rom paying visits
to one another by floods, as they lived on opposite sides of the Ouse.
They accordingly built the long bridge in continuation of an older
one, of which only a small portion remains at the north end. Sir
Robert found the material and Mr. Lowndes the labour. This story
reminds one of a certain road in Berks and Bucks, the milestones along
which record the distance between Hatfield and Bath? Why Hatfield? It
is not a place of great resort or an important centre of population.
But when we gather that a certain Marquis of Salisbury was troubled
with gout, and had frequently to resort to Bath for the "cure," and
constructed the road for his special convenience at his own expense,
we begin to understand the cause of the carving of Hatfield on the
milestones.

[Illustration: Watch House On The Bridge Bradford on Avon Wilts. 8 Oct
1908]

The study of the bridges of England seems to have been somewhat
neglected by antiquaries. You will often find some good account of a
town or village in guide-books or topographical works, but the story
of the bridges is passed over in silence. Owing to the reasons we have
already stated, old bridges are fast disappearing and are being
substituted by the hideous erections of iron and steel. It is well
that we should attempt to record those that are left, photograph them
and paint them, ere the march of modern progress, evinced by the
traction-engine and the motor-car, has quite removed and destroyed
them.

CHAPTER XV

OLD HOSPITALS AND ALMSHOUSES

There are in many towns and villages hospitals--not the large modern
and usually unsightly buildings wherein the sick are cured, with wards
all spick and span and up to date--but beautiful old buildings
mellowed with age wherein men and women, on whom the snows of life
have begun to fall thickly, may rest and recruit and take their ease
before they start on the long, dark journey from which no traveller
returns to tell to those he left behind how he fared.

Almshouses we usually call them now, but our forefathers preferred to
call them hospitals, God's hostels, "God huis," as the Germans call
their beautiful house of pity at Luebeck, where the tired-out and
money-less folk might find harbourage. The older hospitals were often
called "bede-houses," because the inmates were bound to pray for their
founder and benefactors. Some medieval hospitals, memorials of the
charity of pre-Reformation Englishmen, remain, but many we