on the matter over their evening pipes and
gin-and-water, have not enough of matutinal zeal to carry out their
purpose. Bullhampton is situated on a little river, which meanders
through the chalky ground, and has a quiet, slow, dreamy prettiness
of its own. A mile above the town,--for we will call it a town,--the
stream divides itself into many streamlets, and there is a district
called the Water Meads, in which bridges are more frequent than
trustworthy, in which there are hundreds of little sluice-gates for
regulating the irrigation, and a growth of grass which is a source
of much anxiety and considerable trouble to the farmers. There is a
water-mill here, too, very low, with ever a floury, mealy look, with
a pasty look often, as the flour becomes damp with the spray of the
water as it is thrown by the mill-wheel. It seems to be a tattered,
shattered, ramshackle concern, but it has been in the same family
for many years; and as the family has not hitherto been in distress,
it may be supposed that the mill still affords a fair means of
livelihood. The Brattles,--for Jacob Brattle is the miller's
name,--have ever been known as men who paid their way, and were able
to hold up their heads. But nevertheless Jacob Brattle is ever at
war with his landlord in regard to repairs wanted for his mill,
and Mr. Gilmore, the landlord in question, declares that he wishes
that the Avon would some night run so high as to carry off the mill
altogether. Bullhampton is very quiet. There is no special trade
in the place. Its interests are altogether agricultural. It has
no newspaper. Its tendencies are altogether conservative. It is
a good