We have taken these latter two churches because they lie within easy reach from Somersby, the main object of our excursion, and they add to its interest. We now turn homewards again, but by a different route. We might, from Somersby, have visited Salmonby, barely a mile away, where there is a restored church with some interesting features; and we might also have included a visit to Tetford, a large village or small town, equi-distant from Somersby, with a fairly large church, but in a very bad condition and much needing careful restoration. But these we are constrained to omit, as the day’s excursion is to be a short one. From Harrington, we turn south-west, and climb a hill of some mile in extent, to the pleasant village of Hagworthingham, where we find a model church, beautifully situated. It has been largely rebuilt, but retains some ancient features, which show that the structure was originally Early English. This style has been retained. The church has nave, chancel, south aisle, tower and south porch. The arcade is of four bays, with arches rising from low cylindrical piers, with moulded capitals, earlier than the arches which they support. These low arches give a kind of “dim religious light” to the fabric. The antiquarian, Gervase Holles, says {259} of this church: “On a gravestone of blue marble, in ye body of ye Church is pourtrayed in brasse one in compleat armour, bearing upon ye manches of his coate of armes on either side 2 crescents. Between his feet a right hand couped. The rest is defaced.” At the present time the whole of this is gone. The font has a plain octagonal basin, supported by a group of Early English shafts. The tower is low and square, its greenish sandstone being relieved by an intermixture of brick, and has a good peal of bells. The church is well cared for in every way, and its position perfect. Three-quarters of a mile south there is a very interesting church at Lusby, but, although some of its peculiar features would well repay a visit, it is slightly out of our beat, and we must draw the line somewhere. We have between four and five miles of steep hills and valleys between us and Horncastle, a route which cannot be hurried over, and we must push on. From Greetham Hill, on a clear day, we command a view across the Wash, into Norfolk, to our left, while to our right we again see towering up, 25 miles away, the mass of Lincoln Minster. The peculiar feature of this supplementary excursion is that it affords a revelation to those strangers to Lincolnshire who imagine the county to be flat as a billiard table. We have been truly travelling, as was said by a Dutch sportsman, 300 years ago (whom I have quoted in a previous chapter), in “Lincolniensi montium tractu” (“Fuller’s Worthies,” p. 150), “among the mountains of Lincolnshire.”