The Foundation of the Abbey. 



reached by going direct from Hythe, across Beaulieu Common. 

 The moor- stretches out on all sides, flushed in the summer 

 with purple heather, northward to the Forest, southward to 

 the cultivated fields round Leap and Exbury. Passing " The 

 Nodes,"* the road runs quite straight to Hill Top, with its 

 clump of firs, which we reached in the last chapter. 



Down in the valley, hid from us by a turn in the road, lies 

 Beaulieu. But a little farther on we reach part of the old 

 Abbey walls, broken here and there, clustered with ivy, and 

 grass, and yellow mullein, and white yarrow, whilst vine-clad 

 cottages stand against its sides. The village is situated on a 

 bend of the Exe, where, spanned by a bridge, the. stream falls 

 over the weir, formerly turning the old mill-wheel of the monks, 

 and then, broadening with the tide, winds through meadows 

 and thick oak copses down to the Solent. 



Although far more beautifully situated, the Abbey is not 

 nearly so well known as its own filial house at Netley, simply 

 because more out of the way. For a moment let us give some 

 account of its foundation, illustrating as it does both King 

 John's cruelty and superstition. The story, as told by the 

 monks, is that John, after various oppressions of the Cistercian 

 Order, in the year 1204, convened their abbots to his Parlia- 

 ment at Lincoln. As soon as they came, he ordered his 

 retainers to charge them on horseback. No one was found to 

 obey such a command. The monks fled to their lodgings. 

 That night the King dreamt he was led before a judge, who 

 ordered him to be scourged by these very monks. The next 

 morning John narrated his dream, which was so vivid that he 

 declared he felt the blows when he awoke, to a priest of his 



* For an account of the barrows on Beaulieu Heath, see ch. xvii. 



61 



