LIBRARY 
 
 OJWVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE
 
 
 
 IN THE VERDANT WEST.
 
 JJ\I THE 
 VERDANT WEST. 
 
 CHAS. A. M? PRESS, 
 
 JOURNALIST AND AUTHOR. 
 
 LONDON : 
 SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT & Co., LTD. 
 
 BRIDGWATER : 
 JOHN WHITBY & SONS, CORNHILL. 
 
 1890.
 
 V-] 
 
 PRINTED BY 
 
 JOHN WHITBY AND SONS, 
 BRIDGWATER.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 is to be feared that there is only too much 
 truth in the assertion that Englishmen 
 know comparatively little of their own country ; 
 and again and again is the unpleasant fact 
 demonstrated, that those advantages and benefits 
 which are the nearest at hand are by the 
 majority of us the most neglected. 
 
 Abounding as the West of England does, in 
 rich scenery, and notable and picturesque places, 
 yet only a comparatively few people have visited 
 them and revelled in the unique delights they 
 offer. Even to very many persons ac/tmlly 
 living in the \ Vest not a few of the sylvan scenes 
 and romantic spots surrounding them are un- 
 known. 
 
 The object therefore aimed at in the publishing 
 of this volume has been an attempt to do some- 
 thing towards leading the public to make
 
 vi PREFACE. 
 
 themselves better acquainted with the beautiful 
 scenery so characteristic of the West by the 
 depicting of SOME portions of it in original, and, 
 what I hope will be found to be, bright and racy 
 descriptive sketches. Stress is laid on the word 
 "some" for the particular reason that had ALL 
 the lovely spots of the West been described it 
 would have necessitated the publication of more 
 than one volume. 
 
 1 have simply described those scenes and places 
 which I have myself visited, and which have 
 impressed me as being well worthy of mention 
 in a work of this kind, and which, further- 
 more, I believe, will give a very fair idea of 
 the scenic charms of the West Country. The 
 sketch "From Exeter to Newton, Abbott, Across 
 the Haldon Hills," is from the gifted pen of 
 Mr. Sydney II. "Jarvis, a friend, who accom- 
 panied me on several of the rambles described in 
 this book. 
 
 CHAS. A. M. PRESS.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 ON THE QUANTOCKS ... ... ... I 
 
 GLASTONBURY AND WELLS ... ... 14 
 
 BRENT KNOLL ... ... ... ... 39 
 
 CHEDDAR ... ... ... ... 46 
 
 FROM EXETER TO NEWTON ABBOTT, OVER 
 
 THE GREAT HALDON HILLS ... ... 64 
 
 ACROSS DARTMOOR ... ... ... 73 
 
 DUNSTER AND MlNEHEAD ... ... ... 84 
 
 LYMTON AND LYNMOUTH ... ... 95 
 
 PORLOCK TO UULVERTON ... ... ... 105 
 
 BlDEFORD AND CLOVELLY ... ... 113 
 
 GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS OF WEST 
 
 COUNTRY SCENERY ... ... ... 134
 
 ON THE QUANTOCKS. 
 
 VISIT to the Quantocks is well 
 worth making. They may be 
 reached, and a good walk over 
 them enjoyed, by leaving Bridg- 
 water for Dodington or Holford, 
 and then starting from Danesborough Height 
 and following the track to Triscombe Stone, 
 Crowcombe, Quantock Farm, Stowey, and 
 Spaxton, where the high road will lead you 
 safely home. Before starting on the walk 
 over the Quantocks there are several inter- 
 esting spots in the vicinity of Dodington 
 and Holford that should be visited. For 
 instance, there are Dodington Woods, Hol- 
 ford Glen, and the famous Beeches on the 
 hill at Alfoxton, where WORDSWORTH and 
 COLERIDGE used to saunter, and on one of 
 
 B
 
 2 In the Verdant West. 
 
 which Beeches the former poet carved his 
 initials. 
 
 It is a May morning. The country is 
 adorned in its lovely spring garment. The 
 sun is not out, but dulness by no means 
 abounds, and leaving for a while the " Castle 
 of Comfort" at Dodington, where visitors 
 receive the best attention, we stroll along the 
 high road for Holford. How beautiful every- 
 thing looks. Nature is all alive, wreathed in 
 a .wealth of glory, and affording constant 
 visions of rich poetic beauty in colour and 
 form. The hedges are bright with delicate 
 greenery, while the trees bear foliage of the 
 prettiest tints, and the stretches of grass land 
 look like carpets of glossy velvet. Warblings 
 of birds break the peaceful quietude reigning 
 around. As we wander along with lovely 
 scenery sparkling in our eyes and the sweet 
 songs of our feathered friends ringing in our 
 ears there comes upon us " that indefinable 
 yearning for everything that is bright and 
 fresh on this fair earth of ours." 
 
 Buzz-z-z. What's that r A big bird dis- 
 turbed by our footsteps has hurried from a 
 gorse bush and flown rapidly away. It has a 
 large patch of green on its back, and is
 
 On the Quantocks. 3 
 
 known by the familiar name of the green 
 woodpecker. Taking a bye-lane on the left 
 we reach the top of a hill down the bottom 
 of which lies the pretty little village of 
 Holford. Descending the hill we cross the 
 road, which has running by its side a 
 murmuring stream, and ascend another 
 situated at the back of the glen. We are on 
 our way for the famous Beeches, but turning 
 aside we trudge over a field that leads not to 
 the Glen but to some woods in closer 
 proximity to Mrs. JANE ST. ALBYN'S 
 residence. 
 
 We want to watch the birds and hear 
 them sing. Into the woods we plunge, 
 and in the midst of bushes and under spread- 
 ing trees we sit. Frightened at our intrusion 
 the birds with one accord end their tunes and 
 fly away. But we have only to keep quiet 
 and they will come back again. Yes, one by 
 one they return and re-commence their 
 singing. It is delightful to listen to them. 
 Without any stretch of the imagination we 
 can fancy ourselves miles and miles away 
 from Bridgwater, and in one of those sweet 
 spots so charmingly described in the Arabian 
 Nights.
 
 4 In the Verdant West. 
 
 Despite the criticisms modern cynicism has 
 passed on the "rigours of an English spring" 
 the month of May in an average year is the 
 opening of the full effect of the feathered 
 orchestra of which, unlike others, we never 
 seem to tire. And May too is the month of 
 all months to visit the country, which is then 
 usually seen at its best, for as Heber sings 
 
 Flocks on the mountains, 
 And birds upon their spray, 
 
 Tree, turf, and fountains, 
 All hold holiday 
 
 in the " merry month of May." 
 
 Of course some of the May songsters are 
 better known than others. As we sit 
 surrounded with trees and bramble we 
 recognise more than one of our feathered 
 friends. There is the chaffinch whose lively 
 chatter is only heeded by the rustic as 
 expressing from ancient days the wish for 
 " a little bit of butter and no cheese," and 
 the bird, we are told, is held by experts in 
 Bethnal Green, where the prize contests are 
 so enthusiastically crowded, to mean, in 
 proportion to its elaboration, current coin of 
 the realm. Handsome in appearance, the 
 chaffinch is vigorous of note, and has a
 
 On the Quantocks. 5 
 
 peculiar liking for the " apple orchards 
 green." 
 
 Now we hear the thrush with its 
 sonorous voice, and now the brilliant hued 
 yellow hammer, while on a branch close by 
 us boldly sits a robin red-breast singing away 
 most happily. Up on the top of a tree the 
 redstart is making its voice heard, and ever 
 and anon comes the cooing of the wood- 
 pigeon, whose soft notes are an agreeable 
 contribution to the music filling the air. 
 Dozens of other birds, the cuckoo of course 
 included, are busy singing, and 
 
 Soft flows the strain along the silent glade, 
 And well-pleased echo lends her willing aid, 
 
 as from distant trees one bird answers 
 another. Sweet is the melody the songsters 
 make, and sweet it is to linger and listen to 
 them. 
 
 Tempus fugtt. We must be moving on. 
 Reluctantly we leave the spot, and make for 
 the lane again. Very soon the top of the 
 lane is gained, and we find ourselves on the 
 Quantocks. The celebrated Beeches running 
 along the side of the hill stare us in the face. 
 They are bowed down with age. Many a 
 gale and many a storm have they withstood.
 
 6 In the Verdant West. 
 
 As we gaze at them, we think of the times of 
 the past of the times when WORDSWORTH 
 and COLERIDGE used to saunter up that lane 
 and along that very hill top. What a lot has 
 happened since then ; what changes have 
 taken place ; what general progress has been 
 made. How different the world is to-day to 
 what it was then ! 
 
 On one of these trees are the initials of 
 WORDSWORTH, carved by himself, and the 
 villagers mention the . fact with feelings of 
 pride. From the top of this hill, too, a 
 splendid view is to be obtained of the 
 Bristol Channel which stretches as far as 
 the eye can see. Proceeding down another 
 lane at the end of the Beeches, we get 
 other good views of the sea and far 
 reaching fertile plain, and then pass 
 through a gateway into Mrs. ST. ALBYN'S 
 grounds. 
 
 We are now on the drive facing 
 the house. We stop and admire the 
 gardens for a few moments and continue our 
 walk. The house is magnificently situated 
 and commands a grand view. As we pass 
 through the park the fallow deer eye us with 
 wistful curiosity. The end of the drive is
 
 On the Quantocks. 7 
 
 nearly arrived at, and on either side are 
 a number of lovely primroses, forming a 
 beautiful border. 
 
 A minute or two more and we find our- 
 selves on the outskirts of Holford Glen and 
 then on the high road. It is fully dinner 
 time, and we hurry along to Dodington to 
 partake of the meal that is awaiting us. 
 
 When hardly a hundred yards from the 
 " Castle of Comfort " we make the acquaint- 
 ance of a notable personage the Rev. JOHN 
 EDWARDS. He is sitting, shrouded in rags, 
 by the side of the hedge. By him are one 
 or two dirty bundles. He has turned the 
 middle of life, and looks a pitiable object of 
 misery. Like all " kings of the road " he 
 has his story to tell. At the outset he tells 
 us that he is a " reverend " gentleman, and 
 this brings an irresistible smile to our faces. 
 He goes on to say that he was born at Wells, 
 and that some little time ago he was sent 
 away to preach the gospel, but before he had 
 commenced his duties very long, some people 
 we hope they were not members of his 
 congregation stole his clothes and ran off 
 with them. In consequence of this he was 
 obliged to come home, and although his
 
 8 In the Verdant West. 
 
 friends seem to have refused to do anything 
 for him he was as enthusiastic as ever over 
 the gospel, and was that very morning on 
 his way to Williton, where he purposed hold- 
 ing gospel services. We gave the Rev. JOHN 
 EDWARDS a few coppers, and then wishing 
 him good luck resumed our walk. In less 
 than five minutes we were in the " Castle of 
 Comfort " enjoying our dinner. 
 
 Soon after five o'clock we start for the 
 walk over the Quantocks. The evening air 
 is fresh and balmy. No sun is shining. Yet 
 the country looks nice, and the walk is very 
 agreeable. But, of course, had old Sol 
 deigned to smile upon us, the enjoyableness 
 of the walk over the hills would have been 
 considerably enhanced. We saunter through 
 the Dodington Woods en route for Danes- 
 borough Height. There is a good deal of 
 life in the woods. Notes of well-known birds 
 are heard. The wood-pigeon keeps fluttering 
 by, disappearing almost immediately among 
 the stately firs that look down upon us with 
 an apparent air of majestic superiority. Yon- 
 der scampers a rabbit down the path, and 
 if you watch it closely you will see it enter 
 one of its many " asylums."
 
 On the Quanfocks. g 
 
 Here on the left is a fine old beech, its 
 branches spreading far and wide. The stem is 
 thickly covered with velvety moss, while the 
 bright green of its foliage is a striking contrast 
 to the dark foliage of the fir trees. Here just in 
 front of us is a big bumble bee buzzing away 
 most vigorously, but it does not attempt to 
 sting us. We are now out of the woods and 
 industriously ascending the hill. We are not 
 long reaching Danesborough Point, and when 
 we do we rest awhile, and meditate on the 
 magnificent view at our command. In the 
 distance is the sea, a splendid sheet of water, 
 resembling a beautiful lake, and the very 
 sight of it suggests the lines 
 
 Away, away to the deep blue sea, 
 Where the waves are gently flowing ; 
 Let's ever be on the billowy sea, 
 Where the winds of heaven are blowing. 
 
 One plainly sees the Flat Holmes, the Steep 
 Holmes, Burnham Lighthouse, and Brent 
 Knoll, and by turning a little to the right 
 one also gets a good glimpse of the Men- 
 dips, the Polden Hills, and the Parret, whose 
 snake-like course can be followed for some 
 little distance. Look to the left and you will 
 get a peep through rising hills of St. Audries' 
 Head and Minehead. Bordering the sea is
 
 io In the Verdant West. 
 
 a fertile plain of great picturesqueness, and 
 the whole scene is one that is not likely to 
 be soon forgotten. 
 
 We resume our tramp. Down the thickly 
 heather covered hill we go, through wooded 
 slopes we push our way, and on the track 
 we get. It does not take us long to reach 
 the hill on the left of Crowcombe, from which 
 we obtain a view of the village in the pretty 
 plain below and of the heights of Exmoor 
 in the distance beyond. 
 
 The sky has become rather cloudy, but 
 suddenly there appears a golden streak of 
 surpassing splendour in the heavens, adding to 
 the scene a glorious glow of light and beauty. 
 In a few moments the golden streak is gone, 
 and the sky resumes its previous appearance. 
 
 Taking a short cut through the heather we 
 enter a field, and go by the Quantock farm, 
 which is snugly situated in a little valley 
 encircled by the rising hills. Along the path 
 we tread surrounded by stretches of yellow 
 gorse and darksome heather. We continue 
 the walk with a deep wooded combe down 
 below and a well wooded hill above. Every 
 now and again we get good glimpses of the 
 Bristol Channel and lovely landscapes, and
 
 On the. Quantocks. 1 1 
 
 every now and again the distant cry of the 
 pheasant, the cooing of the woodpigeon, and 
 the notes of the cuckoo testify to the wildness 
 of the situation. 
 
 Look here. Just glance at this scene. 
 Down on the left is an avenue of beautiful 
 trees displaying foliage of the richest tints, 
 and intermixed with the trees are heather 
 and yellow gorse looking like a sheet of gold. 
 On the bank are batches of smiling primroses 
 and belts of beaming bluebells, while 
 tumbling along its rugged course is a singing 
 stream. Who could wish for a fairer 
 sight r The winding path leads us through 
 the charming grounds of Mr. E. J. STANLEY, 
 M.P., at Over Stowey, and on to Nether 
 Stowey, which was for some time the resid- 
 ence of COLERIDGE. Farther to the north, 
 at the foot of one the loveliest wooded 
 combes, is Alfoxton, already referred to, which 
 was at the same time the home of 
 WORDSWORTH. The two friends have told 
 us how they used to meet and discuss high 
 themes in many a delightful stroll, their 
 neighbours much wondering the while, and 
 the government of the day suspecting their 
 advanced opinions. The end was that they
 
 12 In the Verdant West. 
 
 had to leave, but not before they had made 
 an imperishable record of the beauties of 
 the place. Thus WORDSWORTH writes to 
 COLERIDGE in the Prelude-. 
 
 Beloved friend ! 
 
 When looking back, thou seest in clearer view 
 Than any liveliest sights of yesterday 
 That summer, under whose indulgent skies 
 Upon smooth Quantock's airy ridge we roved 
 Unchecked, or loitered 'mid her sylvan combes ; 
 Thou in bewitching words, with happy heart 
 Didst chaunt the vision of that ancient man, 
 The bright-eyed Mariner, and rueful woes 
 Didst utter of the Lady Christabel. 
 
 COLERIDGE, in a note to the Ancient Mariner, 
 says, " It was on a delightful walk from 
 Nether Stowey to Dulverton, with WORDS- 
 WORTH, and his sister, in the autumn of 
 1797, that this poem was planned and in 
 part composed." 
 
 And now as we proceed along the highroad 
 homewards we feel that we have been well 
 repaid for the journey made. Of each beauty 
 of Nature we can say with WORDSWORTH 
 We've met thee, like a pleasant thought, 
 When such were wanted. 
 
 The sweet songs of the birds we have heard, 
 the beautiful foliage and flowers we have
 
 On the Quantocks. 13 
 
 beheld, and the varied and picturesque scenes 
 we have come across " shall be carried home 
 in our hearts as a present delight and as a 
 source of soothing memories in the days 
 to come."
 
 GLASTONBURY 
 AND WELLS. 
 
 VERYONE acquainted with the 
 West has heard of, if not visited, 
 
 Glastonbury and Wells two towns 
 which can boast of great antiquity 
 and of no mean historical associa- 
 tions. The towns are situated about six 
 miles off one another, and no tourist would 
 scarcely think of visiting the one without 
 the other. We will deal with Glastonbury 
 first as being from a historical point of 
 view the more important of the two places. 
 Containing some 4000 inhabitants, it is 
 situated in the very centre of Somerset, and 
 possesses many attractions. 
 
 Previous to Glastonbury having a railway 
 station, the now obsolete stage coaches used 
 to pass through the town, their arrival always
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 15 
 
 being anticipated with great pleasure and 
 interest. Indeed the arrival and departure of 
 the coaches constituted one of the most agree- 
 able events of the day, but the spreading of 
 railways gradually reduced the number of 
 the coaches, until at last they fell off 
 altogether. 
 
 The result was that for a time the 
 town declined in prosperity, but it only 
 declined to soon after rise to a greater height 
 of success, the opening of the Somerset and 
 Dorset line leading to a large increase in 
 the number of inhabitants as well as in the 
 trade of the place. The main line of the 
 Great Western Railway joins the Somerset 
 and Dorset line at Highbridge, from which 
 Glastonbury may be quickly reached. It 
 has also the sea-side towns of Burnham, 
 Weston-super-Mare and Clevedon within easy 
 distance. 
 
 To go back in history a little we find 
 the early Britons called Glastonbury by 
 the name oi Yniswytrin, which afterwards 
 the Saxons interpreted into Glastonbury, 
 that is, the Glassy Island, in Latin Glas- 
 conia. It is also called the Island of 
 Avalonia from the British name Avalla,
 
 1 6 In the Verdant West. 
 
 which signifies apples, because the soil there 
 is naturally fertile of that fruit, which was 
 found plentifully there when it was first 
 cleared from wood and bushes, and made 
 habitable. 
 
 That in ancient times Glastonbury was 
 remarkably fruitful is beyond doubt. TENNY- 
 SON in his " Arthurian Idylls " thus happily 
 writes of the place : 
 
 The island valley of Avilion, 
 Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, 
 Nor ever wind blows loudly, but it lies 
 Deep meadowed, happy, fair, with orchard lawns, 
 And bowery hollows, crowned with summer sea. 
 On entering Glastonbury the attention of 
 the visitor will be at once arrested by the 
 picturesque position of the town, nestling as 
 it does at the foot of, and gradually rising 
 up the sides of the sloping hills that form 
 the background. Nor will the visitor fail to 
 be struck with the Tor Hill, crowned with 
 the tower of the old church, of very early 
 construction, which, next to the old Abbey, 
 is perhaps, the chief feature of the place. 
 
 Standing out very prominently, the Tor 
 forms a landmark for miles around. Its 
 height is 520 ft., and on the top there 
 used to be a Church, of which now, as
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 17 
 
 already mentioned, the tower alone remains. 
 The Church must have been of very ancient 
 date, but " no record of its first erection 
 is extant." However, we are told that 
 ST. PATRICK made mention of it when he 
 came over soon after 461, stating it to be 
 then in ruins, and tracing the foundation 
 to two of the very early apostles to the 
 Isle. As regards the body of the Church, 
 it is reported to have been swallowed up 
 by an earthquake at the latter part of the 
 thirteenth century. 
 
 Between the Tor and Edmund's Hill, not 
 far off, may be seen Chalice Hill, where 
 legend says the cup of the Last Supper was 
 buried by ST. JOSEPH of Arimathsea. From 
 the top of the Tor Hill a beautiful view is 
 obtainable. Surrounding one on all sides 
 is a large stretch of low moorland, dotted 
 here and there with houses, relieved now and 
 again with belts of trees, and glittering in 
 a hundred places with rhines (narrow streams 
 of water) looking, under the benign influence 
 of the sun, like silvery sheets of light. 
 
 Glancing towards the East the tourist espies 
 the Reservoirs situated at Edgarley, and 
 behind these almost hidden amongst a set
 
 1 8 In the Verdant West. 
 
 of stately trees stands the residence of 
 Mr. J. A. PORCH. The quaint little hamlet 
 of Havyatt is a little farther on, and beyond 
 this is East Pennard, where, on a clear day, 
 you can tell the time by the Church clock. 
 Bending round to the right, so as to face 
 S.E., one commands a fine view of the 
 Quantocks and Butleigh Momnument, which 
 was erected to the memory of the late 
 Sir A. A. HOOD, Bart. 
 
 Farther to the right one gets an excellent 
 view of Street, charmingly situated in the 
 very heart of a mass of beautiful trees. 
 
 Worthy of note also is the Weary-all-Hill, 
 famous for the original home of the Holy 
 Thorn. It is on this hill, tradition tells us, 
 that JOSEPH and his disciples first rested, and 
 being weary, called it Weary-all-Hill. Of 
 course it does not follow, because they 
 rested here, that this is necessarily the spot 
 where they landed. We are told that for 
 some reason, whether because his followers 
 wanted a sign, or the people around faith in 
 the unseen, JOSEPH 
 
 With his nerved arm struck his staff 
 
 Deep in the ground. " There may it stand," said he, 
 
 " The emblem of its parent cross, which bore
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 19 
 
 The father of our life and happiness 
 There may it stand, through many a future age, 
 Firm as the faith we plant within this land, 
 Where we begin our pilgrimage." 
 
 Thence sprang 
 The thorn of Avalon, the wondrous tree, 
 
 By wood cut from the Cross.* 
 
 And there, we are told, it sprouted and 
 blossomed at once, and ever since blossoms at 
 Christmas season : As TENNYSON puts it: 
 
 Where the winter thorn 
 
 Blossoms at Christmas, mindful of our Lord. 
 " Whatever may be the origin of the Holy 
 Thorn, whether it has a Continental birth- 
 place, and is merely an offshoot of some 
 species of thorn there growing, or whether 
 miracle embraces it, there is no doubt that 
 it does blossom in the winter about Christ- 
 mas Day. In one case, it is said that, as 
 it did not blossom on the 25th December, 
 it was considered a proof that that was not 
 the true Christmas Day; and as, on the 
 other hand, it did put forth its blossoms 
 on the 5th January, Christmas Day old 
 style, it was thought to receive the Divine 
 sanction of the Holy Day. And it is 
 further reported that some considerable 
 
 *T. Mayhew.
 
 2O In the Verdant West. 
 
 number of people, disappointed at its not 
 blossoming, refused to attend church, or to 
 keep the day as a church festival ; and so 
 serious was the movement that the ministers 
 of various villages thought it prudent to 
 give notice that Old Christmas Day shall 
 be kept as in former times. 
 
 " For a long time pilgrimages were made 
 to the tree ; and the Bristol merchants 
 made money by drying and exporting the 
 flowers to foreign parts. But in later days, 
 the whole thing was looked upon as a 
 superstitious fiction ; and one trunk of the 
 tree was cut down in the reign of Queen 
 Elizabeth, the other trunk being destroyed 
 in the time of Charles II. It is stated that 
 on its destruction a piece flew off and sadly 
 wounded one of the men employed in the 
 sacrilegious act. The tree has quite vanished 
 from its ancient site, and now is only to 
 be found in the gardens of the neighbour- 
 hood, or dispersed in various directions, 
 being multiplied by budding or grafting. 
 The nurserymen in the town will at any 
 time supply young trees." 
 
 Glastonbury lies cosily at the bottom of 
 Tor Hill, and gives one the impression of
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 21 
 
 being a happy retreat from the hurly-burly of 
 every-day life, so general in larger towns. 
 To the due West shines the sea, on which, 
 although so distant from it, one can perceive 
 vessels sailing serenely on their course, while 
 the Holmes are distinctly observable. So 
 also is Sedgmoor an ever memorable name. 
 It was at Sedgmoor, as everyone must know, 
 that the last battle on British ground was 
 fought where the soi-disant King MONMOUTH 
 made his unsuccessful struggle for the throne 
 and proved himself completely unpossessed 
 of the attributes of an English soldier. It 
 will be remembered that when he found his 
 men were getting beaten in the fight (which 
 began at midnight and lasted till day-break), 
 MONMOUTH, instead of standing by them and 
 encouraging them with his presence, slunk 
 off like a coward, and deserted his followers 
 As the battle was, as just stated, the last 
 fought on British soil, the following graphic 
 account of it, as told by MICAH CLARKE to 
 his grandchildren, and published in that 
 entertaining book, " Micah Clarke," by 
 A. CONAN DOYLE, will no doubt prove of 
 interest, particularly to West countrymen : 
 " Out of the haze which still lay thick upon
 
 22 In the Verdant West. 
 
 our right there twinkled here and there a 
 bright gleam of silvery light, while a dull 
 thundering noise broke upon our ears like 
 that of the surf upon a rocky shore. More 
 and more frequent came the fitful flashes 
 of steel, louder and yet louder grew the 
 hoarse gathering tumult, until of a sudden 
 the fog was rent, and the long lines of the 
 Royal cavalry broke out from it, wave 
 after wave, rich in scarlet and blue and 
 gold, as grand a sight as ever the eye 
 rested upon. There was something in the 
 smooth steady sweep of so great a body 
 of horsemen which gave the feeling of irre- 
 sistible power. Rank after rank, and line 
 after line, with waving standards, tossing 
 manes, and gleaming steel, they poured 
 onwards, an army in themselves, with either 
 flank still shrouded in the mist. As they 
 thundered along, knee to knee and bridle 
 to bridle, there came from them such a gust 
 of deep-chested oaths with the jangle of 
 harness, the clash of steel, and the measured 
 beat of multitudinous hoofs, that no man 
 who hath not stood up against such a whirl- 
 wind, with nothing but a seven-foot pike 
 in his hand, can know how hard it is to
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 23 
 
 face it with a steady lip and a firm grip. 
 
 " But wonderful as was the sight, there 
 was, as ye may guess, my dears, little time 
 for us to gaze upon it. Saxon and the 
 German flung themselves among the pike- 
 men and did all that men could do to 
 thicken their array. Sir Gervas and I did 
 the same with the scythesmen, who had 
 been trained to form a triple front after the 
 German fashion, one rank kneeling, one 
 stooping, and one standing erect, with 
 weapons advanced. Close to us the Taun- 
 ton men had hardened into a dark sullen 
 ring, bristling with steel, in the centre of 
 which might be seen and heard their vener- 
 able Mayor, his long beard fluttering in 
 the breeze, and his strident voice clanging 
 over the field. Louder and louder grew 
 the roar of the horse. ' Steady, my brave 
 lads,' cried Saxon in trumpet tones. ' Dig 
 the pike-butt into the earth ! Rest it on 
 the right foot ! Give not an inch ! Steady ! ' 
 A great shout went up from either side, 
 and then the living wave broke over us. 
 
 " What hope is there to describe such a 
 scene as that the crashing of wood, the 
 sharp gasping cries, the snorting of horses,
 
 24 In the Verdant West. 
 
 the jar when the push of pike met with the 
 sweep of sword ! Who can hope to make 
 another see that of which he himself carries 
 away so vague and dim an impression r 
 One who has acted in such a scene gathers 
 no general sense of the whole combat, such 
 as might be gained by a mere onlooker, but 
 he has stamped for ever upon his mind just 
 the few incidents which may chance to oc- 
 cur before his own eyes. Thus my memories 
 are confined to a swirl of smoke with steel 
 caps and fierce eager faces breaking through 
 it, with the red gaping nostrils of horses 
 and their pawing fore-feet as they recoiled 
 from the hedge of steel. I see, too, a young 
 beardless lad, an officer of dragoons, crawl- 
 ing on hands and knees under the scythes, 
 and I hear his groan as one of the peasants 
 pinned him to the ground. I see a bearded 
 broad-faced trooper riding a grey horse just 
 outside the fringe of the scythes, seeking 
 for some entrance, and screaming the while 
 with rage. Small things imprint themselves 
 upon a man's notice at such a time. I even 
 marked the man's strong white teeth and 
 pink gums. At the same time I see a 
 white-faced thin-lipped man leaning far
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 25 
 
 forward over his horse's neck and driving 
 at me with his sword point, cursing the 
 while as only a dragoon can curse. All 
 these images start up as I think of that 
 fierce rally, during which I hacked and cut 
 and thrust at man and horse without a 
 thought of parry or of guard. All round 
 rose a fierce babel of shouts and cries, godly 
 ejaculations from the peasants, and oaths 
 from the horsemen, with Saxon's voice 
 above all imploring his pikemen to stand 
 firm. Then the cloud of horsemen recoiled, 
 circling off over the plain, and the shout of 
 triumph from my comrades, and an open 
 snuff-box thrust out in front of me, pro- 
 claimed that we had seen the back of as 
 stout squadrons as ever followed a kettle- 
 drum. 
 
 " But if we could claim it as a victory the 
 army in general could scarce say as much. 
 None but the very pick of the troops could 
 stand against the flood of heavy horses and 
 steel-clad men. The Frome peasants were 
 gone, swept utterly from the field. Many 
 had been driven by pure weight and pres- 
 sure into the fatal mud which had checked 
 our advance. Many others, sorely cut and
 
 26 In the Verdant West. 
 
 slashed, lay in ghastly heaps all over the 
 ground which they had held. A few by 
 joining our ranks had saved themselves from 
 the fate of their companions. Further off 
 the men of Taunton still stood fast, though 
 in sadly diminished numbers. A long ridge 
 of horses and cavaliers in front of them 
 showed how stern had been the attack, 
 and how fierce the resistance. On our left 
 the wild miners had been broken at the 
 first rush, but had fought so savagely, throw- 
 ing' themselves upon the ground and stab- 
 bing upwards at the stomachs of the horses, 
 that they had at last beaten off the dra- 
 goons. The Devonshire militiamen, however, 
 had been scattered, and shared the fate of 
 the men of Frome. During the whole of 
 the struggle the foot upon the further bank 
 of the Bussex Rhine were pouring in a 
 hail of bullets, which our musqueteers, hav- 
 ing to defend themselves against the horse, 
 were unable to reply to. 
 
 "It needed no great amount of soldierly 
 experience to see that the battle was lost, 
 and that Monmouth's cause was doomed. 
 It was broad daylight now though the sun 
 had not yet risen. Our cavalry was gone,
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 27 
 
 our ordnance was silent, our line was 
 pierced in many places, and more than 
 one of our regiments had been destroyed." 
 
 From the Tor Hill views may also be had 
 of the tower of St. John's, and Bushey Combe, 
 with its belt of elm trees, amongst which the 
 houses of Bove Town are partly hidden. 
 North- Westwards rises Brent Knoll in the 
 distance, and one can see the spot where the 
 Mendips begin. Cheddar and who has not 
 heard of its glories ? can also be seen, and 
 the various hamlets at the foot of the Mendips 
 look like the merest specks. Due North a 
 grand view of Wells may be obtained, with 
 its Cathedral and St. Cuthbert's Church 
 " rearing their towers loftily to the sky." 
 
 No one would think of going to Glaston- 
 bury without visiting the widely-famed 
 Abbey, or rather its ruins. To go into the 
 history of the Abbey or to deal with it 
 in other than mere general terms would 
 occupy little short of an entire volume, and 
 therefore we can only, as it were, glance at 
 it here. 
 
 In the first place we may say that the 
 history of the Abbey dates back to the earli- 
 est Christian era. That Christianity was of
 
 28 In the Verdant West. 
 
 very early date in Glastonbury appears cer- 
 tain from the fact that the Christians in 
 Britain had communication with the Chris- 
 tians in Rome, and it is probable that the 
 sons of the British officials were sent to 
 Rome, to be educated in the house of PRU- 
 DENS and CLAUDIA, friends of ST. PAUL. 
 And we are reminded that the early writers 
 point to the fact of the first Church in which 
 the name of Christ was preached, being 
 planted in Yniswytryn (Glastonbury). 
 
 In 60 1 there is evidence of a charter being 
 granted to the Abbey by the Damnonian 
 King, GWRGAN ; and Professor FREEMAN is 
 of opinion that at about this date Glaston- 
 bury was made the great sanctuary of the 
 British, in place of Ambresbury, which had 
 but lately fallen. 
 
 After this, about 658, says Mr. G. W. 
 WRIGHT, the erudite Hon. Sec. to the 
 Glastonbury Antiquarian Society, the British 
 were beaten further back, and Glastonbury 
 became English ; but, whereas, while the 
 English were heathen they sought to destroy 
 all Temples and Churches of the Christians, 
 they now held them in reverence, and gave 
 gifts for their maintenance.
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 29 
 
 Glastonbury therefore claims never to have 
 failed in her worship of the true faith, and 
 whether ST. PETER, or ST. SIMON, or ST. 
 PHILIP, sent over the early missionaries ; 
 whether JOSEPH of Arimathaea came with his 
 eleven disciples, as we would fain believe ; 
 or whether the Christian religion was first 
 preached by other tongues, this can truly be 
 boasted of, that at a very early date Chris- 
 tianity was preached at Glastonbury, and 
 that from its earliest date its dissemination 
 has continued through all mutations and 
 difficulties to the present time. 
 
 There has been, declares Mr. WRIGHT, no 
 break, no time when CHRIST has been set 
 aside for any other name. Thus it will be 
 seen that Glastonbury can boast of being a 
 very ancient place, and the majestic ruins 
 that act as a load-stone to thousands of 
 visitors " tell of many mighty builders, and 
 the first wooden Church of JOSEPH (said to 
 have been erected on the very spot where the 
 Abbey stands), came to be known as the 
 Vetusta Ecclesia, the Ealde Cirche, as well as 
 the Lignea Basilica, and many sacred 
 personages found a resting place in its 
 hallowed precincts."
 
 3O In the Verdant West. 
 
 The ruins of the Abbey, with its various 
 adjoining buildings, such as the Chapter 
 House (which was used for the transaction of 
 the business connected with the Monastery), 
 the Library (which was the first in England, 
 and consisted of choice and valuable books, 
 the gifts of Royalty and devotees of all 
 classes), the Scriptorium (where those Monks 
 noted for their scholarship and writing ability 
 worked in transcribing the costly books, and 
 illuminating missals), the Refectory (where 
 the whole of the Monks repaired for their 
 meals), the Guest House, the Kitchen, the 
 Almonry (where the poor were liberally 
 relieved two days in each week), and the 
 School these ruins are all well worth seeing, 
 and cannot fail to prove of the greatest 
 interest to the inquiring tourist or visitor. 
 
 Another very attractive feature of the town 
 is what is called the Blood Spring or Holy 
 Well, which is a spring that rises in a valley 
 between the Tor and Chalice Hills, and a 
 most interesting legend is attached to it. 
 
 "When JOSEPH came to the Island he is 
 supposed to have brought with him the 
 Chalice of the Last Supper, and it is said 
 that it was buried somewhere in the hill now
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 31 
 
 known by its name. TENNYSON, speaking of 
 
 the cup, says : 
 
 " The cup, the cup itself from which our Lord 
 Drank at the last sad Supper with His own ; 
 This from the blessed land of Aramat, 
 After the day of darkness, when the dead 
 Went wandering over Moriah, the good Saint 
 Arimathaean Joseph, journeying brought 
 To Glastonbury, where the winter thorn 
 Blossoms at Christmas, mindful of our Lord. 
 " From the spot where the cup was buried, 
 wherever that may be, a spring arose, which 
 has ever flowed, and is still flowing in copious 
 streams of the purest sparkling water. 
 
 " Ah me ; so long ago 
 
 The mists of clouds and ages come between 
 That time and this, yet still the Chalice Spring 
 Is bubbling up ; nor winter frost nor drought 
 Affects it ; still it flows on ceaselessly. 
 No man's invention can direct its course, 
 Nor find from whence it comes ; no hill supplies 
 Its shining waters ; straight from out the cup 
 It springs, and shall spring ceaselessly, for aye, 
 A gift, a miracle, from God to man.* 
 " So far its name of the Holy Well may 
 be accounted for. But it has another 
 and if possible more sacred name still. It is 
 a chalybeate water, and the iron in it is 
 easily oxidised as it becomes exposed to the 
 
 * A. M. Meadows.
 
 32 In the Verdant West. 
 
 atmosphere, and it leaves on the stones or 
 earth it passes over a red deposit, from which 
 peculiarity added to the supposition that it 
 issues from ' the cup, the cup itself,' forms 
 the foundation for its being known as the 
 'Blood Spring.' Moreover, after traversing 
 a considerable distance, and falling into a 
 stone trough, from which the overflow water 
 escapes from the top, the deposit, being more 
 confined, has been observed to form at the 
 bottom of the vessel, a solid substance, which 
 had the appearance of clots of blood. 
 
 " With these associations it is not wonderful 
 that the spring was held in great reverence 
 by the Saints of old, and that by its use many 
 and great miracles were effected. It has, 
 from the earliest times, been renowned for the 
 cures that pilgrims to its source obtained. It 
 is very probable the water was conveyed to 
 the abbey, as will be shown ; and there 
 formed a source of income to the Monastery. 
 It is much more likely the well in St. Joseph's 
 Chapel, as it is now called, was supplied from 
 a spring considered so sacred as this, than 
 that it should have received its water from 
 one in the immediate vicinity of which there 
 is no trace.
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 33 
 
 "In 1751 MATHEW CHANCELLOR, of North 
 Wootton, published a dream he had had, in 
 which he was directed how to use the water 
 for the disease, asthma, from which he was 
 suffering. These directions he implicitly fol- 
 lowed, and found permanent benefit. In 1852 
 a book was published by a physician, in 
 which he gives his view of the value of the 
 water, and the manner in which it acts upon 
 the human frame, and then follows a large 
 number of cases cured by its use, the accounts 
 taken from patients who swore before a 
 magistrate as to the truth of their assertions. 
 At this time the water was visited by large 
 numbers of patients from Bath and Bristol, 
 and the surrounding parts, some ten thou- 
 sand coming within a very short space of 
 time. So large was the number that 
 lodgings could not be obtained for all who 
 came." 
 
 Not a few men of note have been connected 
 with Glastonbury, and among them the name 
 of ST. DUNSTAN, a great promoter of 
 monastic life, stands out pre-eminent. He 
 became Archbishop of Canterbury, and died 
 in 988. His skill in the smith's art was so 
 great that the goldsmiths in London are 
 
 D
 
 34 In the Verdant West. 
 
 incorporated by the name of the Company of 
 ST. DUNSTAN. 
 
 From Glastonbury there are a number of 
 lovely drives and walks, the scenery all 
 around being of a delightful description. 
 Picturesquely situated, Glastonbury offers to 
 the tourist some most enticing rambles, and 
 it will be a strange thing if the tourist does 
 not make for Wells, the road being a good 
 one, and the prospect extremely inviting. 
 Tn a comparatively short time Wells will 
 be reached, and of course the centre of 
 attraction there will be the fine old 
 Cathedral. 
 
 " Wells is essentially an ecclesiastical city, 
 perhaps the most remarkable of its kind in 
 the world, and its existence and importance 
 are almost wholly due to the religious 
 foundations of which it was the seat. 
 Before the time of INA, King of the West 
 Saxons, the place was but a little village ; 
 but soon after this pious prince obtained 
 the crown he founded a Church (A.D. 704) 
 on the site of the present Cathedral. The 
 town was first incorporated by Bishop 
 ROBERT, who succeeded to the See in 1138, 
 and died about 1166. This charter was
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 35 
 
 confirmed, and the privileges granted by it 
 extended, by subsequent Bishops. The 
 first Royal charter was granted by King 
 JOHN in the third year of his reign (1201-2), 
 and by this it was constituted a free 
 borough, and the townsmen and their heirs 
 free burgesses." 
 
 As already stated, the fine Cathedral is 
 the centre of attraction to visitors, and with 
 its group of subordinate buildings we are told 
 it offers the most complete example of a secular 
 Cathedral (i.e., of the old foundation) now left 
 to us. 
 
 An excellent view of the exterior is ob- 
 tained from the south-east, across the moat 
 and battlemented walls which surround the 
 gardens of the episcopal palace, and from the 
 Shepton Mallet road ; while from the spacious 
 close a capital view may be had of the three 
 towers, the majestic West front, with its superb 
 screen, the noble chapter-house, and the unique 
 chain bridge between the transept and the 
 vicar's college. To JOCELIN, Bishop of Bath 
 and Wells, from 1205 to 1241, is due the credit 
 for the work of the whole of " the glorious 
 West front," save the upper portion of the 
 towers.
 
 36 In the Verdant West. 
 
 The work is said to form one of the 
 most extraordinary examples of mediaeval 
 sculpture in Europe. " From basement to 
 gable, it is full of rich and beautiful foliage 
 of delicately - wrought stonework, and is 
 Covered with sculptures in deep niches, 
 relieved by shafts of Kilkenny marble, con- 
 stituting the earliest and most magnificent 
 series of religious effigies disposed of in 
 this manner to be found in Europe ; the 
 list includes 21 crowned kings, 8 queens, 
 31 mitred ecclesiastics, 7 knights, 14 nobles 
 and princes, and upwards of 450 smaller 
 figures, embodying the whole Christian 
 scheme, from the Creation to the Day of 
 Final Retribution, \vhich crowns the central 
 gable. On either side is portrayed the 
 General Resurrection ; above this is the 
 Heavenly Hierarchy ; while below our Savi- 
 our, in His Majesty, stand the figures of the 
 Twelve Apostles. For artistic skill and ex- 
 cellence, these sculptures are not surpassed 
 by any similar and contemporaneous works 
 on the Continent, being full of action and 
 gracefully draped, with every minute detail 
 of costume carefully produced." 
 
 Next to the Cathedral in point of interest
 
 Glastonbury and Wells. 37 
 
 is the Bishop's Palace, which, with its 
 grounds, occupies an area of seven acres, 
 and is one of the most perfect and interesting 
 examples of castellated baronial mansions, 
 as well as of early domestic architectural 
 art, now existing in the kingdom. 
 
 Bishop JOHN DE VILLULA, 1088, is attri- 
 buted with having laid the first foundation 
 of the Palace, but the present structure, we 
 learn, was the work of several different pre- 
 lates, and is defended by an embattled wall 
 with an alure behind the parapet, built by 
 Bishop RALPH DE SALOPIA after 1329, and 
 an outer gate house, with square flanking 
 towers and a drawbridge suspended by chains 
 across the moat, which surrounds the whole. 
 
 The city of Wells owes its modern name to 
 the springs or wells near the Eastern end 
 of the Cathedral, and in ancient times it was 
 known as "Welle," "Welliae," and other 
 names, all having reference to its remarkable 
 springs, the chief of which, known as " St. 
 Andrew's Well," still exists in the gardens 
 of the Palace. 
 
 A very interesting story is told about the 
 water of Wells. It is to the effect that 
 Bishop BECKINGTON, a liberal benefactor
 
 38 In the Verdant West. 
 
 to the city, granted to the inhabitants the 
 right to a continuous supply of water from 
 the " St. Andrew's Well." This grant is 
 still in force, the water being conveyed to 
 the great conduit in the Market Place, and 
 thence flowing along the side of the streets, 
 forming a most interesting feature in the 
 city. To show their gratitude for such a 
 boon the citizens bound themselves to make 
 a yearly pilgrimage to the tomb of their 
 benefactor, and there pray for the repose of 
 his soul. 
 
 It is worthy of note that Wells is said 
 to be the only city in England which has 
 not furnished a title of nobility.
 
 BRENT KNOLL. 
 
 F there is any place in the West any 
 one should make a point of seeing, it is 
 Brent Knoll. The air on the top 
 of the Knoll is of the most invigorating 
 kind, and the view on all sides is 
 very striking ; embracing first the great 
 alluvial plain, with all its wonderful 
 richness, reaching up to Glastonbury Tor; 
 and on all sides, except that towards the 
 Mendip here in its finest outline, and 
 including the Cheddar Cliffs extending from 
 forty to fifty miles. Another reason why 
 Brent Knoll should be visited is because at its 
 foot lies the home of that distinguished 
 ornament of the Church of England, the 
 Venerable Archdeacon DENISON. The likeli- 
 hood is that sometime during the afternoon
 
 4O In the Verdant West. 
 
 you will find him about the vicarage 
 grounds, or in the church, which alone is 
 worth seeing. But about that we shall 
 have more to say a little later on. As for 
 the Archdeacon he is a most genial 
 gentleman, and if you are not particularly 
 backward he will very readily enter into a 
 pleasant chat with ycu. 
 
 It was a lovely afternoon when a small 
 party of us proceeded to Brent Knoll to 
 ramble through the immediate country. 
 Arrived at Brent Knoll we make our way 
 up a dusty lane leading to the village and 
 church, enter the churchyard, and after 
 examining the exterior of the ancient edifice, 
 commence to climb the steep hill familiarly 
 termed the Knoll, determining to reach 
 the summit. 
 
 The sun is shining gloriously, and the as- 
 cent is no easy task. Yet upward we perse- 
 veringly climb, occasionally seeking a change 
 by sitting down for a few minutes in some 
 shady spot, and taking a glance at the lovely 
 scene below us. As BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 
 says, perseverance is bound to bring its own 
 reward, and never more do we realise the truth 
 of this than when we reach with a shout of
 
 Brent Knoll. 41 
 
 triumph the top of the Knoll. The scene 
 that lies stretched before us on all sides is 
 surpassingly beautiful, and is a rich reward 
 for any fatigue the ascent has cost us. Old 
 Sol is in one of his happiest moods, and the 
 brilliancy of his smiles adds considerably to 
 the grandeur of the surrounding country. A 
 delightful breeze playing about the top of the 
 hill fans our heated faces, and for some time 
 we stand drinking in the delicious air and 
 admiring the magnificent view before us. 
 The undulating meadow lands in which cattle 
 are quietly grazing, the belts of trees wreathed 
 in foliage of lovely green, the Lilliputian- 
 looking villages, and Burnham sea, with its 
 ceaseless music, sparkling like so many gems 
 in the distance all this constitutes a scene 
 which is not easily effaced from the memory. 
 
 " Time waits for no man " is an old adage* 
 and remembering this we turn our faces 
 towards East Brent, and commence to make 
 a descent, being desirous of paying a visit to 
 Archdeacon DENISON'S place. Just as it is 
 more easy to swim with the tide than against 
 it, so is it easier to make a descent than an 
 ascent, as many only too well know, and 
 needless to say we are not long getting to
 
 42 In the Verdant West. 
 
 the bottom of the hill. Then we catch for 
 the first time a good glimpse of the Venerable 
 gentleman's house half hidden in a thick belt 
 of trees, and standing in peaceful serenity 
 within a stone's throw of the church. Hav- 
 ing inspected a portion of the grounds we 
 wend our way to the edifice, which, being 
 open, we timidly enter. No service being 
 on, we at once begin examining the interior. 
 One cannot help being struck with the beau- 
 tiful decorations which meet one's eyes at all 
 points and turns. Banners containing Scrip- 
 tural texts and quotations from the Common 
 Prayer Book are suspended on the pillars, 
 while similar texts and quotations are also 
 suitably and attractively arranged round the 
 walls. The pulpit is profusely adorned with 
 lovely flowers, and as for the altar, it is 
 brilliantly decorated, and presents a most 
 picturesque appearance. 
 
 Being informed that a service would be 
 held at half-past six o'clock, at which Arch- 
 deacon DENISON would be present, we make 
 up our minds to attend it, and as there is an 
 hour to wait we ramble into the village and 
 utilize the time by partaking of a rural tea. 
 On our return we meet the Archdeacon slowly
 
 Brent Knoll. 43 
 
 walking with the aid of a stick up the foot- 
 path to the church. After an exchange of 
 a few kindly words we enter the building 
 together, and the tintinnabulation of the bell 
 having ceased, the service commences. The 
 Archdeacon takes the leading part, and the 
 service, though short, is of an impressive 
 character. Notwithstanding that he is some- 
 thing like 85 years of age, Archdeacon 
 DENISON still actively engages himself in 
 church matters, and sets a laudable example 
 to younger men by turning every minute to 
 
 good account. 
 
 Catch then, O catch the transient hour ; 
 Improve each moment as it flies ; 
 Life's a short summer man a flower 
 He dies alas ! how soon he dies ! 
 
 And of the Venerable Archdeacon it can 
 conscientiously be said that he is a great 
 husbander of time, using it judiciously and 
 wisely. Rising almost every morning before 
 six o'clock, he turns every hour to good ac- 
 count, replying to his numerous correspon- 
 dents, studying the Book of books and other 
 theological works, participating every day 
 in devotional services in his little church, 
 and taking out-door exercise. Not unfre- 
 quently, too, his well-known face is seen in
 
 44 In the Verdant West. 
 
 London and other places, the interests of 
 the Church claiming all his energy, time, 
 money, and talents. How dearly he loves 
 the Church of England, and how much he is 
 concerned for her welfare, may be seen from 
 the following extract from a letter written 
 by the Venerable Archdeacon to the author 
 of this book : " All the money that I have 
 to spare and it is not much goes in the 
 cause of the Church of England, in the en- 
 deavour to recover for her her true constitu- 
 tional position in Church and State. The 
 position is a * Divine gift.' Like all other 
 * Divine gifts ' it has been invaded and be- 
 trayed invaded from without and betrayed 
 from within. What I have left of life, and 
 strength, and energy, and means, goes in 
 the Church's cause." 
 
 Archdeacon DENISON never speaks without 
 revealing a mind of wonderful fertility and 
 vigour, and his utterances, full of weight and 
 earnestness as they are, always command the 
 deepest attention of every thoughtful listener. 
 A powerful and caustic writer on matters 
 affecting Church and State, but a man of 
 gentle disposition and generous sympathies 
 in private life, the Venerable Archdeacon has
 
 Brent Knoll. 45 
 
 won the esteem and goodwill of a large circle 
 of persons, and is greatly respected in the 
 Church of England, whose cause he has 
 championed with so much zeal and ability. 
 
 But to the church again. The service over, 
 we once more make tracks for the Knoll. 
 The return ramble is most delightful. The 
 heat of the sun has abated, and in its stead 
 has sprung up a soft refreshing breeze, very 
 welcome to us now weary-growing travellers. 
 The Knoll is at last ascended, and after a 
 short rest on the top and another good look 
 at the splendid scene around us, we commence 
 the descent, which is safely and quickly 
 made. On arriving in the village we find 
 our horse and trap awaiting us, and most 
 enjoyable is the drive home in the pleasant 
 quiet of eventide.
 
 CHEDDAR. 
 
 J 
 
 gRUTH is stranger than fiction. No- 
 where is this familiar saying more 
 forcibly brought home than at 
 
 ;t Cheddar. What is there at Cheddar 
 
 J.J, to interest ? does some one ask. Our 
 reply is, go and see. 
 
 Whether you explore the straggling, Swiss- 
 like village of over 3,000 inhabitants, or visit 
 the marvellous caves, unsurpassed in the 
 world, or view the mighty rocks forming in 
 part the magnificent cliffs for which Cheddar 
 is so noted, you will be at once struck with 
 admiration and wonderment. 
 
 Cheddar has been called by Mr. F. A. 
 KNIGHT in his charming book, " Idylls of 
 the Field," a national glory. We consider 
 it to be entitled to be pronounced one of
 
 Cheddar. 47 
 
 the wonders of the world. Dean ALFORD 
 declared Cheddar to be the grandest rocky 
 defile he knew; certainly no one who visits 
 the place can come away disappointed. It 
 is constantly provoking expressions of ad- 
 miration and amazement, and kindles the 
 interest, and arouses the enthusiasm of the 
 most callous visitor. 
 
 One thing the thoughtful observer will be 
 impressed with is the contrast, from a moral 
 and social standpoint, of Cheddar to-day with 
 Cheddar as the good and philanthropic Mrs. 
 HANNAH MORE found it. As is very well 
 known, when Mrs. HANNAH MORE first 
 visited Cheddar the people were living a life 
 little better than that of heathenism, their 
 spiritual and social welfare being completely 
 neglected. How pained the good lady was 
 at her discovery, and how, in face of great 
 bodily weakness and many difficulties, she 
 worked to Christianise and educate the poor 
 superstitious people, and to improve their lot 
 generally, is now quite a matter of history. 
 
 At Cheddar, as in other surrounding vil- 
 lages, Mrs. HANNAH MORE, who by the way 
 was the founder of that grand institution, the 
 Religious Tract Society, lit a light destined
 
 48 In the Verdant West. 
 
 never to die out, but to grow brighter and 
 brighter with increasing years, carrying 
 cheer and comfort to many a heart and 
 home. 
 
 Cheddar now boasts of some five or six 
 places of worship, all, more or less, well 
 attended. The cottage in which Mrs. HAN- 
 NAH MORE conducted her first school still 
 remains, and is an object of considerable 
 interest to visitors. The centenary of the 
 school was celebrated in befitting style last 
 year 1889. 
 
 When about three parts of the way through 
 the village cliifwards one is struck with some 
 of the dwellings of the poor on the right 
 of the road. Small, low roofed, and stone 
 floored, they afford a fair idea of the wretched 
 dwellings that were for sometime a standing 
 disgrace to Cheddar, and to civilization. But 
 these are no doubt the best of the lot, and 
 are perhaps considered sufficiently good for 
 the class of people inhabiting them. On 
 the left is a miniature lake backed with 
 thick foliage and rising hills known as the 
 Mendips. 
 
 A little farther on, and we come to 
 Cox's Stalactite Cavern, which, with that
 
 Cheddar. 49 
 
 of GOUGH'S a few yards beyond, constitutes 
 one of the principal features of Cheddar. 
 We pay a shilling and enter the cave. 
 Report has led us to expect much, and for 
 once our expectations are not disappointed. 
 
 The sight presented is truly an extraordi- 
 nary one. It baffles description. To be 
 understood and appreciated it needs to be 
 seen. The Very Rev. the late DEAN of 
 LLANDAFF told a friend that the cave was 
 " the only thing I ever saw that at all realises 
 my idea of Antiparos. It has one main 
 porch, and three or four lateral branches 
 narrow fissures about ten or twelve feet 
 broad, and some thirty or forty feet high, 
 vested and draped with the most fantastic 
 marble of Stalactite one can conceive." This 
 is precisely the case. 
 
 The cave is well lit with gas, reflectors 
 throwing the light into every cavity, show- 
 ing the most Lilliputian water sculpture to 
 be anywhere seen. 
 
 The cave was discovered by the present 
 Mr. Cox's father, who accidentally came 
 across it while looking out a place to build 
 a coach-house. It lies hid away under the 
 rocky cliffs. A peculiar odour, not altogether
 
 50 In the Verdant West. 
 
 unpleasant, pervades the cave ; and now and 
 again a kind of fog spreads itself across the 
 open spaces. 
 
 The roof of the cave presents, as indeed 
 does the whole interior, a fine specimen of 
 sculpture, entirely effected by the wonderful 
 power of water. The rich colouring of the 
 roof combined with its artistic carvings and 
 elegant drapery is a splendid study. Here is 
 to be found work that even MELONIA.N, the 
 great Grecian Sculptor, would acknowledge 
 as being far superior to all his skill and 
 genius. 
 
 Whichever way one looks one is confronted 
 with the most remarkable triumphs of 
 sculpture, now it is a large brown loaf as 
 though fresh from the baker's, then a fat 
 goose, now a Hindoo Temple, and then a 
 sheet of marble beautifully marked and 
 hanging in graceful folds, with red, white, 
 pink, amber, and terra-cotta incrustations. 
 
 All these masterpieces of art have been 
 slowly produced through the agency of water 
 alone, and in the opinion of able authorities 
 must have occupied not only thousands, but 
 millions of years in coming about. 
 
 Proceeding up a flight of stairs between
 
 Cheddar. 5 1 
 
 two high rising rocks we come to what is 
 known as the Fairies' Grotto, where a pool of 
 water on a Stalagmite plateau perfectly 
 reflects a picturesque little chamber some 
 thirty feet away, and forms a very pleasing 
 sight. The small Stalactites, each glistening 
 with a drop of water from the top of the cave, 
 are inverted and concentrated on a small 
 surface, the glittering drops bearing the 
 appearance of sparkling diamonds. 
 
 The only expressions one makes as one 
 explores the cavern are " wonderful " 
 " marvellous," " extraordinary," " unique," 
 and such like. 
 
 Coming downstairs the guide points out a 
 projection that has been sawn through, 
 displaying the composition of Stalactite, 
 which is nothing less than marble beautifully 
 coloured and veined. It is only natural that 
 such a treasure house should attract many 
 men of eminence to it, and among those who 
 have visited this cave may be mentioned the 
 names of H.R.H. the Prince of Wales, 
 T.R.H. the Duke and Duchess of D'Aumale, 
 H.R.H. Prince of Siam, the Duke of Argyll, 
 and Earl Kimberly, etc. Feeling that what 
 we have said of the cave affords but an
 
 52 In the Verdant West. 
 
 imperfect idea of its remarkable interior we 
 gladly give the following able description of 
 it by ELIHU BURRITT, the distinguished 
 American linguist : 
 
 " You will be sure to visit one of Nature's 
 curiosity shops, discovered by sheer accident 
 about thirty years ago near the mouth of this 
 great aperture in the Mendips. A Mr. Cox 
 broke into this singular treasury one day 
 while exploring out a hole in the wall opening 
 upon the public road. In delicacy of 
 execution, versatility of genius in works of 
 fancy, its water sculpture far surpasses any- 
 thing that I saw in the Mammoth Cave in 
 Kentucky. From the domestic character of 
 the subjects here revealed it might be taken 
 for one of the small back kitchens of nature, 
 with a well furnished pantry done in stone. 
 Here are turkeys hanging by the legs as if 
 just from or for the market, a good stout loaf 
 of brown bread with the baker's thumb marks 
 upon it, translucent curtains partly folded, a 
 chime of bells with a sharp steely ring to 
 them ; in fact, a very pattern shop filled with 
 pre-historic prototypes or models of human 
 householdry of all shapes and uses, as well as 
 of artistic sculpture for public galleries. But
 
 Cheddar. 53 
 
 of all the exquisite work of the water drops in 
 this laboratory, nothing struck me so forcibly 
 as the ticking and the telling of a little watch 
 that Nature had wound up and set agoing 
 here perhaps before Adam was created. It is 
 a century glass made for Time to tick off the 
 Earth's Ages ; and it keeps the reckoning 
 with a precision that an astronomer would 
 covet for his chronometer. In the plain, clear 
 Saxon of boys' language, it is the dripping of 
 an icicle of stone which freezes as it falls and 
 forms another icicle pointing upward. Boys 
 know how these points near each other until 
 they join and make one column of ice from 
 bottom to top. With this in their eyes they 
 will see how this century glass works in the 
 cave. From the fine tip of a stone icicle, 
 called a Stalactite, there falls once or twice in 
 five minutes, a tiny drop of water, which has 
 a little dash of lime in it. Perhaps a pint of it 
 may fall in the space of twenty-four hours. 
 This continual dropping makes a good deal of 
 wet on the rocky bottom for a considerable 
 space around. I believe no one has tested 
 the water, but perhaps what falls in a week 
 contains a teaspoonful of lime sediment. 
 This hardens into stone, looking like layers of
 
 54 In the Verdant West. 
 
 candied sugar. There gradually a little point 
 arises out of the centre of a wide foundation 
 of these layers. Every drop falls and splits 
 on this sharp point, just moistening it anew, 
 once a minute. Yet there is lime in this little 
 moisture, and it hardens and builds up the 
 tiny horn of stone : but how slowly ! It 
 would be an interesting sight and instructive, 
 too, for children to stand by and see that 
 clock work go on. When Mr. Cox first broke 
 into this dark, low-roofed clock factory of 
 Nature, and held his torch up to see what was 
 going on there, among other sights was this 
 ticking timepiece two icicles of stone trying 
 to make their points meet, as hundreds 
 standing about the Cave had already done 
 centuries ago. The lower one had arisen 
 about a foot from the foundation. It was 
 climbing up slowly. He had watched it for 
 nearly twenty years, and could see hardly the 
 difference of an inch in its height ; yet it was 
 climbing, perhaps, at the rate of six inches a 
 century. Just so many drops a day it receives 
 upon its point from the one above, just so 
 many millimeters in a decade it makes in its 
 upward progress. With a good microscope 
 one perhaps might see how much it grows in
 
 Cheddar. 55 
 
 a single year. It is one of Nature's 
 chronometers hung up in the thousand and 
 one caverns of the earth, whose minute hand 
 tells off her centuries. For myself I never 
 before looked at a timepiece and heard it tick 
 with such thoughts in such contrast with the 
 scant measurements of human life." 
 
 Leaving the remarkable cave we proceed 
 through the village towards the massive and 
 mighty cliffs. As we stroll along several 
 things of interest claim our attention. First, 
 there is another miniature lake with two or 
 three tiny cottages almost touching the water, 
 so that you wonder how it is possible for the 
 inmates to come out without stepping into it, 
 and then a little farther on you come across 
 Go UGH' S Cave, attractively situated in the 
 verdant-covered rocks, which you cannot 
 resist gazing upon for some minutes. The 
 longer you linger the more you admire them- 
 There is something irresistibly captivating 
 about them, and it is with reluctance that you 
 turn your head and move on. 
 
 A few steps farther, and you stop again. 
 The object of your attention is now a rude 
 archway in a piece of rock on the left, with 
 an old cart sheltering its feeble frame under
 
 56 In the Verdant West. 
 
 it. Simple and inelegant as the picture is, 
 yet it is curiously interesting. 
 
 In less than another minute one finds one- 
 self by the side of a picturesque little cottage 
 on the left of the road standing entirely by 
 itself. It lies cosily enough at the foot of 
 the towering cliffs. The roof is a thatched 
 one, and the apartments, though evidently 
 small, look to be scrupulously spruce. 
 The bird-cage hangs upon the wall, 
 Amid the clust'ring vine ; 
 The rustic seat is in the porch, 
 Where honeysuckles twine. 
 
 Humble though the dwelling be the occu- 
 pants are certainly fond of flowers, for the 
 windows are bright with beautiful blooms, 
 and 
 
 The open'd casement, flinging wide, 
 Geraniums give to view ; 
 With choicest posies rang*d between, 
 Still wet with morning dew. 
 The picturesque abode at once takes your 
 fancy and well-nigh makes you envy the 
 happy inmates. 
 
 And now we have come to the bend of 
 the road, and the village is shut out of 
 sight. Huge rocks look down upon us with 
 a sternness that makes us shudder. They
 
 Cheddar. 57 
 
 seem to laugh at our littleness, and verily 
 we feel how insignificant man is. 
 
 How wonderfully formed are some of these 
 tremendous rocks, and what impressions they 
 give the mind ! Here to the right is a great 
 overhanging rock with a considerable portion 
 of its foundation entirely gone, and as you 
 look at it you expect the whole mass to 
 tumble upon you ; but, no, it stands safe and 
 sure, and probably will be still standing there 
 in ages to come. 
 
 To the left the rocks rise gently, and are 
 not so high, though as we proceed on our 
 way we find their height increases, until on 
 either side of us are stupendous rocks only 
 divided by the width of the road, gazing at 
 one another in sublime silence. 
 
 Hark ! we hear a human voice from above. 
 We turn our eyes heavenwards, and on the 
 top of a projecting pinnacle which seems to 
 be tipping the skies we faintly perceive the 
 form of a man. He shouts again. It is 
 only a greeting, and we walk slowly on, 
 wondering at the venturesomeness of the 
 man who had trusted his life in such a 
 perilous position. 
 
 A noise ! A rumbling ! What's the cause
 
 58 In the Verdant West. 
 
 of it ? We listen and look around. A piece 
 of rock has been set free, and has made the 
 rumbling noise by rolling down the stony 
 cliff, and we are pleased to think it is nothing 
 worse. 
 
 Immense and remarkable as are the rocks 
 they would lose much of their attraction and 
 glory but for the picturesqueness lent them 
 by the pretty greenery and lovely foliage 
 with which they are everywhere adorned. 
 Just examine these great towers of rock 
 forming almost a semi-circle, with bases of 
 a most irregular kind. Gracing the founda- 
 tions are numbers of soft blue harebells 
 smiling from the grass ; a little higher up the 
 rocks beautiful ferns wave to and fro; from 
 the crevices peeps out the delicate little 
 Cheddar pink ; while running along above it 
 is a network of the freshest ivy ; and bending 
 their full-foliaged forms from this and that 
 rocky projection are little bushes and trees 
 of the fairest tints. One massive piece of 
 rock in particular has a magnificent appear- 
 ance. It is richly draped with fold after fold 
 of ivy ingeniously interwoven with charming 
 foliage, portions of which caught by the sun 
 look like so many dazzling gems. And ever
 
 Cheddar. 59 
 
 and anon there comes a gentle rustling of 
 all this wealth of foliage, enforcing one to 
 repeat the lines : 
 
 Oh ! how I love to calmly muse 
 In such an hour as this ; 
 To nurse the joy creation gives, 
 In purity and bliss. 
 
 But flowers and foliage are not the only 
 tenants of these rocky cliffs. Birds of various 
 kind inhabit them, and all through the live- 
 long day keep themselves en evidence. Jack- 
 daws innumerable make the cliffs their home 
 and pass their time away in continuous 
 clatter and in vieing "with one another in 
 sailing from one projecting height to another 
 under the sunny sky. 
 
 Then there are rock-doves and daws, the 
 grey wings of the former constituting a pleas- 
 ing contrast to the dark plumage of the latter, 
 and then, too, one must not forget to mention 
 the kestrels, whose shrill screams become 
 very familiar before one has been among the 
 cliffs very long. Altogether the birds form 
 quite an interesting feature of the place, and 
 enliven in no little way the prevailing 
 quietude by their constantly chattering 
 tongues and frequent flyings across the 
 winding ravine from peak to peak.
 
 60 In the Verdant West. 
 
 Cheddar Rocks have been compared to the 
 " bleak horrors of Black-gang and the ver- 
 dant honours of Shanklin Chine, crowned 
 with the Druidical remains from Stonehenge, 
 together with the huge Tors of Dartmoor." 
 Mrs. H. MORE, writing about them to a 
 friend, described " the lofty Cliffs of Cheddar" 
 as " so stupendously romantic, that the shade 
 of OSSIAN or the ghost of TALIESIN himself, 
 might range, not undelighted, through them." 
 
 Curiously enough nearly every interesting 
 district has its romantic tradition, and Ched- 
 dar is no exception. Though well-known 
 locally, the tradition may not be familiar to 
 the readers of this book. So we record it 
 here : 
 
 * " On his elevation to the regal dignity, 
 king EDMUND admitted to his counsels the 
 blessed DUNSTAN, and had him numbered 
 among his royal courtiers and nobles, know- 
 ing him to be of approved life and of ready 
 speech, which had been evinced while his 
 brother was yet living. Beholding the un- 
 deviating good conversation of the man, 
 many of the king's officers and servants said, 
 
 * Roger of Wendover " Flowers of History," formerly ascribed to 
 Matthew of Paris. Vol. i, page 250. Sub Anno 940. Bohn's Edition.
 
 Cheddar. 6 r 
 
 * He is a good man,' others said, * Nay, but 
 he deceiveth the people.' Wherefore certain 
 persons, envious of his goodness and pru- 
 dence, began to lessen him in the king's eyes, 
 to whom the king lending a favourable ear, 
 and not well examining the matter, com- 
 manded DUNSTAN to be deprived immediately 
 of every honour with the dignity of chan- 
 cellor, and to seek service elsewhere where 
 he would. On the morrow the king, for his 
 amusement, went out hunting with his atten- 
 dants ; straightway the woods resounded with 
 the hunter's horn and the barking of the 
 dogs ; a multitude of deer took to flight, one 
 of which of extraordinary size the king singled 
 out for the chase, and followed with his dogs 
 alone, driving him through difficult paths 
 unto the edge of a precipice, over which the 
 stag and dogs fell headlong and were dashed 
 to pieces. The king following at full speed, 
 and seeing the precipice, strove to rein in 
 his steed ; but not being able to keep back 
 the unruly and stifFnecked animal, he gave 
 up all hope of saving himself, and commended 
 his soul to the pleasure of almighty God, 
 saying, ' I give thee thanks, Lord Jesus 
 Christ, that at this time I do not remember
 
 62 In the Verdant West. 
 
 having injured any one but DUNSTAN only; 
 and this fault I will with ready zeal amend 
 by a hearty reconciliation, if Thou only grant 
 me time.' At these words, through the merits 
 of the blessed man, the horse stood still on 
 the very verge of the precipice, and the king, 
 recovering himself, gave God thanks for the 
 restitution of his life. On reaching home he 
 ordered the blessed DUNSTAN to "be fetched, 
 and no sooner was he come than they 
 mounted their horses and rode together on 
 the road leading straight to Glastonbury. 
 On arriving there, having entered the monas- 
 tery, the king took DUNSTAN by the right 
 hand, and, kissing it, led him to the cathedral 
 seat, in which, with the consent of the monks, 
 he set him, with these words, ' Be thou a 
 faithful abbot of this seat and church ; 
 and if anything be wanting for the holy 
 religious service, I will supply it of my 
 royal bounty.' " 
 
 Of course the general desire of tourists and 
 visitors is to ascend the magnificent cliifs, and 
 with due care the desire may be successfully 
 satisfied. Then, what a delightful view is 
 obtained, what a bracing air is breathed, what 
 a glorious glow fills the frame and brightens
 
 Cheddar. 63 
 
 the whole being ! There is medicine for the 
 mind, and a balm for the body. 
 
 And where is Cheddar situated ? How 
 many days does it take to reach ? Cheddar is 
 situated in Somerset, and is only about 22 
 miles from Bristol ! You change at Yatton (a 
 station or two past Bristol) for it, and it may 
 be reached from any part of England in a few 
 hours. Yet we are afraid that to the great 
 majority of the English people the unique 
 charms of Cheddar are entirely unknown.
 
 FROM 
 
 EXETER TO NEWTON 
 ABBOTT, 
 
 OVER THE 
 
 GREAT HALDON HILLS. 
 
 N the rush and turmoil and rapid 
 locomotion of these later days the 
 humble efforts of the " tramp " are 
 not unlikely to be overlooked. Yet 
 the traveller afoot possesses many 
 advantages over the traveller by rail, the 
 cyclist, or the horseman. True, he cannot 
 cover the same extent of country in the same 
 time, but what he does see if he chooses he 
 can see well. To him the country is not one 
 swift succession of panoramic views, leaving" 
 the memory as rapidly as the scene changes, 
 but a closer acquaintance a friend who will
 
 Exeter to Newton Abbott. 65 
 
 stand him in good stead when the fleeting 
 friendships of human kind fade and vanish 
 away. 
 
 It is to the pedestrian alone that the chiefest 
 beauties of nature are known. It is he who 
 can traverse best the wild heights of Exmoor 
 and Dartmoor ; and the cool brown streams 
 that rush and tumble down their slopes are 
 his particular delight ; and the meadow paths 
 are they not sacred to his footfall ? 
 
 And if one has not too tender a conscience 
 as to landowners' rights, and can never see 
 that " Trespassers will be prosecuted," what 
 a wealth of information is to be reaped by the 
 hedgerow or in the pathless wood with their 
 infinite variety. Then again the exhilarations 
 of walking, the vagabond existence, the 
 independence of everybody and everything, 
 and the necessity for taking little thought as 
 to the hours that fly are conducive to cheerful 
 spirits. 
 
 JOHN BURROUGHS has said that the devil is 
 a bad walker. It is quite certain he rides 
 whenever he can, and the good walker need 
 never doubt his ability to leave him behind. 
 Surely this is an advantage worth striving 
 after, and one capable of giving the pedestrian
 
 66 In the Verdant West. 
 
 an enjoyment the traveller by other methods 
 wots not of. 
 
 Of all our English counties there is none 
 perhaps so dear to the heart of the walker as 
 the County of Devon the " Eden of the 
 West." And one of the not least attractive 
 of the many beautiful rambles it contains is 
 that from Exeter to Chudleigh and Newton 
 Abbott, keeping as far as possible along the 
 ridge of the Great Haldon Hills. For the 
 first three miles or more the way lies along 
 the high road to Moreton Hampstead until by 
 a succession of "round rising hillocks" and 
 " high delightful plain " we reach the village 
 of Longdown and high ground. 
 
 Turning through a lane to the left we now 
 commence to touch the Haldon heights. 
 This range of hills extending in a southerly 
 direction to close upon Dawlish and Teign- 
 mouth is of an almost uniform height of 800 
 feet. Tempted by the shade afforded on the 
 edge of the wood by which the lane continues 
 to wind, the instructions of the guide book to 
 take the first branch to the right are forgotten, 
 and ere long it is discovered that the way has 
 been missed. 
 
 A halt is made and bearings taken, when it
 
 Exeter to Newton Abbott. 67 
 
 is discovered that by striking across the fields 
 the right direction can be regained. Crossing 
 a ploughed field a pleasant hillside meadow is 
 reached where the cattle chewing the cud 
 look with placid wonder at the intruders upon 
 their privacy. 
 
 Descending into a valley a pleasant little 
 brook is reached. Standing on the rustic 
 footbridge and listening to the murmur of the 
 waters, we hear it speaking the language 
 TENNYSON has so beautifully translated : 
 
 " I come from haunts of coot and hern, 
 I make a sudden sally, 
 
 And sparkle out among the fern 
 To bicker down a valley." 
 
 Oblivious of the presence of mankind the 
 wagtail makes his graceful way in the shal- 
 low stream, and in the distance where the 
 brook is overhung with a brambly wilderness 
 and where the primrose grows in rich pro- 
 fusion, offering its delicate petals to the 
 morning sun, are two little bonny bonneted 
 maidens making amid the fresh green her- 
 bage a pretty study in pink and green. 
 
 After another hill has been climbed we 
 suddenly find ourselves dropped into the 
 hamlet of Dunchidiock. " Far from the busy 
 haunts of men " this little village is most
 
 68 In the Verdant West. 
 
 romantically placed in the hollow between 
 two hills. Favoured with a charming little 
 church, surrounded by tall elms, just now 
 alive with the " caw and clamour " of the 
 rooks, and studded with orchards, this would 
 indeed be a haven of rest wherein to dream 
 one's life away. 
 
 From this point the tower of the triple 
 sided " Belvedere " is only a short distance. 
 It is situated on the highest point of the hills 
 and was built for the sake of the view which 
 can only be seen from the tower, the hills 
 at this point being thickly wooded. But alas 
 for that selfishness which sometimes charac- 
 terises even people in high places, it is now 
 closed to the public. After leaving the woods 
 and reaching the open moor, the way lies 
 along the ridge of the hill, and we obtain 
 a magnificent view of the surrounding coun- 
 try. On the east we see wide stretches of 
 well cultivated field, and trim set hedge. 
 Nearer at hand are Exmouth and the mouth 
 of the Exe. To the north-east Exeter lies 
 sleepily in the sun, backed by the Blackdown 
 hills. Then to the north we see JAN RIDD'S 
 well-beloved Exmoor, and on the far west 
 her elder sister Dartmoor raises her rugged
 
 Exeter to Newton Abbott. 69 
 
 heights, the intervening space being filled 
 by the rich and fertile valley watered by one 
 of the most beautiful of Devon rivers, the 
 Teign. 
 
 It is a sight to make one's heart beat 
 quicker with a new and happier sense of 
 life. We feel how appropriate was the de- 
 scription by the celebrated American Natur- 
 alist already quoted, when such sights induced 
 him to affectionately call our country "mellow 
 England." The morning sun is now well up. 
 It is one of Spring's earliest days, and the 
 trees are putting forth the " tender bud of 
 hope," the elms have just that soft tinge of 
 green which hides not the delicate network 
 of branches but makes them beautiful indeed. 
 
 Circling aloft in airy space the larks are 
 pouring out their paean in a torrent of tumul- 
 tuous melody. In the tall trees, which here 
 and there skirt the moor, we hear the cheery 
 note of the chiff-chaff, one of Spring's ear- 
 liest harbingers, the yellow-hammers in their 
 bright plumage and filled with the bliss of 
 early courting days are everywhere, and even 
 an early butterfly is on the wing. All nature 
 is gay, and an air of abandon pervadeth 
 everything.
 
 70 In the Verdant West. 
 
 After pursuing the track on the hill-top 
 for some distance, the direct road from Exeter 
 to Chudleigh crosses the hill, and taking 
 this road the quiet little town is reached. 
 It is very picturesquely situated, but in itself 
 there is little to interest the stranger. Some 
 short distance, however, beyond the town are 
 some blue limestone rocks, rising abruptly, 
 and forming a striking feature in the land- 
 scape. The rocks have a fine covering of 
 trees. 
 
 From the top the view is very beautiful, 
 covering on one side the whole of the valley 
 of the Teign with the deep blue mass of 
 Dartmoor for a background. On the other 
 side there is a pretty view of the romantic 
 little glen which winds at the back of the 
 rock, with a stream dancing and bounding 
 over rock and through fern, and forming here 
 and there delightful little cascades. Half- 
 way up the rock is a cave called the " Pixies' 
 Parlour," which, tradition says, was visited 
 by COLERIDGE. It is reached by an uneven 
 passage of some 135 feet, and in the principal 
 cavity is an incrustation called the "Pope's 
 Head." Below the rock also there is a 
 cavern ending in an abyss.
 
 Exeter to Newton Abbott. 71 
 
 The way from Chudleigh to Newton 
 Abbott, a distance of five miles, lies along 
 a pleasant highway. The day is coming 
 to its close. The moon in the glory of its 
 fulness is rising slowly up the East, whilst 
 bathed in a flood of crimson light the sun 
 is sinking to its setting behind the Western 
 Dartmoor Hills, tipping their rugged heights 
 with purple colour. 
 
 A quiet fills the pleasant evening air, and 
 a music steals into the soul 
 
 " A music that gentlier on the spirit lies, 
 Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes." 
 A thrush is warbling his evening lay, and 
 as we stay to listen he gives us again his 
 "first long careless rapture," and we hear 
 from yonder distant elm the answer of some 
 fellow songster. Pursuing our way, some 
 yellow beaked blackbird, disturbed by the 
 footfall on the evening air, with unnecessary 
 and startled cry, bursts from the hedge 
 bottom and makes for a more secure retreat. 
 
 The sun has now quite gone, and the 
 silvery moon shines upon a nature apparently 
 at rest. Before reaching Newton we cross 
 the Teign, upon which the moon casts its 
 broken reflection ; and in the distance we
 
 72 In the Verdant West. 
 
 see the tops of groups of firs floating upon 
 a sea of mist. 
 
 Newton is reached at last, and we are 
 filled with satisfaction the satisfaction only 
 known to the lover of the country when he 
 feels that he has garnered up another stock 
 of anecdote, of scenes, dear, delightful, and 
 detailed, which will serve in the years to 
 come, before the lamps are lighted, to 
 interest the children round his knee, and 
 when the feet have lost their former nimble- 
 ness, and the eyes their brightness, to weave 
 a tender garland of memories which shall 
 ease the decline to that " bourn from whence 
 no traveller returns/' and give us "light at 
 evening time."
 
 ACROSS DARTMOOR. 
 
 j-ROM Ivybridge to Princetown, across 
 the wild and rugged Dartmoor, is a 
 magnificent walk. The distance is 
 about sixteen miles. Glorious 
 weather prevailed on the day that 
 we started on such a perambulation, and right 
 well we enjoyed the varied and beautiful 
 pictures that Nature continually unfolded 
 before us as we proceeded on our journey. 
 For the purpose of getting a view of the 
 best scenery in the locality we decided to 
 do our walking as far as possible by the 
 side of the Erme, a river of great picturesque- 
 ness. 
 
 Up to as far as the hamlet of Harford, one 
 comes across nothing but the prettiest views 
 and sweetest sights. Trees of all sorts and
 
 74 In the Verdant West. 
 
 sizes, with their bending branches shielding 
 the sun from the faces of admiring wanderers, 
 run on either side of the silvery stream, whose 
 merry murmurs as it proceeds along its rocky 
 bed fall like music on the ear. A halo of 
 happiness and harmony exists all round. 
 Everything breathes of beauty and freshness. 
 Even the birds seem to be inspired with the 
 loveliness of the scene, and warble away to 
 their heart's content. Who could fail to enjoy 
 a walk through such a spot r The wonder is 
 that more do not make an effort to visit such 
 beautiful places so near at hand. 
 
 Harford reached, we decide to continue our 
 walk by the side of the river to its source, 
 and then to go over the hills till we arrive at 
 Princetown. Immediately on leaving Harford 
 we could fairly be said to be -on Dartmoor, 
 and there is an end to the picturesque and 
 sylvan scenery which has been for over two 
 miles affording us so much pleasure and 
 delight. Now we have come to the wild, the 
 romantic, and sublime. Here are no trees to 
 shade one from the warm rays of the sun ; 
 here is no beaten track, or pathway, along 
 which one may safely trod ; all is open and 
 wild, rough and rugged. Yet the sight is a
 
 Across Dartmoor, 75 
 
 grand one. The opinion one forms of it is 
 briefly thus " Like the fragments of an earlier 
 world." 
 
 CARRINGTON appropriately describes Dart- 
 moor as " the source of half the beauty of 
 Devon's austral meads," and while he mourns 
 over its native barrenness, justly celebrates its 
 importance to the whole surrounding region 
 in the bountiful economy of Him who 
 " sendeth His springs into the rivers which 
 run among the hills." Rich in Celtic remains, 
 Dartmoor also in later times is, says one of its 
 admirers, an ancient stannary district, and 
 the Royal Forest urges many claims to our 
 attention, whilst in its present state, and as a 
 field of scientific research, an origin of 
 picturesque and romantic scenery, and the 
 asylum of old world customs and languages, 
 it can scarcely fail to excite the interest not 
 only of those whose local partialities might 
 be supposed to influence, but of others who 
 hold with the great English moralist that 
 " whatever withdraws us from the power of 
 the senses, whatever makes the past, the 
 distant, and the future predominate over the 
 present advances us in the dignity of thinking 
 beings."
 
 76 In the Verdant West. 
 
 No one can cross over Dartmoor without 
 having his mind elevated, his thoughts invigo- 
 rated, and his love of Nature increased and 
 strengthened. The imposing hills speckled 
 with huge pieces of rock and crowned with 
 formidable tors, the mountain streams that 
 seem to have chosen the steepest places to 
 come down for the sake of the leaps, and 
 the general wildness of the situation all serve 
 to impress the mind and please the eye. 
 Surely no one possessed of a particle of 
 sensibility can climb Dartmoor's tor-crowned 
 steeps, traverse its rock-strewn ravines, or 
 penetrate its trackless morasses without feel- 
 ing that all around bears the stamp of " un- 
 recorded antiquity." Whichever way one 
 looks one sees Nature in all her rudeness, in 
 all her might, in all her impressive grandeur. 
 
 " Nature is the engineer that fortified the 
 heights thousands of years ago, hers are the 
 massive walls, hers the mighty bastions, hers 
 the granite glacis down to the roaring torrent 
 below, hers the hand that reared those stu- 
 pendous citadels, which fable might have 
 garrisoned with demi-gods and beleaguered 
 with Titans, whilst in the recumbent mass 
 that guards the approach, imagination, with
 
 Across Dartmoor. 77 
 
 scarcely an effort, might discern an Archetype 
 and a mystic Sphinz in kindred porphry of 
 proportions far more colossal, and of date far 
 more ancient than that which still looks forth 
 in serene and lonely grandeur over the saints 
 of the Memphian desert." 
 
 True, indeed, it is that it is only on Dart- 
 moor itself that the graphic accuracy and 
 poetic beauty of CARRiNGTON's descriptions 
 can be appreciated, when with master hand 
 he sketches the characteristic features of the 
 scene which seems to transport one, in the 
 moment from the richly cultivated and thickly 
 peopled provinces of England to some un- 
 explored and desert track in the remotest 
 regions of the globe : 
 
 Devonians dreary Alps and now I feel 
 
 The influence of that impressive calm 
 
 That is upon them. Nothing that has life 
 
 Is visible ; no solitary flock 
 
 At wide will, ranging through the silent moors, 
 
 Breaks the deep-felt monotony ; and all 
 
 Is motionless, save where the giant shades 
 
 Flung by the passing cloud, glide slowly o'er 
 
 The grey and gloomy wild. 
 
 To get a commanding view of the grim, 
 awful desolation of Dartmoor, one wants to 
 ascend Yes Tor (pronounced by Devonshire 
 people, East Tor), the highest of all the Tors.
 
 78 In the Verdant West. 
 
 From his elevated position the visitor will be 
 struck with the grandness of the swelling 
 distant outline as the rays of the sun light 
 up the heather and moss, diversifying the dark 
 shadows of the Tors with the different tints 
 of green that prevail around. Severely soli- 
 tary Dartmoor most certainly is, and would 
 be, one would think, the last place where 
 anybody would live. Yet 
 
 E'en here 
 
 Man, rude untutor'd man, has lived and left 
 Rude traces of existence. 
 
 Yes, in passing over Dartmoor one comes 
 across unmistakeable evidences that human 
 beings have taken up their abode there, and 
 some of the remains of the ancient inhabi- 
 tants are most interesting to inspect. To the 
 thoughtful mind they are, to say the least, 
 singularly suggestive. The Rev. SAMUEL 
 MANNING, LL.D., and the Rev. S. G. GREEN, 
 D.D., in one of their volumes on " English 
 Pictures," after dwelling on the grim lone- 
 liness of Dartmoor, go on to say : 
 
 "The slopes by which Dartmoor descends 
 to the lowlands around are beautiful. In 
 tact, the mighty granite mass is girdled by 
 an investiture of fair glens and smiling vil- 
 lages, which make the circuit of it a succes-
 
 Across Dartmoor. 79 
 
 sion of some of the brightest pictures that 
 England can anywhere present in the same 
 compass. The drive from Okehampton to 
 Chagford, or to Moreton Hampstead, for in- 
 stance, is of wonderful charm. Near the 
 former village, the river descends over rocks 
 and boulders in richly wooded glen, as beau- 
 tiful in parts as Dovedale. The rivers indeed 
 which come down on all sides from Dartmoor 
 are the glory of Devonshire. Beside the 
 Teign there is the Dart itself, one headstream 
 of which rises near the well-known prison at 
 Prince Town, with the Taw, Tavy, Avon, 
 Erme, Plym, and streamlets innumerable. 
 
 "Travellers in favourable weather will do 
 well to cross Dartmoor by the coach road 
 from Moreton Hampstead to Tavistock, past 
 the big, gloomy prison, appropriately placed 
 in the very wildest and most desolate part 
 of the whole region. Or, as we did, making 
 Okehampton their headquarters, they may 
 pass on by train by way of Lidford. The 
 railway is carried in places at a great height, 
 on the open edge of the moor, which it curi- 
 ously fringes ; it seems essentially a holiday 
 line ; there is no hurry, and the traveller, as 
 he passes along, may leisurely survey the
 
 8o In the Verdant West. 
 
 frowning heights above, or the fair valley be- 
 low, according to his choice. 
 
 " Lidford station being reached, we left the 
 train, and found ourselves in an unfinished 
 looking spot, with little outwardly to attract. 
 Having, hovever, received directions how to 
 proceed, we crossed a farmyard, where some 
 cattle with stupendous horns looked and lowed 
 at us in a manner trying to the nerves, then, 
 emerging near a river bank, made our way for 
 less than a mile up the stream, on a grassy 
 path, beneath overhanging woods, when at a 
 sudden turn up a glen that opened to the main 
 stream, the gleam of waters caught the eye at 
 the first glance like some tall spirit of the 
 dell, glimmering through the foliage that 
 enshrouded it. A more beautiful cascade is 
 hardly to be seen in England, when Dartmoor 
 has had abundance of rain. At other times, 
 they say, a miller can turn on a supply of 
 water, else thriftily economised for his needs. 
 Happily, no such artificial arrangement was 
 needful on the occasion of our visit ; and we 
 remained long admiring the lovely picture." 
 
 But to return to the walk. We have still 
 several miles to traverse before we reach our 
 destination Princetown. Fortunately, we
 
 Across Dartmoor. 81 
 
 have a compass to guide us, for we now find 
 the " guide book " of little use. Towering 
 hills face one whichever way one turns, and 
 now and then one comes to a piece of flat 
 land, which is more often than not of a boggy 
 character. Running down its rocky bed 
 between high hills is the river Erme, the 
 water in innumerable places falling over huge 
 stones with great velocity and producing 
 masses of the purest foam. By half-past four 
 we should have reached Princetown, but it is 
 much later than that, and alas ! we know not 
 where we are, save that we are in a maze. 
 Truth will prevail. We have lost ourselves 
 among the towering hills ! Ringing in our 
 ears are the inspiring Latin words nil 
 desperandum. Neither do we despair, but on, 
 on we push, climbing up and staggering 
 down ; not a solitary soul can we see nothing 
 but hills, hills, hills ! Dusk will soon be 
 coming on, and we begin seriously to think 
 that we shall have to spend the night on 
 wild and rugged Dartmoor. Thank goodness 
 we have some brandy and biscuits with us. 
 We look at the compass again ; it tells us 
 we are out of our course, and points us to 
 another direction. We turn round, and move
 
 82 In the Verdant West. 
 
 onward with every speed, although even now 
 we doubt whether we are really making for 
 Princetown. However, we do not give in. 
 Yet we feel that this is our last chance, for 
 another half-hour or so and darkness will 
 have set in, and then we shall be obliged 
 to come to a halt. So up the hills we climb, 
 and over the lumpy land we trod. We come 
 across sheep ; human habitation cannot be 
 far off. My companion thinks otherwise. 
 
 We are on the top of a Tor. We stand 
 still ; we gaze around. Yes, there are two or 
 three houses to the left, and not a mile away. 
 The sun has disappeared behind the hills ; 
 darkness is hovering around. We look again 
 at the houses. What if they are only Celtic 
 remains ? We drive such a thought from our 
 minds, and are determined to get across to 
 the buildings. But can we ? Between us and 
 the houses is a long stretch of boggy land, 
 and of such land we have been repeatedly 
 warned to keep clear. If we attempt to cross 
 it we may sink in up to our waists and not 
 be able to get out ! Yet if we remain all 
 night on Dartmoor we may perish of cold ! 
 We decide to push on. Down the hill we 
 go, on to the bog we tread. In we sink,
 
 Across Dartmoor. 83 
 
 but only a few inches. However, we retrace 
 our steps and try another spot. We meet 
 with a similar experience, but the houses for 
 houses we can now see they are are not 
 more than a quarter of a mile off, and are 
 staring us in the face. We again attempt to 
 cross the bog, and this time we succeed, but 
 we get thoroughly wet. That matters very 
 little, for we are on terra firma now, and in 
 a few minutes will have reached the houses. 
 We breathe freely again, knowing that we 
 have escaped a night and a cold, misty 
 night it proved to be on Dartmoor. 
 
 On reaching the houses we are informed 
 that we are some two miles off Princetown, 
 and that a road by the side of the Moor will 
 take us to it. We return thanks for the in- 
 formation, and push on, and get safely to 
 Princetown. We put up at the Duchy Hotel, 
 where we receive every attention and comfort. 
 After a good hot supper we chat over a 
 blazing fire about our somewhat long and 
 adventurous walk, and then retire for the 
 night. How thoroughly we enjoyed our re- 
 pose can be better imagined than described.
 
 DUNSTER AND 
 MlNEHEAD. 
 
 [MONG the many picturesque places 
 in the West but few can surpass 
 Dunster and Minehead in point of 
 general attractiveness. These two 
 places may be reached in a com- 
 paratively short time from both Bridgwater 
 and Taunton. Only a mile or two apart, 
 Dunster and Minehead afford one, so far as 
 scenery is concerned, all that is requisite for 
 an enjoyable day's outing. Situated in, per- 
 haps, the most beautiful portion of Somerset, 
 the two places are the delight of all tourists. 
 
 At Dunster the Castle, the seat of Mr. G. 
 F. LUTTRELL, J.P., (and a fortress of very 
 considerable antiquity), is a leading attraction, 
 and if permission is procured the visitor will
 
 Dunster and Minehead. 85 
 
 thoroughly enjoy a stroll through the lovely 
 grounds. From them some splendid scenery 
 will meet the eye. Which-ever way one 
 turns some fresh glory of Nature presents 
 itself, and the farther one wanders the more 
 charming the scenes appear to become. 
 
 It was on a perfect July day that we found 
 ourselves at Dunster, proceeding without de- 
 lay, and with eager anticipations, to the 
 Castle grounds. Walking up the town en- 
 trance the first thing to arrest our attention 
 is an old tower of EDWARD I's time, and then 
 we come to an ancient gateway also said to 
 date back to the time of EDWARD I, while a 
 short walk farther on brings us to the terrace 
 at the south of the Castle. Stretched out 
 before us is a magnificent view. It needs a 
 SALVATOR ROSA, with his pencil dipped in 
 sunshine, to adequately depict such a scene. 
 Out in the distance, calm as a lake and 
 noiseless as the air, gleams 
 
 The sea, the sea, the open sea, 
 The ever wide, the ever free ! 
 
 while on all sides and at varying distances 
 are full-foliaged trees, adding to the pic- 
 turesqueness of the undulating country with 
 its gentle hills and brooding clouds ; and
 
 86 In the Verdant West. 
 
 the eye as it travels through vistas of leafy- 
 boughs, to still secluded pastures where the 
 oxen are quietly grazing, and scans a scene 
 so peaceful and serene, is dazzled and satis- 
 fied to a degree. Just behind us running 
 up the side of the Castle is a fine lemon 
 tree a rarity in our climate and its fruit- 
 fulness is proved by the many lemons tempt- 
 ingly hanging on the branches. Continuing 
 along the terrace the next object of interest 
 we come to is a greenhouse in which are 
 to be seen some magnificent palms. The 
 greenhouse occupies the spot where formerly 
 stood the private chapel. A few more steps, 
 and we are rewarded with a sight of a beauti- 
 ful fountain, the centre piece of which is in 
 the shape of the family crest a swan with 
 outspread wings. Around the fountain is a 
 well laid out piece of ground, the border of 
 flowers being particularly pretty. 
 
 Not far from here another grand view of the 
 majestic sea and charming country is to be 
 obtained, and the truth of the assertion that 
 Nature indeed provides, without stint, the 
 main requisites of human happiness is fully 
 realised. Time flies, and we must not linger, 
 so we proceed up the gently sloping path
 
 Dunster and Mine head. 87 
 
 leading to the bowling green, and an ex- 
 tremely pretty walk it is. Thick greenery 
 flanks each side of the path, and now and 
 then a good glimpse may be had of North 
 Hill, and the beautiful country below. The 
 best view, however, is yet to come. The 
 bowling green is at last reached, and now we 
 may be said to be in one of the finest 
 positions for getting a really good view of 
 the unique scenery around us. As for the 
 bowling green, it is not over large, but is 
 exceeding neat and tasteful, and has an 
 almost circular border of trees and shrubs, 
 while at certain corners and in suitable spots 
 are a variety of choice plants and pretty 
 flowers. Straight across the green, opposite 
 to the entrance, a splendid view is obtainable 
 right away to Dunkerry Beacon, the highest 
 point of Exmoor. On the right is the Roman 
 camp to which the deer park leads (the deer 
 park by the bye contains 400 deer), then there 
 is a large stretch of undulating country look- 
 ing lovely, the thick foliage occasionally re- 
 lieved with patches of gold created by the 
 smiling corn-fields, and dotted here and there 
 are belts of stately trees, the whole making 
 up a picture at once delightful and impres-
 
 88 In the Verdant West. 
 
 sive. The temperature on this summit is 
 most delicious. The chill of early dawn is 
 succeeded by an agreeable warmth, and as 
 the sunshine lights up the glorious foliage 
 and produces a scintillation on the sea, one 
 realises " all that the magic art of the painter 
 or the glowing words of the poet have pic- 
 tured as their ideals of terrestrial beauty." 
 
 At the south end of the bowling green is 
 a watch tower which dates back to the time 
 of EDWARD I, and from its interior a com- 
 manding view of the Bristol Channel is to 
 be had. Hanging on the walls inside the 
 tower are some ancient pictures representing 
 the different nations of old. The tower 
 having been inspected we descend what is 
 known as the bowling green walk, bordering 
 which are some very old trees, our guide 
 pointing out a yew said to be over 600 years 
 of age. The walk brings us to the south 
 terrace again which the library faces, and 
 from which a grand view is obtained of the 
 sea, the Quantocks, and the Alabaster rocks. 
 A move is next made to the principal entrance 
 to the Castle, and from the terrace on the 
 left hand side one gets a sight of a lovely 
 landscape which baffles all description. Close
 
 Dunster and Minehead. 89 
 
 to the terrace is a cedar tree also stated to 
 be 600 years old, and needless to say it was 
 the cynosure of all eyes. 
 
 The castle as viewed from the principal 
 entrance is an imposing and stately looking 
 structure. The right part of it is after the 
 Elizabethan style of architecture, while the 
 left part is comparatively new, having only 
 been erected about twenty years. A remnant 
 of the old castle built in EDWARD Ill's time 
 is within a few steps of the present castle, 
 which came into Mr. G. F. LUTTRELL'S 
 possession on the death of his uncle, HENRY 
 FOWNES LUTTRELL, in 1867. Over the point 
 of the arch are several escutcheons of the 
 LUTTRELLS and their inter-marriages, with 
 the family crest and motto " Qusesita marte 
 tuenda arte " (what is gained by war is to be 
 protected by art). During the civil wars, 
 Colonel WYNDHAM garrisoned the castle in 
 favour of CHARLES I. WILLIAM PRYNNE, 
 the celebrated revolutionist, was committed 
 by the Long Parliament to imprisonment 
 within Dunster Castle. Within recent years 
 the castle has been restored, and the grounds 
 have been considerably beautified ; and it will 
 be within the recollection of many of our
 
 go In the Verdant West. 
 
 readers that, when the Prince of Wales visited 
 the West for stag-hunting in 1878, he was 
 the guest of Mr. LUTTRELL. In front of this 
 principal entrance to the Castle, Captain 
 LUTTRELL entered into a chat with us. He 
 considered that that part of Somersetshire 
 was one of the most lovely country districts 
 in the United Kingdom. Not only did 
 persons living in the county of Somerset say 
 so, but people who had been in all parts and 
 all countries. Almost every person who 
 visited Dunster and Minehead declared he 
 had never seen more charming scenery, and 
 that was something of which those living in 
 Somersetshire might well be proud. Captain 
 LUTTRELL informed us that at the top of the 
 hills we should find encampments which 
 would carry us back to the times when 
 Englishmen had not come into existence, 
 and also encampments which would remind 
 us of the old Roman days. He very 
 kindly expressed a hope that we should 
 return home having spent a pleasant and 
 instructive outing. We thanked the gallant 
 Captain for his courtesy and proceeded down 
 the drive and through the village to the rail- 
 way station.
 
 Dunster and Minehead. 91 
 
 A short train ride soon brought us to 
 Minehead, where dinner was partaken of, and 
 the remainder of the day spent. We explored 
 the village, lounged on the sands, and rambled 
 over the noble hills, which are well worth 
 ascending. Once the top of the hills is 
 gained, a scene of glorious grandeur meets 
 the explorer's eye. The landscape is one in 
 which sea and country are never sundered. 
 The higher one climbs the more striking is 
 the beauty of the sea which seems to rise as 
 one ascends and stretch into the sky. On 
 another side of one, down in what appears to 
 be a large valley, are a number of miniature 
 looking houses, surrounded by majestic trees, 
 while corn fields add a bright colouring to the 
 scene, the effect of which is completed by the 
 various hills around. No one could wish to 
 look upon a more delightful picture. 
 
 Minehead is a quaint little seaport, market 
 town and parish, lying on the Southern shore 
 of the Bristol Channel. It comes within the 
 Archdeaconry of Taunton, and diocese of 
 Bath and Wells. A curious circumstance 
 about it is its division into three parts Quay 
 Town, Lower Town, and Higher Town. The 
 first is the port, and consists of one long street
 
 92 In the Verdant West. 
 
 running by the side of the harbour and sea. 
 The Lower Town contains the principal shops, 
 hotels, and the parade, where there are some 
 good residences and lodging houses, and a 
 fine row of private residences called " The 
 Parks." Higher Town includes the Church, 
 the vicarage, and a few shops and other 
 houses. Although a place of under two 
 thousand inhabitants, Minehead has been 
 singularly unfortunate with regard to fires, as 
 many as ninety houses having been burnt 
 down on one occasion. 
 
 In 1875 a large hotel and a terrace of 
 lodging houses, commanding a grand view of 
 the sea, were erected near the railway 
 terminus, and several smart-looking resid- 
 ences were being built in the Avenue and 
 Park Street last year (1889). Minehead is 
 certainly a growing place, and increases 
 yearly in popularity. Its picturesque situa- 
 tion pleases everyone, and those seeking a 
 change of air and scene cannot do better than 
 pay Minehead a visit. The town is lighted 
 with gas, by a company from works situated 
 at Quay Town, and is plentifully supplied 
 with water, obtained from the neighbouring 
 hills.
 
 Dunster and Minehead. 93 
 
 There are one or two very old and very 
 interesting Churches in the town, the com- 
 munion table in St. Michael's being an 
 ancient and richly carved one. The Town 
 Hall, for so small a place as Minehead, is a 
 beautiful building, and here some companies 
 of real merit give occasional performances. 
 
 In the old market place are eleven alms- 
 houses, and on the brass plate over the door 
 of No. 5 is the following curious inscription: 
 " Robert Quirck, son of James Quirck, built 
 this house, ano. 1630, and doth give into the 
 use of the poore of this parish for ever, and 
 for better maintenance I do give my two inner 
 sellers at the inner ende of the key (quay), and 
 cursed be that man that shall convert it to 
 any other use than to the use of the poore, 
 1630. God's providence is my inheritance. 
 R.Q." We gather that the founder, by his 
 will dated July 4, 1648, gave ^200 for the 
 support and repair of the almshouses. 
 
 As regards the harbour it is considered to 
 be one of the best and safest in the Bristol 
 Channel, but it seems that owing to the heavy 
 harbour dues the trade is much restricted. 
 
 Very pleasant is a stroll along the esplanade 
 in the evening, the cool breezes from the
 
 94 In ^e Verdant West. 
 
 ocean being little short of " a boon and a 
 blessing," after the warmth of the day's sun. 
 
 It is with feelings akin to sorrow and regret 
 that we take leave of Minehead, for it has 
 given us the best and happiest impressions. 
 
 However, at twenty minutes to nine the 
 homeward journey is made, and the full tide 
 and harvest moon, which can be seen for some 
 distance through the carriage windows, 
 provide us with further delight. Indeed the 
 night scene is almost as charming as that of 
 the day, and one is forcibly reminded of the 
 
 lines : 
 
 " How beautiful is night ! 
 
 A dewy freshness fills the silent air ; 
 
 No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, 
 
 Breaks the serene of heaven : 
 
 In full-orb'd glory yonder moon divine 
 
 Rolls through the dark blue depths ; 
 
 Beneath her steady ray 
 
 The desert circle spreads, 
 
 Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky ; 
 
 How beautiful is night ! " 
 
 All things must end, and so must a day's 
 outing. Between ten and half-past we reach 
 home to retain for many a day the most 
 delightful recollections of our trip to Dunster 
 and Minehead. 
 
 *
 
 LYNTON AND 
 LYNMOUTH. 
 
 [EAUTIFUL! beautiful!" is the verdict 
 passed on Lynton and Lynmouth by 
 visitors to these favourite Devonshire 
 
 _ resorts. 
 
 J|, The scenery they furnish is of the 
 most sylvan and varied description. 
 
 There are fine cliffs, lovely landscapes, and 
 charming cascades. 
 
 The country around has been very fittingly 
 termed the " Switzerland of England," and 
 GAINSBOROUGH once declared the neighbour- 
 hood to be " the most delightful place for a 
 landscape painter this country can boast." 
 
 It is impossible to do justice to the great 
 beauty of Lynton and Lynmouth, and neither 
 the pencil of GAINSBOROUGH nor the pen 
 of Mr. R. D. BLACKMORE, the author of 
 that popular work, " Lorna Doone," can
 
 96 In the Verdant West. 
 
 adequately depict the charms of the surroun- 
 ding country. 
 
 Lynton reached, one of the first places to be 
 visited is the " Valley of Rocks." The best 
 way to this spot is to follow the old pack road 
 to Lynmouth for a few hundred yards, and 
 then take the first turning on the left. This 
 way is called the North Walk, and is pro- 
 nounced to be one of the finest cliff walks in 
 England. 
 
 A half-a-mile's walk along this path brings 
 one to a rugged tor, which is pointed and 
 jagged in the most extraordinary manner. 
 This tor is the famous "Ragged Jack" and 
 his colleagues. 
 
 A legend is connected with this grotesque 
 group. It is to the effect that a party of 
 junketers were dancing and making merry on 
 a Sunday, and while in the midst of their 
 revelry the devil suddenly appeared and 
 turned them into stone, thus making sure 
 of them on the spot. 
 
 A few minutes after passing " Ragged 
 Jack" the "Castle Rock" comes in sight, 
 and on rounding the last turn of this splendid 
 cliff walk the whole of the grand valley bursts 
 upon you, giving you inexpressible delight.
 
 Lynton and Lynmouth. 97 
 
 What is the " Castle Rock " ? It is " a 
 huge block of stone on the summit of a moun- 
 tain of rocks piled one over the other in all 
 directions." By a winding path and steps 
 of rocks it may be quickly and safely reached, 
 and once on top a magnificent view is ob- 
 tained of the channel, cliffs and headlands. 
 The sight surpasses all description. 
 
 The legend of the " Castle Rock " is highly 
 interesting. This is it : 
 
 " Once Lynton Castle was as stately a pile 
 as any in the kingdom, though now not a 
 stone of it remains. One dark evening in the 
 fall of the year a monk of huge proportions 
 and forbidding looks came to the gate of the 
 castle and demanded hospitality in the name 
 of the Blessed Virgin. But the lady of the 
 house, disliking his gloomy brow, refused him 
 admission, whereon he drew up his stalwart 
 form to its full height, clenched his fist, and 
 vowed, * All that is thine shall be mine, until 
 in the porch of Holy Church a lady and child 
 shall stand and beckon.' 
 
 " Many years passed away, and the Church 
 of St. John was pulled down by the Baron 
 who succeeded to the manor of Lynton. In- 
 deed, so great was his greed, that he even
 
 98" In the Verdant West. 
 
 dared to lay his sacrilegious hands on the 
 holy vessels and relics. One night as he 
 sat feasting and drinking out of the holy 
 vessels, the Black Monk suddenly appeared 
 and called him to his last account. His 
 servants, aroused by his cries for help, rushed 
 in from all sides, only to find their master 
 a lifeless corpse. His only son, depressed to 
 the verge of madness by the awful doom 
 which hung over his house, took up the cross, 
 buckled on his sword and journeyed to Pales- 
 tine, where he did mighty deeds against the 
 Saracens. But go where he would the Black 
 Monk was always his companion, and never 
 left his side night or day ; and, alas ! the 
 wine pot and the smiles of women soon drew 
 him from the path of right-doing and knightly 
 deeds. Sad indeed were the hearts of mother 
 and sister when the evil tidings reached them 
 in the lone Castle of Lynton, and it was a 
 happy release for them when the reaper Death 
 brought them the repose they so ardently 
 longed for. In time the knight returned to 
 Devonshire, and passing through the valley 
 on a still quiet Sabbath morning, and hearing 
 the church bells, like a call from heaven, on 
 the balmy air of early summer, the memories
 
 Lynton and Lynmouth. 99 
 
 of his innocent childhood came upon him 
 with resistless force, awaking in his sorrow- 
 ing heart the holy feelings of long bygone 
 days. In vain the Black Monk tried to lure 
 him from the sacred fane, speaking to him 
 of bright eyes and vales of delight. He 
 paused but a moment, for in the distant porch 
 stood his mother and sister, luminous with 
 angelic light, a glory round the head of each. 
 Heavenly music filled the air as they lifted 
 up their spirit hands and beckoned. The 
 knight rushed from the evil presence of the 
 Black Monk, exclaiming, ' I come ! I come ! 
 Mother, Sister, I am saved ! O God, have 
 mercy upon me ! ' And the three were taken 
 up in a cloud of light, while angel voices 
 were heard in the air praising God and re- 
 joicing over a sinner who was saved. 
 
 " The Black Monk stood an impotent wit- 
 ness to the loss of his prey, and then hurled 
 himself headlong down the gloomy depths of 
 the abyss beneath. A mighty earthquake 
 rent the ground in all directions, the castle 
 fell to pieces and vanished, huge rocks were 
 heaved up oh all sides, and the ' Valley of 
 Rocks ' was left as an everlasting witness 
 of this convulsion of nature."
 
 ioo In the Verdant West. 
 
 Lee Abbey, the seat of Mr. C. F. BAILEY, 
 Lee Bay, and Smuggler's Leap are other 
 places of great attraction, but, perhaps, more 
 charming than all these is Woody Bay a 
 spot which gains its name from being sur- 
 rounded with woods. Abundant verdure pre- 
 vails here, and even the steep cliffs are 
 clothed with it. 
 
 A pretty streamlet wends its way through 
 the woods, and finally runs over the edge 
 of the cliff, making a delightful waterfall. 
 If the weather is fine the pleasantest way to 
 get to Woody Bay is by boat from Lyn- 
 mouth a distance of some three miles. The 
 scenery en route is of a very charming 
 character. 
 
 Watersmeet, which forms the frontispiece 
 of this book, is beyond doubt one of the 
 grandest features of Lynton, and no one who 
 sees it ever comes away dissatisfied. 
 
 The prettiest way to Watersmeet is, says 
 Mr. W. RIDDELL, of Lynmouth, through the 
 woods on the east side of the river. Leav- 
 ing Lynmouth and taking the road past the 
 Lyndale Hotel and Church of St. John, the 
 end of the village in this direction is soon 
 reached. "Ascending a short hill," proceeds
 
 Lynton aud Lynmouth. 101 
 
 Mr. RIDDELL, " and taking the path to the 
 left you will arrive at the little hamlet of 
 Middleham." 
 
 Mr. RIDDELL gives such a good description 
 of the spot that we feel we cannot do better 
 than give his own words : " Passing through 
 this quaint little place (of Middleham) and 
 following the path by the side of the river for 
 a short distance, you come to a rustic bridge ; 
 crossing this you are now fairly in the direct 
 path to Watersmeet. The rock spring, one 
 hundred yards below the bridge, is celebrated 
 for its icy coldness and the exceeding purity 
 of its water. 
 
 " Following the path through the woods, 
 past many a deep pool and rushing waterfall, 
 we before long reach the foot of a little hill 
 where the path divides. The one going 
 straight up the hill is the old path now 
 unused and almost impassable. Taking the 
 lower path brings you to a wooded hollow 
 with a small streamlet flowing through it. 
 This delightfully shady spot obtained the 
 name of ' Umbrella Corner ' a few years ago 
 from the number of artists who chose this 
 favourite point of view for painting Vellacot's 
 Pool.
 
 IO2 In the Ve.rdant West. 
 
 "This short legend is attached to the 
 pool : A certain Farmer Vellacot of Lyn had 
 been carousing at the ' Blue Ball ' Countis- 
 bury, till a late hour, and in returning home 
 he missed his way, and instead of crossing 
 the river by the stone bridge below Waters- 
 meet, strayed with uneven steps and many a 
 tumble to the spot we are now writing about. 
 Coming suddenly to. the edge of the steep 
 rocks which border the pool, he fell in 
 headlong before he had time to ascertain the 
 danger of his position. His hat, jammed 
 between two rocks, was found next day and 
 led to the pool being dragged and his body 
 recovered. 
 
 " Following the path which winds along by 
 the side of the river for about three-quarters 
 of a mile, opening new scenes of beauty at 
 every turn, you come to a stone bridge which 
 is just below Watersmeet. Here there is a 
 path on either side of the river, but it is best 
 to cross the bridge and proceed up the west 
 side till a wooden bridge is gained, 
 immediately above which the far-famed 
 Watersmeet is seen. It is well to wander 
 about in the woods and glens on either side. 
 The smaller stream to the west is very
 
 Lynton and Lynmouth. 103 
 
 beautiful, and is full of lovely bits as far as 
 * Ilsford Bridges ' (half-a-mile). 
 
 " Taking the path from Watersmeet 
 Cottage up the East Valley the first 100 yards 
 leads you up a steep ascent. There are many 
 fine peeps of the river beneath till it and the 
 path are once more side by side. At the first 
 turn a large deep pool will be found. This is 
 ' Stag Pool,' so called in consequence of a 
 
 
 
 stag having been killed here some years ago. 
 The path now runs by the side of the stream 
 through some grand wood and river scenery 
 till Wiltsham plains are reached, an open 
 spot of ground covered with furze. At the far 
 end of the plains you again enter the woods, 
 and a short walk brings you to a branch path 
 leading down to ' Long Pool.' This is a long 
 dark rocky pool down in the ever-shady 
 woods, than which nothing finer can be found 
 in the beautiful West Country. Standing at 
 the lower end and looking up stream, the 
 effect of bright sunlight glancing through the 
 trees on the fall at the higher end, and the 
 deep cool shadows on the pool itself are truly 
 glorious. Shortly after leaving ' Long Pool,' 
 the picturesque little hamlet of * Rockford ' 
 comes in view. Here the river is crossed by
 
 In the Verdant West. 
 
 a rustic wooden bridge which leads you to the 
 Rockford Inn, a comfortable little hostel 
 where the tourist is glad to rest." 
 
 As for Lynmouth, it is a wonderfully pretty 
 village, and basks in beautiful scenery. 
 
 All the approaches, from whatever point, 
 save from the sea, lie across desolate regions, 
 " so that no previous intimation is given of 
 the enchanting scenes that burst upon the 
 traveller as he descends Lynton or Countis- 
 bury Hill." 
 
 Lynmouth is a place where many happy 
 hours may be spent, and one cannot visit it 
 without feeling all the brighter and better for 
 having done so.
 
 FOR LOCK 
 
 TO 
 
 DULVERTON. 
 
 N the "far West" of the County of 
 Somerset, and touching the confines 
 of Devon, we have the third of that 
 series of hills the Mendips, the 
 Quantocks, and Exmoor which give 
 to the County its chief characteristics, and 
 supply its most charming scenery. 
 
 But of the three, despite the world wide 
 reputation given to the Mendips by the 
 magnificent Cheddar gorge, and despite the 
 lovely combes and valleys which flank the 
 Quantocks, the recollections and associations 
 of Exmoor have a more permanent and 
 abiding place in our thoughts. 
 
 More extensive, and more diversified in 
 attraction, the wilds of Exmoor have many 
 charms for many minds. To the huntsman 
 it is especially dear as being the last
 
 io6 In the Verdant West. 
 
 home in England of the wild red deer, and 
 as affording fullest measure of that excite- 
 ment and enjoyment particular to the lover 
 of the chase. 
 
 The pedestrian treads its slopes with 
 loving step, for amid and beyond a thousand 
 minute beauties of form and colour lie in 
 panorama some of the most magnificent 
 views the West of England can afford. 
 
 From the Quantocks, and beyond a wide 
 stretch of woodland and pastoral country, 
 the heights of Exmoor are indicated only 
 by the blue line that distance gives. 
 
 Descending into the valley, however, and 
 passing through the quaint little town of 
 Dunster, and more modern seaside resort 
 of Minehead, we leave behind the Quantocks 
 and commence to get a closer acquaintance 
 with the subject of our sketch. 
 
 Approaching Porlock from Minehead, 
 through the Selworthy Woods, we obtain 
 some idea of the height and grandeur of 
 great Dunkery monarch of the Western 
 hills. 
 
 Its ascent being very gradual, and the 
 summit the crowning point of what is already 
 a high level, its height can only be
 
 Porlock to Dulverton. 107 
 
 appreciated from a few points, and those 
 at some distance. 
 
 One of the best of these points is un- 
 doubtedly by the Selworthy Woods from 
 Minehead, from whence we see on the left 
 the vast and rugged mass rearing its head 
 against the sky. The sight is particularly 
 impressive in the evening hour when the 
 shadows begin to lengthen, and the hollows 
 are filled with sombre depths, making the 
 scene .always grand grander by the sense 
 of greater solitude. 
 
 Porlock, "far from the madding crowd," 
 unstartled by the shriek of locomotive, and 
 its people of a naive and pleasant simplicity, 
 is the delight of the genuine lover of nature. 
 
 In its neighbourhood are to be found a 
 combination of charms seldom to be met 
 with. Cliff scenery so rich as to give us 
 a rare foretaste of the delights of North 
 Devon, with a sea dancing in the sunlight 
 and forming a mirror of exquisite colour, 
 woodland walks and limpid stream, deep 
 and silent woods of fir, and the wild and 
 solitary hills. 
 
 For the romantic the picturesque little 
 village has material in plenty for the fancy
 
 io8 In the Verdant West. 
 
 to run riot over, for within easy distance is 
 the celebrated Doone Valley, immortalised 
 by that most charming and sympathetic 
 describer of nature, R. D. BLACKMORE, 
 and from whence the great JAN RIDD 
 obtained his bride. 
 
 That quaint old hostelry, " The Ship," 
 must not be forgotten. Here in the chimney 
 corner, where SOUTHEY sat long years ago, 
 we may gather from the courteous landlady 
 many an anecdote of interest of the cele- 
 brated Hunting Parson " JACK RUSSELL," 
 and other celebrities. 
 
 Not one of the least of the many charming 
 walks in the vicinity of Porlock is that 
 to Culbone Cove along the cliffs, a distance 
 of some three miles. Here on all sides, 
 save that which opens upon the sea, we 
 have woods of fir rising almost perpen- 
 dicularly a height of 1200 feet, and in the 
 little valley between their bases has been 
 built a church, said to be the smallest 
 complete parish church in England. It is 
 certainly very small, and would probably 
 not seat more than a dozen worshippers, 
 whilst it is completely furnished with chancel, 
 nave, turret, porch, and bell.
 
 Porlock to Dulverton, 109 
 
 Leaving Porlock we commence, almost at 
 once, the four miles climb which brings 
 us to the summit of Dunkery. The direct 
 road lies through the village of Stoke Pero, 
 but to the hardy, the way through Horner 
 Wood will be found more pleasant. 
 
 Many and oft amid the beauties of 
 this sylvan retreat have echoed the cry of 
 huntsmen in pursuit of their prey, and with 
 the waters of the stream which tumble down 
 its centre has mingled the blood of many 
 a noble stag, making there its last stand 
 for liberty and life. 
 
 This wood reaches some distance up the 
 slope of the hill, and when the end is 
 reached a few hundred feet of sturdy climbing 
 through the heather will find us on one of 
 the highest points in the West of England. 
 
 And if the day is clear, how well have 
 we been repaid our climb, for the scene which 
 meets the eye can scarcely be excelled. 
 
 To the north across the Bristol Channel 
 we see the Welsh Coast, and the distant 
 Welsh Hills, with Berkeley and Raglan 
 Castles, whilst farther to the north east the 
 fainter blue indicates the Malverns. To the 
 east the range of view covers the fertile vale
 
 no In the Verdant West. 
 
 backed by the Quantocks. On the west 
 we have the beautiful North Devon scenery, 
 and in the far distance the broad Atlantic. 
 Whilst to the South our vision is only 
 bounded by Exmoor's great rival Dartmoor. 
 If our visit be in the early Autumn, we 
 are doubly repaid our climb, for below and 
 around us on every side lie vast stretches 
 of heather in full flower. Here and there 
 the heather will be broken by a mass of 
 fern turning colour with advancing age, and 
 the whole gives a rich blending of purple 
 and gold. 
 
 When we have feasted our eyes on this 
 rare scenic treat, we bend our steps 
 towards the South, and shortly reach the 
 village of Exford, the headquarters of the 
 Devon and Somerset Staghounds. About 
 three miles from Exford we touch the Barle 
 at Withypool : This is one of the many 
 lovely rivers with which the West abound, 
 and if one winds with its stream to Dulverton 
 although it doubles the distance he will 
 reap a rich harvest of delight. 
 
 RICHARD JEFFRIES, when residing on the 
 Quantocks shortly before his death, visited 
 the beautiful wooded valley through which
 
 Porlock to Dulverton. 1 1 1 
 
 the river runs to Dulverton, and in an article 
 in the " English Illustrated Magazine," 
 in language such as he could only use, 
 describes what he affectionately calls the 
 " brown beautiful Barle." 
 
 From Withypool to Dulverton, a distance 
 of some sixteen miles, the river meanders 
 among the hills, embowered the whole 
 distance in foliage, and the eye is constantly 
 being charmed with some new peep of 
 beauty. 
 
 So little is this lovely spot known, that 
 one may walk almost the whole distance 
 without meeting a human being. Perhaps 
 the best time of the year to explore the 
 valley is the month of June. Then the trees 
 have burst into a new garniture of green, 
 and the whole animal and vegetable kingdoms 
 waking anew under the genial warmth of 
 summer are enjoying life to the full. 
 
 To the botanist a wide and fruitful field 
 of exploration is opened ; the entomologist 
 will find its resources unbounded. Here each 
 will be rewarded with many rare specimens of 
 the myriad and wonderful forms of plant and 
 insect life. The skilful angler, too, will not 
 cast his fly in vain on the clear brown stream.
 
 ii2 In the Verdant West. 
 
 Between Withypool and Dulverton are the 
 " Hawkridge Steps," a rough bridge across 
 the river, formed of huge slabs of stone. 
 The bridge has existed from time immemorial 
 and its origin is locally ascribed to the 
 agency of the Devil. 
 
 We wind by the river some five miles or 
 so after leaving the primitive and interesting 
 structure, when suddenly, on our left, we 
 find the outskirts of the town of Dulverton. 
 Here the Barle unites with and merges its 
 existence in the Exe another of those 
 beautiful streams which find their birth 
 amongst the wild heights of Exmoor, and 
 the exploration of which will afford the 
 lover of nature some of the most delightful 
 recollections of a lifetime.
 
 BlDEFORD AND 
 
 CLOVELLY. 
 
 ^OMEWHERE we have read that a 
 British nobleman "travelling abroad" 
 was so impressed with the grandness 
 of a certain scene that he exclaimed, 
 " Surely there is no other view like 
 this in the world ! " 
 
 "I am told, my lord," said the guide, "that 
 there is but one" mentioning a view in 
 Scotland. 
 
 "Why," replied the nobleman, " that is on 
 my own estate, and I have never seen it ! " 
 
 Doubtful as the anecdote may be historic- 
 ally, yet the idea it conveys is a very true one. 
 The number of English people acquainted
 
 ii4 I n th e Verdant West. 
 
 with the beauties of their own country is 
 comparatively small, and when one visits such 
 a spot as Clovelly one wonders how it is that 
 so charming a place is unknown save to a 
 limited number of persons. 
 
 A good way of getting to Clovelly is by 
 going by train to Bideford, and from thence 
 taking coach ; the distance is about twelve 
 miles, and the drive is very pleasant. 
 
 One lovely summer day we found ourselves 
 at this last named place, and before starting 
 for Clovelly we make a quick perambulation 
 of the town. 
 
 Bideford is the largest town in North 
 Devon, is over 200 miles from London, forty- 
 four from Plymouth, and twenty-nine from 
 Exeter. It is an incorporated town of about 
 14,000 inhabitants, and is a centre from which 
 several delightful tours may be made. 
 
 From what we can gather, the very early 
 history of Bideford is involved in obscurity, 
 but it may interest the readers of this book to 
 know that of old the townspeople engaged 
 themselves so eagerly in the Newfoundland 
 fishery and American trade that Bideford was 
 incorporated by Queen Elizabeth in 1610; 
 that as late as 1699 more ships belonged
 
 Bideford and Clovelly. 115 
 
 to the port than to any other in the 
 Kingdom, London and Topsham only 
 excepted ; and that the last three sufferers 
 for witchcraft were inhabitants of Bideford. 
 They were burnt at Exeter on August 25th, 
 1682, a year before the statutes which 
 provided for their execution were repealed. 
 
 The curious old bridge spanning the wide 
 river is one of the first things that attracts 
 the visitor's attention on leaving the Bideford 
 railway station. The bridge consists of 
 twenty-four arches, and was built in the 
 middle of the fourteenth century by voluntary 
 subscriptions, raised chiefly through the 
 exertions of Sir THEOBOLD GRENVILLE. The 
 bridge, we are told, was considered of such 
 importance to the town that many persons 
 left lands for its support, and the trustees 
 were in the habit of dining together when 
 they met to transact the business connected 
 with its maintenance, and actually kept a 
 wine-cellar for use on such occasions. A 
 lucky thing there was no Local Government 
 Board in those days ! 
 
 As regards the scenery in which Bideford 
 is seated, CHARLES KINGSLEY thus describes 
 it in his " Westward Ho ! " :
 
 1 1 6 In the Verdant West, 
 
 " All who have travelled through the 
 delicious scenery of North Devon, must needs 
 know the little white town of Bideford, which 
 slopes upwards from its broad tide-river, 
 paved with yellow sands, and its many- 
 arched old bridge, where salmon wait for 
 autumn floods, towards the pleasant upland 
 on the West. Above the town the hills close 
 in, cushioned with deep oak woods, through 
 which juts here and there a crag of fern- 
 fringed slate ; below they lower, and open 
 more and more in softly-rounded knolls and 
 fertile squares of red and green, till they sink 
 into the wide expanse of hazy flats, rich salt 
 marshes, and rolling sand hills, where 
 Torridge joins her sister Taw, and both 
 together flow quietly towards the broad surges 
 of the bar and the everlasting thunder of the 
 long Atlantic swell." 
 
 Among the several places of interest in the 
 town is the Parish Church, which was conse- 
 crated by Bishop BRONESCOMBE in November, 
 1259. It contains some very fine stained 
 glass windows, numerous mural tablets, and 
 attractive monuments. The Churchyard has 
 been tastefully laid out as a garden, but 
 equally as interesting as the flowers are the
 
 Bideford and Clovelly. 117 
 
 curious epitaphs inscribed on several of the 
 gravestones. The tower has eight bells, on 
 one of which runs the couplet : 
 
 I to the Church the living call ; 
 And to the grave I summon all. 
 
 If you have time you should certainly 
 make an effort to visit the remains of 
 Chudleigh Fort, built by Major- General 
 CHUDLEIGH at the outbreak of the Rebellion. 
 The Fort stands on the top of a hill to the 
 east of the town, and " commands a splendid 
 landscape." 
 
 We have missed the early coach to Clovelly, 
 and another does not start till four o'clock, 
 and, worse still, for us, does not return till 
 the next day. Our object is to get to Clovelly 
 and back the same day, so that we can start 
 for Barnstaple the following morning, and 
 catch the coach to Lynton and Lynmouth. 
 The landlord at the hotel (Tanton's) we put 
 up at sees our difficulty, and in way of solving 
 it proposes that we should order a special 
 carriage, and thus be enabled to return from 
 Clovelly the same evening. We accept his 
 proposition, and while the carriage is being 
 got ready we partake of a somewhat hasty 
 meal.
 
 1 1 8 In the Verdant West. 
 
 There are a few minutes to wait before 
 the meal is brought up, and we occupy the 
 spare moments by looking at the visitors' 
 book. Names of well-known persons figure 
 in it, and here and there one comes across 
 a piece of poetry that somebody delighted 
 with the neighbourhood has been constrained 
 to pen. 
 
 The meal over and our carriage ready, 
 we hurry on to Clovelly. The road is a 
 fairly good one, but the scenery en route is 
 not particularly striking, although now and 
 again a good view presents itself. 
 
 We pass by several gentlemen's places, 
 including Ford, the seat of Admiral Sir 
 WILLIAM DOWAL, and Moreton Park a fine 
 estate the home of Sir GEORGE TUCKLEY, 
 Bart., who is now " grey with age." 
 
 Then we come to a village, and leaving it 
 pass through an avenue of oaks and firs. 
 Emerging from the avenue we have hedges 
 studded with a choice profusion of ferns and 
 wild flowers, lining either side of the road, 
 while all around, rising like giants from the 
 ground, are noble hills. 
 
 Several pretty hamlets are passed through, 
 and when a mile or two by Hoops Inn (the
 
 Bideford and Clovelly. 119 
 
 half-way house) some lovely views of the 
 sea meet the eye. Over stretches of well- 
 cultivated land, with belts of thick foliaged 
 trees standing here and there, and between 
 sloping hills, one gets delightful peeps of the 
 blue water and the silent craft slowly sailing 
 thereon. But wait till you get to the Hobby 
 drive, for then you are brought face to 
 face with scenes so striking and sublime 
 as to send a thrill of rapture through your 
 veins. 
 
 The Hobby grounds are now soon reached. 
 They are the private property of Mr. 
 HAMLYN, of Clovelly Court, but for a shilling 
 and sixpence he very kindly permits visitors 
 to drive through them. 
 
 Taking our coachman's advice, we decide 
 to proceed through the grounds, and before 
 we have been in them two minutes we are 
 heartily glad we went no other way. 
 
 The drive is three miles long, winding in 
 and out, zig-zag fashion, and is carried along 
 the face of a cliff. 
 
 A beautiful avenue of trees is the noticeable 
 feature of the first portion of the drive. Down 
 on the right, some 200 feet below us, stretches 
 a well-wooded glen, bright with luxuriant
 
 i2o In the Verdant West. 
 
 foliage, while on the left the bank towers aloft 
 carpeted with moss, and adorned with flowers, 
 ferns, and trees of every variety. 
 
 The Italian sky is hidden from view by 
 the overhanging network of delicately tinted 
 foliage, but where the sun finds his way 
 through the leaves causing them to glitter, 
 the effect is most pretty. 
 
 The air is loaded with fragrance, and a 
 gentle breeze pervades the place. 
 
 After proceeding a hundred yards or so 
 the carriage stops. Our attention is called 
 to a view on the right. Through a mass of 
 rich foliage rising gradually up to the very sky 
 we get a sight of Gallantry Bower a fine 
 cliff extending into the sea, of which only a 
 small but delightful portion is seen. The 
 view is beautiful indeed, but presently we get 
 a better one still. 
 
 A few more minutes and the carriage again 
 stops. We are confronted with a glorious 
 scene. 
 
 On our left are numerous trees rearing 
 themselves loftily above, with foliage flowing 
 from their boughs like showers of golden rain 
 from a pyrotechnic piece, while down on our 
 right is the lazy glen, and in front of us
 
 Bideford and Clovelly. 1 2 1 
 
 another cloud of foliage as lovely as one could 
 wish to look upon. Turning slightly to the 
 right and glancing over the glimmering glen 
 we get a fascinating view of the ocean 
 between rising hills. 
 
 In some spots the sea is beautifully blue 
 and in others grandly green. Yonder, too, 
 are the cliffs clothed with verdure to the edge, 
 and bedecked with wild flowers, that pass a 
 pleasant summer time, 
 
 Rocked by breezes, touched by tender light, 
 Fed by dews and sung to by the sea. 
 
 And one also gets a glimpse of Woolacombe 
 Bay and sands, Morte Point, and Morte Bay. 
 
 Truly the scene is supremely splendid, and 
 we gaze in admiration on it. The sight 
 presented is what an aesthetically-disposed 
 spectator might call "a poem of exquisite 
 sentiment and beauty." So captivating is 
 the picture that we nearly lose ourselves in 
 a state of beautiful bewilderment. Verily, 
 Aladdin on seeing his Palace could not have 
 been more wonderstruck and charmed. 
 
 Rarely is such a rich feast prepared by 
 Nature for the eye. Rarely does a scene 
 so stir the soul and fill it with such ecstasies. 
 It makes one repeat the words of a great
 
 122 In the Verdant West. 
 
 king who, on being conducted to a lovely 
 rural spot, was so delighted with it that he 
 exclaimed, " If there is a Paradise on earth, 
 then surely this is it." 
 
 The coachman told us that he had driven 
 several great travellers through these grounds, 
 and they had all been unanimous in declaring 
 that the scenes to be had from them were the 
 most charming they had ever witnessed. 
 
 Along the drive we proceed, now passing 
 under bending trees whose pendulous sprays 
 sometimes nearly sweep away our hats, and 
 now over rustic bridges through which silvery 
 streams splash and dash on their downward 
 course. 
 
 A succession of splendid scenes meets our 
 eyes, each scene seemingly surpassing the 
 other, and filling us with rapture. 
 
 A minute or two more and we have come 
 to the end of the drive. We are on the top 
 of a high cliff, and there at the bottom lies 
 Clovelly charming, captivating Clovelly ! 
 
 It is not a large, imposing town ; oh, no ! 
 It does not boast of fifteen or twenty thousand 
 inhabitants ; oh, no ! Its inhabitants are not 
 of the educated, genteel class ; oh, no ! 
 
 The very charm of Clovelly lies in its not
 
 Bideford and Clovelly. 123 
 
 possessing these qualities. It is, indeed, the 
 absence of these qualities that makes Clovelly 
 so different from other watering-places, and 
 has singled it out as one of the most unique 
 spots to be anywhere found. 
 
 Clovelly is a curiously constructed village, 
 its main street being a little wider than an 
 ordinary pathway. Houses run down on 
 either side run down is literally correct, for 
 the thoroughfare, which is paved with stones, 
 slopes right to the beach. Two people stand- 
 ing in houses opposite one another could very 
 nearly shake hands across the street. 
 
 Hackneyed as the quotation is, we give the 
 following description of Clovelly by CHARLES 
 KINGSLEY, because it is such an accurate 
 one : 
 
 " Take the steepest hillside with which you 
 are acquainted ; let the Atlantic roll at its 
 base ; cover it with ancient trees and tangled 
 undergrowth to its summit ; suppose a brawl- 
 ing stream to fall in a deep and narrow 
 channel from the heights to the shore ; in 
 your mind's eye people its banks with a 
 straggling village of irregularly shaped lichen- 
 covered cottages, on so sharp an incline that 
 the base of the one is on a level with the
 
 124 In the Verdant West. 
 
 roof of its neighbour ; pave the street with 
 miniature boulders from the shore, arranged 
 in a series of terraces ; and terminate the 
 descent by an antique pier of wave-worn 
 stones, from which the only approach to the 
 sea at low water is by ladders, whose perpen- 
 dicular depths may well startle the inexperi- 
 enced traveller; and then you will obtain 
 something which would resemble Clovelly, 
 if it were not indeed unique in its singular 
 construction and beauty, and did not surpass 
 all descriptive powers, whether of pen or 
 pencil." 
 
 Clovelly has only about five hundred in- 
 habitants, who, for the most part, gain their 
 livelihood by fishing. The people are very 
 respectful, and enjoy the reputation of being 
 most moral and God-fearing. 
 
 There are one or two very good Inns in 
 the place, the New Inn and the Red Lion 
 being the best. The food supplied is excel- 
 lent, and the charges on the whole moderate. 
 
 We patronise the former Inn, where a 
 special attraction is to be found in the an- 
 tique china that is on view. How delighted, 
 we thought, Mr. GLADSTONE would be to 
 examine it.
 
 Bideford and Clovelly. 125 
 
 We have the pleasure of being waited upon 
 by the daughter of the proprietor, and if 
 anybody wants to see in the flesh one of those 
 ideal girls with golden hair and speaking 
 eyes that we read about in novels but rarely 
 meet, we advise the person to pay a visit to 
 the New Inn, Clovelly. 
 
 Seldom have we seen a more winsome little 
 miss. About sixteen years of age, with rich 
 golden hair, falling down her back in silken 
 folds, and with eyes perpetually twinkling, 
 the pretty miss is a source of pleasure to all 
 visitors, for her manners are not proud and 
 haughty, but simple and winning. 
 
 In glancing through one of the visitors' 
 books we find that Clovelly had been 
 patronised by several people of distinction. 
 Not a few of the pages contained pieces of 
 poetry well, poetry we'll call it and here is 
 a verse that will be read with interest : 
 Clovelly 
 
 I tell ye 
 
 Is a very remarkable, queer little town, 
 
 One might sing all day long 
 
 The children's song, 
 
 " Here we go up, up, up, and there you go down, down, 
 down ! " 
 
 So strangely uphill and down-delly 
 
 Is this quaint little town of Clovelly.
 
 126 In the Verdant West. 
 
 The stone pier ought certainly to be visited. 
 It was constructed by Mr. GEORGE GARY, 
 whose family held the manor so far back as 
 the reign of RICHARD II, and it commands 
 one of the finest views of the coast it is 
 possible to get. From it the visitor may 
 witness (in the season) the landing of the 
 great cargoes of herring and mackerel for 
 which the Clovelly fishing boats are so noted, 
 and it is said that no one knows better how 
 to cook the former fish than the Clovelly 
 women. 
 
 Amusements and entertainments are foreign 
 to Clovelly, save those which the natural 
 charms of the place afford. No, the visitor 
 must not expect to find concerts and ordinary 
 entertainments at Clovelly. They are prac- 
 tically unknown there. The time can be 
 passed far more pleasantly without them. 
 
 " Idling in the sunshine lounging about the 
 streets or on the pier lying prone on the 
 beach or the green-sward bathing, fishing, 
 and sailing over the surface of the bay or 
 making long excursions in the neighbourhood 
 with a visit to the little reading-room, and a 
 quiet ' rubber,' or a game at chess, draughts, or 
 backgammon, when the rain forbids outdoor
 
 Bideford and Clovelly. 127 
 
 enjoyments in one or other of these ways 
 a sojourn in Clovelly is passed away. ' And 
 very health-giving and pleasant ways they 
 are,' will be the verdict of any one who has 
 tried them." 
 
 There are several spots full of interest in 
 the vicinity of Clovelly that should be visited, 
 including Gallantry Bower, Mill Mouth, 
 Lundy Island, and Hartland Point. These 
 will not fail to afford considerable pleasure 
 to the visitor, who will be charmed with the 
 various attractions they offer. 
 
 To Lundy Island an especial historical 
 interest is attached, for in early days it was 
 the scene of events that left their mark in 
 the history of the West country. Its secluded 
 and almost inaccessible position has caused 
 the Island to be coveted as a stronghold 
 by many persons, not infrequently by the 
 Crown, and often by those who opposed its 
 authority. In early days pirates made the 
 Island their headquarters, and students of 
 English history will doubtless call to mind 
 the story that in the reign of HENRY III, 
 Sir WILLIAM DE MARISCO, after failing in 
 his attempt to take the life of the King at 
 Woodstock, in the year 1238, fled to Lundy
 
 128 In the Ve.rdant West. 
 
 Island, became a pirate, and built himself 
 a castle, but was ultimately captured and 
 executed, together with sixteen of his ac- 
 complices. 
 
 It was at Lundy Island, too, that EDWARD 
 II "endeavoured to shelter himself from his 
 troublesome wife and rebellious barons," but 
 being driven out of his course in the Chan- 
 nel by gales was unable to make a landing. 
 
 The Island is about three miles in length 
 and a mile in breadth, and is largely com- 
 posed of granite. So admirably adapted for 
 building purposes is the stone that a few 
 years ago a company was formed at Bristol 
 with a view of carrying on a business with 
 it, but we are told that the difficulties of 
 working it were so formidable that the idea 
 had to be abandoned. It is interesting to 
 know, however, that the Thames Embank- 
 ment and a few public buildings have been 
 erected with some of the Lundy Island 
 granite. 
 
 From Messrs. Twiss & SON'S " Illustrated 
 Guide to North Devon " we learn that " In 
 the early part of the seventeenth century it 
 was reported that a couple of Turkish pirates 
 had captured Lundy and were threatening
 
 Bide ford and Clovelly. i 29 
 
 to burn and destroy Ilfracombe ; and later 
 a squadron of Spanish 'shippes' attempted 
 landing, but were repulsed by the inhabi- 
 tants. Later in the same century French 
 privateers, making Lundy their head-quar- 
 ters, did a deal of mischief on the adjacent 
 coast and amongst the shipping of the 
 Channel. It was in 1630 that the Captain 
 of a man-of-war wrote to Cecil : ' Egypt was 
 never more infested by caterpillars than the 
 Channel with Biscayers.' On the 23rd of 
 this month (June) there came out of San 
 Sebastian twenty sail of sloops : some attemp- 
 ted to land on Lundy, but were repulsed by 
 the inhabitants. In 1632 a noted pirate, 
 Captain NUTT, the dread of all mariners 
 navigating the Bristol Channel, made Lundy 
 his head-quarters. In 1633 a Spanish man- 
 of-war landing eighty men rifled the Island 
 of everything valuable that could be carried 
 away. In consequence of all these troubles 
 it was determined by CHARLES I. to appoint 
 a governor, and THOMAS BUSHEL, then en- 
 gaged in working the Combmartin silver 
 mines, was appointed. BUSHEL fortified the 
 Island at his own cost, and on its surrender 
 being demanded by Lord SAY and SEALE, a 
 
 K
 
 130 In the Verdant West. 
 
 noted Commonwealth man, to whom it had 
 been granted by Parliament, refused to give 
 it up or pay the ^3,000 which SAY and 
 SEALE demanded. 
 
 " It was finally surrendered by BUSHEL 
 to the Hon. RICHARD FIENNES, the repre- 
 sentative of Parliament, and he returned to 
 the working of the Combmartin mines. In 
 the reign of WILLIAM III, an armed vessel, 
 pretending to be Dutch, but in reality French, 
 seized the Island by stratagem and rifled 
 the inhabitants of everything of value, even 
 their clothing. This proves that Lundy has 
 been the scene of stirring events in remote 
 days, but is now peopled by those engaged 
 in more peaceful and useful employments. 
 In or about 1780 Lundy was purchased by 
 Sir JOHN BORLASE WARREN, Baronet, who 
 established an Irish colony there. It was 
 afterwards sold to Sir ROBERT PALK, and 
 by him transferred to JOHN CLEVELAND, 
 Esq., of Tapley, near Bideford. In 1794 it 
 was owned by Sir VERE HUNT, afterwards 
 by Messrs. STIFF and McTREVOR, and is 
 now the property of the Rev. W. H. 
 HEAVEN." 
 
 The guide goes on to say that " the cliffs
 
 Bideford and Clovelly. 131 
 
 of the Island are rugged and precipitous, 
 accessible only to the myriads of sea fowl, 
 who make them their abiding place. Of 
 these birds, there are many varieties to be 
 found on Lundy, of which the most nu- 
 merous are the common gull, herring gull, 
 gannets, cormorants, guillemots, razor bills, 
 the puffin locally known as the ' Lundy 
 parrot ' and many others whose happy fish- 
 ing grounds are the blue waters that surround 
 their island home. The botanist will find 
 much to interest him on Lundy, as there 
 are not less than 250 different species of 
 wild flowers, and nineteen of ferns, to be 
 found there. 
 
 " The rare occurrence of frosts and the more 
 uniform temperature than that of the main- 
 land, favour the growth of many cultivated 
 plants. For instance, fuchsias grow luxuri- 
 antly, the hydrangea attains a height of 
 several feet, whilst the mesembryanthemum 
 passes through the winter unscathed. At 
 the beginning of the winter season Lundy 
 is visited by the migratory woodcock, and 
 there is good snipe shooting, for which per- 
 mission must be obtained of the owner. 
 Lundy for electoral purposes is in the
 
 132 In the Verdant West. 
 
 Barnstaple or North-Western Division of 
 Devon, and parochially in the hundred of 
 Braunton. It is telegraphically in commu- 
 nication with the mainland by means of a 
 submarine cable, and there is a signal 
 station in connection with Cardiff Chamber 
 of Commerce for the purpose of reporting 
 inward, outward, or weather-bound vessels. 
 Lobsters and other shell fish are plentiful 
 about the rocks." 
 
 In the cool of the evening we commence 
 our homeward journey. When about three 
 parts way to Bideford we branch off the 
 Hartland Road for the pretty village of 
 Abbotsham, which is soon reached. The 
 Post Office looks fresh and fine with its floral 
 decorations, while the old Church nearly op- 
 posite takes one's mind back to the Middle 
 Ages. 
 
 Standing nearly in the centre of the road 
 is an oak between two and three hundred 
 years old. It is strangely shaped, having 
 nothing but a bunch of foliage at the top of 
 its canker-eaten trunk. 
 
 The shades of evening are fast falling, and 
 the country is being wrapt in a mantle of 
 tender darkness.
 
 Bideford and Clove lly. 133 
 
 We are not now long reaching Bideford, 
 and when we do daylight has entirely dis- 
 appeared, and reigning in its stead is night, 
 and a lovely night it is. 
 
 With ebon wand and sable robe, 
 
 How beautiful, Night, art thou ; 
 
 Serenely set on a throne of jet, 
 
 With stars about thy brow !
 
 GENERAL 
 CHARACTERISTICS 
 
 OF 
 
 WEST COUNTRY SCENERY. 
 
 ^ROM the foregoing sketches it will 
 be observed that the West country 
 possesses scenery as varied and 
 diversified as it is striking and 
 beautiful. 
 
 No matter what part of the West you 
 may visit, you will be sure to find some- 
 thing that will interest and, probably, cap- 
 tivate. 
 
 In no other part of England is such a 
 wealth of scenery offered to the visitor, 
 and in no other part of England can a 
 holiday be more enjoy ably spent. Nature 
 seems to have doubly favoured the West 
 country, on which it has lavished with a
 
 General Characteristics. 135 
 
 prodigal hand charms and beauties that 
 need to be seen to be believed and ap- 
 preciated. 
 
 Nature in the West adopts many manners 
 and many forms. But all of them are 
 grand and attractive. 
 
 At Cheddar, in North Somerset, we get 
 Nature in the form of noble cliffs, mighty 
 rocks, and remarkable caves ; in other 
 parts of Somerset she displays herself 
 in undulating countryland, studded here 
 and there with sylvan scenes, some of 
 which are enhanced by their close proximity 
 to the beautiful sea ; while in Devon, Nature 
 smiles, perhaps, in her most seductive 
 mood. 
 
 In Cornwall, too, she presents herself in 
 a variety of ways alike elevating and pic- 
 turesque. A walk along the Cornish coast 
 will bring one, it is said, face to face with 
 a panorama of some of the finest possible 
 cliff and ocean scenery, while an inland 
 walking tour will reveal some peculiarly 
 pleasing pictures. 
 
 It is very questionable whether any more 
 lovely scenery than that of the West of 
 England is to be anywhere found, and if
 
 136 In the Verdant West. 
 
 we may believe great travellers, some of 
 the scenery that adorns the West country 
 stands absolutely unrivalled. 
 
 ROBERT SOUTHEY, writing of his walk 
 through Lyn mouth, declared the place to 
 be the finest spot, except Cintra and the 
 Arrabida, that he ever saw, and other emi- 
 nent men have affirmed that the West 
 country contains some of the most exquisite 
 scenery they ever beheld. Of course there 
 are flat, uninteresting spots in the West, 
 but even they are like angels' visits few 
 and far between. What strikes one most 
 forcibly about the scenery of the West is 
 the wealth and richness of the foliage, the 
 variety of its tints, and the wonderfully 
 pretty and diversified forms it takes. This 
 is the more noticeable in the well-wooded 
 combes and glorious glens which are such 
 a feature of Western scenery, and such a 
 delight to all Nature-loving visitors. 
 
 Another point about the Western scenery 
 that impresses one is the charming com- 
 bination of country and sea views a com- 
 bination seldom to be met with. Indeed, 
 at some places the scenes offered by the 
 sea in front and the country at the back,
 
 General Characteristics. 137 
 
 run one another so closely that it is diffi- 
 cult to say which carry off the palm. 
 
 The Western watering-places, so quaint, 
 so romantic, so picturesque, are most de- 
 cidedly an important characteristic of West 
 of England scenery, and are a refreshing 
 retreat from the toil and turmoil of every- 
 day life. Then, of course, there are the 
 ranges of hills for which the West country 
 is noted, and these constitute another lead- 
 ing characteristic of Western scenery. 
 Without them the West country would be 
 deprived of one of its great attractions, for 
 not only do they serve as a spectacular 
 effect, but they offer the most bracing and 
 pleasurable walks imaginable. 
 
 In the West our constant taste for variety 
 in nature is never left unsatisfied. You can 
 scarcely walk a mile without new pleasures 
 delighting your senses or imagination. 
 Nature is full of variety, full of beauties, and 
 seems to labour on every side to surprise us 
 with new pleasures. As a clever writer puts 
 it, we must be blind and senseless indeed if 
 we are not struck with this infinite variety, 
 and if we do not acknowledge the wisdom 
 and goodness of the Creator.
 
 138 In the Verdant West. 
 
 Nature, with a tender regard for our taste, 
 presents us with nothing that does not please 
 and interest us. The very earth is clothed in 
 green the colour most agreeable to the eye, 
 and in the West country that colour is made 
 all the more charming by the variety of its 
 tints and by the lovely light and shade that 
 play upon it. 
 
 Landscapes covered with woods, brambles, 
 flowers, and grass afford us beautiful pictures, 
 the beautifulness being enhanced by the 
 infinitely varied tints of green crossing and 
 intersecting each other, and blending them- 
 selves so as to be insensibly melted into each 
 other. There is no want of harmony or tone, 
 but an exquisite blending of colour. 
 
 Not a month passes but different plants and 
 flowers spring up and invite attention. The 
 vegetable kingdom is never at a standstill. 
 It is always producing something fresh for us. 
 " If anyone asks, To whom are we indebted for 
 all these blessings ? the hills and the valleys 
 will tell them ; the earth points it to their 
 sight ; the sky is a glass in which they may 
 behold it ; the thunder, the rain, and the 
 rainbow declare the wisdom of God. All 
 things in Nature bear the impression of His
 
 General Characteristics. 139 
 
 handywork. The birds, with their melodious 
 notes, .celebrate Him. The bounding flocks, 
 and the stag in the midst of the forest ; the 
 insignificant worm and the enormous whale 
 that spouts the waves to the sky and sinks 
 large ships ; the terrible crocodile, and that 
 moving mountain, the majestic elephant ; all 
 the numerous hosts of animals which people 
 the air, the earth, and the sea ; they all declare 
 the glory of God, and proclaim His existence." 
 
 The time to visit the West is really in 
 the months of May and June, when Nature 
 is adorned in her tenderest and sweetest 
 garb. Then it is that the birds are in full 
 chorus ; then it is that the scenery is the 
 freshest, the lanes most lovely, and the 
 hedgerow and field bright with bud and 
 flower. Then it is, too, "that we can fully 
 appreciate that exquisite idea of the old 
 Greeks in regarding the earth as our ' nour- 
 ishing mother,' and of the poetic pathos of 
 their rendering back again their blessed 
 dead to her breast, as we would gently lay 
 a weary and sleeping child back into a 
 mother's enfolding arms." 
 
 Ah, and what a beautiful blue fills the 
 sky, what a rich purple and gold glorifies
 
 140 In the Verdant West. 
 
 the west as the sun sinks in the evening, 
 " a glowing, golden disc, like the shield of 
 one of Milton's archangels," and what glad 
 harmony exists all around ! Wonderful 
 Nature ! Wonderful Nature ! And yet some 
 people declare the world to be dull and 
 devoid of attraction. They pine for a better 
 world to come, knowing nothing of the 
 beauties of this. 
 
 Sir ARTHUR HELPS has well said, "What! 
 dull, when you do not know what gives its 
 loveliness of form to the lily, its depth of 
 colour to the violet, its fragrance to the 
 rose ; when you do not know in what con- 
 sists the venom of the adder, any more 
 than you can imitate the glad movements 
 of the dove. What ! dull, when earth, air, 
 and water are all alike mysteries to you, 
 and when as you stretch out your hand you 
 do not touch anything the properties of 
 w r hich you have mastered ; while all the 
 time Nature is inviting you to talk earnestly 
 with her, to understand her, to subdue her, 
 and to be blessed by her ! Go away, man ; 
 learn something, do something, understand 
 something, and let me hear no more of 
 your dullness."
 
 General Characteristics. 141 
 
 Yes, it is in the West country that Nature 
 is to be seen in her most charming and 
 loving of moods. There her soothing in- 
 fluences are felt by cultured and uncultured 
 alike. No one can wholly resist the seduc- 
 tive spell of her gentle smiles. No one can 
 entirely ignore her pleasant presence. Con- 
 sciously or unconsciously, we all in a greater 
 or less degree admire her. She waves a 
 wand of irresistible charm about us, and 
 more or less refines and elevates our 
 feelings. 
 
 Truly, thousands have felt, and are feeling, 
 all the better for having experienced a "touch 
 of that hallowing influence which GRAY felt 
 in all its sacred fulness, when spell-bound by 
 the gentle beauties of Stoke Pogis Church- 
 yard he sung those immortal words": 
 
 Hark how the sacred calm that breathes around, 
 Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease, 
 In still small accents whispering from the ground, 
 A grateful earnest of eternal peace.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS 
 
 TO 
 
 IN THE VERDANT WEST." 
 
 Among the principal Subscribers to this book, 
 most of whom have taken more than one copy, 
 are the following: 
 
 The Lord High Chancellor. 
 
 The Lord Chief Justice. 
 
 The Lord Bishop of Bath & Wells. 
 
 The Earl of Cork and Orrery. 
 
 Earl Temple. 
 
 Lord Carlingford. 
 
 Lord Bridport (Duke of Bronte). 
 
 Lord Sidmouth. 
 
 His Honour Judge Paterson. 
 
 Sir Richard Paget, Bart., M.P. 
 
 Sir John Lubbock, Bart., M.P. 
 
 Sir J. Whittaker Ellis, Bart., M.P. 
 
 Sir T. D. Acland, Bart. 
 
 Sir A. A. Hood, Bart. 
 
 Sir Frederick Knight. Bart. 
 
 Sir E. B. Medlycott, Bart. 
 
 Sir W. A. Lethbridge, Bart. 
 
 Rt. Hon. W. H. Smith, M.P. 
 
 E. J. Stanley, Esq., M.P. 
 
 C. I. Elton, Esq., Q.C., M.P. 
 
 J. Bigwood, Esq., M.P. 
 
 Justin McCarthy, Esq., M.P. 
 
 Lewis Fry, Esq., M.P. 
 
 The Venerable Archdeacon Denison 
 
 Rt. Hon. J. W. Mellor, Q.C. 
 
 W. Latham, Esq., Q.C. 
 
 J. Douglas Walker, Esq. 
 
 Francis Barratt, Esq. 
 
 G. F. Luttrell, Esq., J.P. 
 
 Colonel Tynte. 
 
 Colonel R. M. Clerk. 
 
 Alderman F. J. Thompson. 
 
 Alderman A. Peace, J.P. 
 
 E. Chisholm Batten, Esq., J.P. 
 
 W. E. Pole, Esq., J.P. 
 
 The Mayor of Great Yarmouth 
 (J. W. B. Johnson, Esq.) 
 
 The Deputy Mayor of Great 
 Yarmouth (F. Danby Palmer, 
 Esq., J.P..D.L.) 
 
 The Mayor of Bridgwater 
 (Alderman F. C. Foster;. 
 
 The Deputy Mayor of Bridgwater 
 (J. H. Waddon, Esq.) 
 
 P. O. H. Reed, Esq. 
 T. M. Reed, Esq. 
 Canon Mitchell, Taunton. 
 Rev. C. Bazell, Bridgwater. 
 Rev. W. F. Berry, Bridgwater. 
 
 Rev. C. G. Anderson, Otter- 
 hampton, Bridgwater.
 
 . BdPPETO 
 
 SHIRT MAKERS, HATTERS, HOSIERS, 
 v GLOVERS, & HABIT MAKERS, 
 
 SfloRNHILL 
 
 ^RIDGWATER. 
 
 '.'..'.! .... .,. .i ; ,.!!! ... .:.,. i:, ,r ., ' i: :..,' ' 
 
 SPECIALITIES. 
 
 GENTLEMEN'S DRESS SUITS, HUNTING 
 BREECHES & LEGGINGS. 
 
 LADIES' HABITS, JACKETS, & ULSTERS. 
 
 LIVERIES, CLERICALS, & UNIFORMS.
 
 Exhibition Medal, /^/.] [Honourable Mention, 1862. 
 
 SIGHT. 
 
 Dr. BREWSTER, in his treatise, refers thus to the 
 "Periscopic" Lenses patented by Dr. Wollaston: 
 
 " Their principal object, as the name denotes, is to give a wider 
 field of vision than those of the common kind." 
 
 ALFRED SMEE, Esq., Surgeon to the Bank of 
 England, etc., in a Lecture to the Central London 
 Ophthalmic Hospital, speaking of Braham's 
 Patent Pantoscopic Spectacles, observed : 
 
 "The sight will be materially preserved by their use, and perhaps 
 the time will come when NO OTHKR KORM OF SPECTACLES will be 
 used for the far-sightedness of advancing years." 
 
 Upon another occasion he states : 
 
 " I am delighted with these Spectacles, which, in my opinion, are 
 of the very best form that has hitherto been devised." 
 
 M. W. DUNSCOMBE has produced Spectacles 
 of rare excellence, combining the two improve- 
 ments above referred to, and working the lenses 
 from Brazilian Rock Crystal, of which J. H. 
 CURTIS, Esq., Oculist, writes: 
 
 " The best Spectacles are, undoubtedly, the Brazilian Pebbles : 
 they are cooler to the eyes, besides not being so liable to be 
 scratched or broken, and are preferable to all otners." 
 Price Fifteen Shillings. 
 
 M. \\T~DlJNSCOMBE, 
 
 (From London), Successor to Braham, 
 
 OPTICIAN AND MANUFACTURER OF THE IMPROVED 
 PATENT PANTOSCOPIC SPECTACLES, 
 
 10, St. AUGUSTINE'S PARADE, BRISTOL. 
 
 F.STABUSHF.l) 17;>7. 
 
 Copies of " Vision and Spectacles " (Fifth Edition), a conci-c 
 account of the function and most general defects ol the eye, may 
 be had free on application.
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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 CA YUOHD 
 
 
 
 PHINTIO l~ U. A 
 
 ment. 
 
 ntry upon 
 etailed 
 irge. 
 
 SS. 
 
 4NY 
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