“The little white town of Bideford,” wrote Kingsley lovingly, “which slopes upward from its broad tide-river paved with yellow sands, and the many-arched old bridge where salmon wait for autumn floods.” He wrote a part of “Westward Ho!” in the drawing-room of the “Royal Hotel” at East-the-Water, looking across to Bideford quay and the little white town that so strongly inspired him; and the room is styled the “Kingsley Room” at this day. The older part of the house was once the residence of one of those old merchant princes who flourished at many a port, centuries ago, and, amassing wealth swiftly in their overseas ventures, built houses for themselves befitting their dignity. At King’s Lynn, at Poole, at Ipswich, and many another ancient port, the stately residences of those men, who risked much and often gained greatly, are still to be found; and often in the neighbouring churches you see their monuments in brass or marble, picturing them in furred robes and linen ruffs, piously upon their knees, with hands devotionally placed, just as though they never had dabbled in piracy and privateering, as undoubtedly they often did. The house that is now the “Royal” was built by one of these merchants in the year 1688. The noble oaken staircase and the elaborately decorated ceiling of the drawing-room survive to show us that he did not think the best obtainable too good for him. The moulded plaster ceiling, designed in festoons of fruit, flowers, and foliage in high relief, is one of the finest works of that local North Devon and Somerset school of decorative artists already referred to at length. The “Royal,” where Kingsley wrote, commands a view along the famous bridge of Bideford. Never, surely, was other bridge so praised, sung, and celebrated, in all manner of ways, as this bridge of Bideford. The bridge is Bideford, to all intents; and only the name of the town fails to reflect its glory. It has obstinately remained, in spite of that bridge, what it was before ever a bridge of any kind was thought possible to be built by hand of man--“By-the-Ford.” For that, we are told, was the original name of Bideford; or, in its full majesty, the real original name of the place was “Renton-by-the-Ford,” which many-jointed and inconvenient title has only by degrees arrived at what it is now. [Illustration: THE “KINGSLEY ROOM,” ROYAL HOTEL, BIDEFORD.] It was too late to change the name of the town when at last the bridge was set a-building, about 1350; or else, be sure of it--so proud has Bideford ever been of its bridge--the change would have been made.