mellow cleanly look of the country town unspoilt by any taint of
modern industrialism, but of actual antiquity there is none. This is
due to the great fire that raged in 1762 and to all intents and
purposes wiped the town out. During the Great War the narrow pavements
were thronged with khaki. A great military encampment extended
westwards along the north side of the Dorchester road for a
considerable distance, and, judging from present appearances, part of
this wooden suburb of Wareham appears of a permanent character.

The road over the old and picturesque Frome bridge passes at once into
the so-called Isle of Purbeck and gradually rises toward the hills
that cut across the "island." The views ahead, which include the
striking conical peak called "Creech Barrow," are of increasing
beauty, and when we approach the break between the long range of
Knowle Hill and Branscombe Hill, the strikingly fine picture of Corfe
Castle filling the gap makes an unforgettable scene. Just before
reaching the hillock upon which the castle stands, and three and a
half miles from Wareham, a road turns left, crossing the railway, and
winds by the northern face of Nine Barrows Down to Studland.

[Illustration: THE FROME AT WAREHAM.]

The original name for Corfe was Corvesgate, or the cutting in the
hills. This is its usual alias in the Wessex novels. The position was
so obviously suited for a sentry post that it was probably entrenched
in prehistoric times. Two small streams, the Byle brook and the
Steeple brook, run northwards on each side of the mount, uniting just
below it to form the Corve River. At first sight the mound appears to
be artificial, so velvety smooth and regular are its green sides in
contrast with the pile of ruin on its crown.