Near this point, a little to the left, on a hill, a Roman pavement was discovered some years ago. It was a fine specimen, adorned with the heads of Medusa, Venus, Neptune, Mercury, and Mars. A house was built over it for its protection, but was not kept in repair, the rain came in, the mice and the tourists arrived, and when I saw it there was little left; what there is has now been earthed up. Thus what had lasted nearly two thousand years was destroyed shortly after it was found. From Itchen Abbas station I made my way to the Plough Inn--a little distance in front towards Easton--and passed over the river fringed with its “long purples.” Then I entered Avington Park, through a wood of lofty trees, and obtained, across a sheet of water, a view of the house. This mansion stands on the site of one of old renown, which belonged to the princely Brydges, Dukes of Chandos; and where the “Merry Monarch,” when sojourning at Winchester, often came and held high carnival. It was graced or disgraced by a lady of note; for the first Brydges, being a man of courage, married that Countess of Shrewsbury, who, disguised as a page, held a horse for Buckingham while he killed her husband in a duel. The last Duke of Chandos built the present house, and also the brick church--to which we soon came--in memory of his wife. Their daughter, a descendant of Mary Tudor, Henry VIII.’s sister, became Duchess of Buckingham, and her son sold this property to Mr. Shelley, the present owner’s father. Nearly opposite the church is a handsome sarcophagus to the late Mr. Shelley. The plantations around the domain are magnificent, the avenue being two miles in length. After leaving the church I came to a baker’s shop, and saw a pretty person standing in the doorway with “_Goodchild_” inscribed in large letters over her. This seemed promising, so I asked her if she could tell me where to find St. Augustine’s Oak. “Oh, you mean the Gospel oak?”[109] she replied. “You must go through the wicket-gate a few yards above this, and keep along the line of the fence for about a mile. None of the children here know it. I doubt whether any of the villagers do. I am sorry I cannot accompany you, but I am engaged.”