We had arriv'd at Blackwater, a small place where we took Ayre by an Inné and, having need to Shit, I used the House of Office. Here it was agreed that we would Stick for the Night: Sir Chris, was all for going on, but he saw that the Journey had brought on me a small Feaver (since I sweat when I am away from home). Time is pressing, says he, but Nature presses on you more. He laughed then, and was inexpressibly merry after with the Travellers at Supper. When we climbed up to our Chamber at last, I very weary, he scanned the Observations and Rules for Guests affix'd to the Walclass="underline" Remember ye, says he intoning the Words as if they were meer Foolishness, that ye are in this world as in an Inné to tarry for a short space and then to be gone hence. At night when you come to your Inné thanke God for your Preservation: next morning pray for a good Journey. We must be on our knees then, Nick, he goes on, but I fear more from the Lice in these Beds than from the Roads. Then you must pray to the God of Lice, I replied, and hurried down to the Yard to vomit up my Meal.
On the next Day we passed thro' Hartley Row, eventually descending to Basingstoke, and it was when we had reached Church-Oakly that Sir Chris, desired to set up a Magneticall Experiment in the Coach. The other Travellers being willing to observe his Art, they tucked their Shooes up beneath them to give him more Room upon the Floor; he took out the sphericall Compass from his Cloack-bag and produc'd like a Conjuror a peece of Plane Board. The Magnet was half immersed in the Board, till it was like a Globe with the Poles in the Horizon, and he was about to bring on his steel-filings (the others looking on Transfix'd) when of a sudden there was a terrific Quake: going fast over a Bridge close to Whitchurch, the Driver had turned short and two of the Horses were over the Bridge; only the wheel horse hanging dead was able to keep the Coach from going over, as I lay tumbled on the Floor with my Fellows. Sir Chris., trying his Agility to get out of the window, was like to have jumped into the River as I watched but instead he dropp'd into the Dust. I thought it to be a terrible Fall, but he stood up with a good grace and looked puzzled at the Ground: then he seemed to have a need to Make Water and unbutton'd his Breeches in sight of us. One by one we escap'd through the same Window, and then were forced to sit in the Cold till a Team of Horses could be sent from Whitchurch to pull the Coach away from the Bridge; that night we stopp'd at a wretched Inn where we were smirked at by the Hostess. You could not have Prayed last night, said I, as the Observations recommended. No, he replied, and I have lost my Compass as a Penance for it.
The latter part of our Journey from the entrance of Wiltshire into Salisbury was very rough and abounded with Jolts, the Holes we were obliged to go through being very many and some of them Deep; and so it was with much Relief that we left the Coach at Salisbury and hired two Horses for the road across the Avon to the Plain and Stonehenge.
When we came to the edge of this sacred Place, we tethered our Horses to the Posts provided and then, with the Sunne direct above us, walked over the short grass which (continually cropt by the flocks of Sheep) seemed to spring us forward to the great Stones. I stood back a little as Sir Chris, walked on, and I considered the Edifice with steadinesse: there was nothing here to break the Angles of Sight and as I gaz'd I opened my Mouth to cry out but my Cry was silent; I was struck by an exstatic Reverie in which all the surface of this Place seemed to me Stone, and the Sky itself Stone, and I became Stone as I joined the Earth which flew on like a Stone through the Firmament.
And thus I stood until the Kaw of a Crow rous'd me: and yet even the call of the black Bird was an Occasion for Terrour, since it was not of this Time. I know not how long a Period I had traversed in my Mind, but Sir Chris, was still within my Sight when my Eyes were clear'd of Mist. He was walking steadily towards the massie Structure and I rushed violently to catch him, for I greatly wished to enter the Circle before him. I stopped him with a Cry and then ran on: when Crows kaw more than ordinary, said I when I came up to him all out of Breath, we may expect Rain. Pish, he replied. He stopped to tye his Shooe, so then I flew ahead of him and first reached the Circle which was the Place of Sacrifice. And I bowed down.
Master Jones says it is erected on the Cubit measure, says Sir Chris. coming after me and taking out his Pocket-Book, and do you see, Nick, its beautifull Proportions?
It is a huge and monstrous Work, I answered standing straight, and it has been called the Architecture of the Devil.
But he paid no heed to me: They must have used tall trees for Levers, he continu'd squinting up at the Stones, or they discover'd the art of ordering Engines for the raising of Weights.
Some said Merlyn was the Father, I replied, and raised these Stones by the hidden Mysteries of Magick.
Sir Chris, laughed at this and sat upon the Stone in the inner Circle.
There is an old rhyme, Nick, says he, which goes thus: This Fame saies, Merlyn to perfection brought But Fame said more than ever Merlyn wrought.
And he lean'd forward with a Smile.
You are sitting on the Altar Stone, I said; and he jumped up quickly like one bitten. Do you see, I continu'd, how it is of a harder Stone and designed to resist Fire?
I see no Scorch marks, he replied: but then he wandred among the other Stones as I recall'd another merry Verse: Will you wake him?
No, not I,
For if I do
He's sure to Cry.
When we were not close about each other I could talk freely again: For these are all places of Sacrifice, I call'A out, and these Stones are the Image of God raised in Terrour!
And Sir Chris, replied in a loud Voice: The Mind of Man is naturally subject to Apprehensions!
Upon this I told him that Peter della Valle, in his late Travels to the Indies, writes that at Ahmedabad there is a famous Temple wherein there is no other Image but a little column of Stone -named Mahadeu which in their language signifies the Great God. And that there are such structures in Africa, being Temples dedicated to Moloch. Even the Egyptian name Obelisk, I said, means consecrated Stone.
And he answer'à: Ah Master Dyer, as the Prophets say, the old Men shall dream Dreames and the young Men shall see Visions and you are young still.
The skie was getting wonderful Dark with a strong Winde which swirled around the Edifice: Do you see, I said, how the Architraves are so strangely set upon the heads of the Upright stones that they seem to hang in the Air? But the winde took my words away from him as he crouched with his Rule and Crayon. Geometry, he called out, is the Key to this Majesty: if the Proportions are right, I calculate that the inner part is an Exagonall Figure raised upon the Bases of four Equilateral!
Triangles! I went up to him saying, Some believe they are Men metamorphosised into Stone, but he payed no Heed to me and stood with his Head flung back as he continu'd: And you see, Nick, there is an Exactness of Placing them in regard to the Heavens, for they are so arranged as to estimate the positions of the Planets and the fixed Starres. From which I believe they had magneticall compass Boxes.
Then the Rain fell in great Drops, and we sheltered beneath the Lintel of one great Stone as it turned from gray to blew and green with the Moisture. And when I lean'd my Back against that Stone I felt in the Fabrick the Labour and Agonie of those who erected it, the power of Him who enthrall'd them, and the marks of Eternity which had been placed there. I could hear the Cryes and Voices of those long since gone but I shut my Ears to them and, to keep away Phrensy, stared at the Moss which grew over the Stone. Consider this, I told Sir Chris., the Memphitic pyramid has stood about three thousand and two hundred years, which is not as long as this Edifice: but it was twenty years in building, with three hundred and sixty thousand men continually working upon it. How many laboured here, and for how long? And then I went on after a Pause: the Base of the pyramidde is the exact size and shape of Lincolns-Inn-Fields, and I have some times in my Mind's Eye a Pyrammide rising above the stinking Streets of London. The sky had cleared as I spoke, the clowds rowled away, and as the Sun struck the Ground I looked towards Sir Chris. But he seemed altered in Feature: he had heard nothing of my Matter but sat leaning his Head back upon the Stone, pale as a Cloth and disconsolate to a strange Degree. I lay no Stress upon the Thing called a Dream, he said, but I just now had a Vision of my Son dead.