Still more singular a memorial of our fighting prowess is the Red Lion of Martlesham. The Red Lion, originally a ship’s figure-head, is now the sign of an inn at Martlesham, on the high road between Ipswich and Woodbridge, and is painted a most brilliant and aggressive red. Indeed, “As red as the Red Lion of Martlesham” is a proverbial expression throughout East Suffolk. The grotesque object is a relic of a British victory over the Dutch in Sole Bay. It was brought inland as a trophy of our success, and was ultimately converted to its present use--that of an inn sign. [Illustration: THE RED LION, OF MARTLESHAM, WHICH HAS GIVEN RISE TO A SUFFOLK PROVERB. _From a Photograph._] One of the best-known memorials of battles fought on English soil--the obelisk at Naseby--is a “freak,” and a strange one, too. Its distinction lies in the fact that it has misled thousands, including Carlyle and Dr. Arnold. “To commemorate,” so runs the inscription, “that great and decisive battle fought in this field on the XIV day of June, MDCXLV, between the Royalist Army, commanded by King Charles the First, and the Parliament Forces, headed by the Generals Fairfax and Cromwell ... this pillar was erected by John and Mary Frances Fitzgerald, Lord and Lady of the Manor of Naseby.” But nothing is more certain than that the battle was not fought in “this field.” It actually took place on Broadmoor, about a mile away. Appropriately, therefore, did Liston call the obelisk the “obstacle.” Edward Fitzgerald was conscious of this strange blunder, to which he refers in one of his letters (the monument, he says, “planted by my papa on the wrong site”), and which he proposed to remedy by removing the obelisk to the real battlefield. The scheme, however, was not carried out, presumably on the score of expense. [Illustration: A MONUMENT IN THE WRONG PLACE--THE NASEBY MEMORIAL, WHICH DOES NOT STAND UPON THE BATTLEFIELD AT ALL. _From a Photograph._] Besides the Round House, Finedon possesses a representative of a large class of “freak” memorials--those which bear no inscription, and the object of which is consequently doubtful. These differ from the many strange things which serve as memorials without being plainly stamped as such. In Lancaster, for instance, a large horse-shoe is embedded in the middle of the roadway, and there is nothing to inform the stranger of its intent. It is actually there owing to a tradition that a horse ridden by John o’ Gaunt, the town’s patron saint, cast a shoe near the spot. The silent reminder of the incident--which, of course, has been renewed many times--was some years ago polished every morning. An eccentric man turned up with the utmost regularity, went down on his knees, and made it as bright as the proverbial new pin. Unfortunately his zeal was not admired by the authorities, who ultimately prosecuted him for obstructing the traffic.