e memory of Ludlow, with its quaint, unsullied, old-world
air, its magnificent church, whose melodious chime of bells lingers with
us yet, its great ruined castle, redolent with romance, and its
surrounding country of unmatched interest and beauty, is still the
pleasantest of all. I know that the town has been little visited by
Americans, and that in Baedeker, that Holy Writ of tourists, it is
accorded a scant paragraph in small type. Nevertheless, our deliberately
formed opinion is still that if we could re-visit only one of the
English towns it would be Ludlow. Mr. A.G. Bradley, in his delightful
book, "In the March and Borderland of Wales," which everyone
contemplating a tour of Welsh border towns should read, gives an
appreciation of Ludlow which I am glad to reiterate when he styles it
"the most beautiful and distinguished country town in England." He says:
"There are towns of its size perhaps as quaint and boasting as many
ancient buildings, but they do not crown an eminence amid really
striking scenery, nor yet again share such distinction of type with one
of the finest mediaeval castles in England and one possessed of a
military and political history unique in the annals of British castles.
It is this combination of natural and architectural charm, with its
intense historical interest, that gives Ludlow such peculiar
fascination. Other great border fortresses were centers of military
activities from the Conquest to the Battle of Bosworth, but when Ludlow
laid aside its armour and burst out into graceful Tudor architecture, it
became in a sense the capital of fourteen counties, and remained so for
nearly two hundred years."

[Illustration: THE FEATHERS HOTEL, LUDLOW.]

We were indeed fortunate in Ludlow, for everything conspired to give us
the best appreciation of the town, and were it not for the opinion of
such an authority as I have quoted, I might have concluded that our
partiality was due to some extent to the circumstances. We had been
directed to a hotel by our host in Shrewsbury, but on inquiring of a
police officer--they are everywhere in Britain--on our arrival in
Ludlow, he did us a great favor by telling us that "The Feathers" hotel
just opposite would please us better. We forthwith drew up in front of
the finest old black and white building which we saw anywhere in the
Kingdom and were given a room whose diamond-paned windows opened toward
church and castle. No modern improvements broke in on our ol