{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_48439/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_48439","id":"gutenberg_48439","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48439","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: History - British","Category: Music","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Devon (England)"],"text":"Transcriber's note:\n\nText enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n\nSmall capital text has been replaced with all capitals.\n\nText enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).\n\nThe carat character (^) indicates that the following letter is\nsuperscripted (example: SCALE 4 F^T to 1 I^N).\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\n  A BOOK OF THE WEST\n\n\n  VOL. I.\n\n  DEVON\n\n\n\n\nBY THE SAME AUTHOR\n\n\n  LIFE OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE\n  THE TRAGEDY OF THE C\u00c6SARS\n  THE DESERT OF SOUTHERN FRANCE\n  STRANGE SURVIVALS\n  SONGS OF THE WEST\n  A GARLAND OF COUNTRY SONG\n  OLD COUNTRY LIFE\n  YORKSHIRE ODDITIES\n  FREAKS OF FANATICISM\n  A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES\n  OLD ENGLISH FAIRY TALES\n  A BOOK OF NURSERY SONGS\n  AN OLD ENGLISH HOME\n  THE VICAR OF MORWENSTOW\n  THE CROCK OF GOLD\n\n[Illustration: SWEET HAY-MAKERS]\n\n\n\n\n  A\n  BOOK OF THE WEST\n\n  BEING AN INTRODUCTION\n  TO DEVON AND CORNWALL\n\n\n  BY S. BARING-GOULD\n\n\n  VOL. I.\n\n  DEVON\n\n\n  WITH THIRTY-FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n  METHUEN & CO.\n  36 ESSEX STREET, W.C.\n  LONDON\n  1899\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nIn this \"Book of the West\" I have not sought to say all that might\nbe said relative to Devon and Cornwall; nor have I attempted to\nmake of it a guide-book. I have rather endeavoured to convey to\nthe visitor to our western peninsula a general idea of what is\ninteresting, and what ought to attract his attention. The book is\nnot intended to supersede guide-books, but to prepare the mind to\nuse these latter with discretion.\n\nIn dealing with the history of the counties and of the towns, it\nwould have swelled the volumes unduly to have gone systematically\nthrough their story from the beginning to the present; it would,\nmoreover, have made the book heavy reading, as well as heavy to\ncarry. I have chosen, therefore, to pick out some incident, or some\nbiography connected with the several towns described, and have\nlimited myself thereto.\n\nMy object then must not be misunderstood, and my book harshly judged\naccordingly. There are ten thousand omissions, but I venture to\nthink a good many things have been admitted which will not be found\nin guide-books, but which it is well for the visitor to know, if he\nhas a quick intelligence and eyes open to observe.\n\nIn the Cornish volume I have given rather fully the stories of the\nsaints who have impressed their names indelibly on the land. It has\nseemed to me absurd to travel in Cornwall and have these names in\nthe mouth, and let them remain _nuda nomina_.\n\nThey have a history, and that is intimately associated with the\nbeginnings of that of Cornwall. But their history has not been\nstudied, and in books concerning Cornwall most of the statements\nabout them are wholly false.\n\nI have not entered into any critical discussion concerning moot\npoints. I have left that for my \"Catalogue of the Cornish Saints\"\nthat is being issued in the _Journal of the Royal Institution of\nCornwall_.\n\nThere are places that might have been described more fully, others\nthat have been passed over without notice. This has been due to no\ndisregard for them on my part, but to a dread of making the volumes\ntoo bulky and cumbrous.\n\nFinally, I owe a debt of gratitude to many kind friends who have\nassisted me with their local knowledge, as Mrs. Troup, of Offwell\nHouse, Honiton; the Rev. J. B. Hughes, for some time Head Master\nof Blundell's School, Tiverton, and now Vicar of Staverton; Mr. R.\nBurnard, of Huckaby House, Dartmoor, and Hillsborough, Plymouth, my\n_alter ego_ in all that concerns Dartmoor; Mr. J. D. Enys, whose\nknowledge of things Cornish is encyclop\u00e6dic; Messrs. Amery, of\nDruid, Ashburton; Mr. J. D. Prickman, of Okehampton; and many others.\n\n  S. BARING-GOULD\n\n  LEW TRENCHARD HOUSE, DEVON\n  _June, 1899_\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n  CHAPTER                             PAGE\n\n  I. THE WESTERN FOLK                    1\n\n  II. VILLAGES AND CHURCHES             30\n\n  III. HONITON                          43\n\n  IV. A LANDSLIP                        60\n\n  V. EXETER                             68\n\n  VI. CREDITON                          79\n\n  VII. TIVERTON                        101\n\n  VIII. BARNSTAPLE                     122\n\n  IX. BIDEFORD                         134\n\n  X. DARTMOOR AND ITS ANTIQUITIES      155\n\n  XI. DARTMOOR: ITS TENANTS            176\n\n  XII. OKEHAMPTON                      208\n\n  XIII. MORETON HAMPSTEAD              225\n\n  XIV. ASHBURTON                       248\n\n  XV. TAVISTOCK                        266\n\n  XVI. TORQUAY                         289\n\n  XVII. TOTNES                         310\n\n  XVIII. DARTMOUTH                     323\n\n  XIX. KINGSBRIDGE                     337\n\n  XX. PLYMOUTH                         352\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n  SWEET HAY-MAKERS                              _Frontispiece_\n  From a photograph by Mr. Chenhall, Tavistock.\n\n  CLOVELLY FISHERMEN                         _To face page_ 16\n  From a photograph by the Rev. F. Partridge.\n\n  SHEEPSTOR                                             \"   30\n  From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.\n\n  HOLNE PULPIT AND SCREEN                               \"   38\n  From a photograph by J. Amery, Esq.\n\n  HONITON LACE                                          \"   51\n  From specimens kindly lent by Miss Herbert, Exeter,\n  and Mrs. Fowler, Honiton. Photographed by the Rev.\n  F. Partridge.\n\n  HIGH STREET, EXETER                                   \"   68\n  From a photograph by the Rev. F. Partridge.\n\n  A COB COTTAGE, SHEEPWASH                              \"   80\n  From a photograph by the Rev. F. Partridge.\n\n  EAST WINDOW, CREDITON CHURCH, BEFORE\n  \"RESTORATION\"                                         \"   82\n  From a sketch by F. Bligh Bond, Esq.\n\n  TIVERTON                                              \"  101\n  From a photograph by Mr. Mudford, Tiverton.\n\n  QUEEN ANNE'S WALK, BARNSTAPLE                         \"  122\n  From a photograph by the Rev. F. Partridge.\n\n  CHAPEL ROCK, ILFRACOMBE                               \"  128\n  From a photograph by Wellington and Ward, Elstree.\n\n  HARTLAND SMITHY                                       \"  134\n  From a photograph by the Rev. F. Partridge.\n\n  CLOVELLY                                              \"  151\n  From a photograph by the Rev. F. Partridge.\n\n  STAPLE TOR                                            \"  155\n  From a photograph by James Shortridge, Esq.\n\n  RIPPON TOR LOGAN STONE                                \"  160\n  From a photograph by J. Amery, Esq.\n\n  BROADUN POUNDS                                        \"  165\n\n  BARROW ON CHAGFORD COMMON                             \"  166\n  Drawn by R. H. Worth, Esq.\n\n  LAKEHEAD KISTVAEN                                     \"  168\n  From a photograph by R. Burnard, Esq.\n\n  URN FROM KISTVAEN                                     \"  172\n  Drawn by R. H. Worth, Esq.\n\n  VIXEN TOR                                             \"  176\n  From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.\n\n  LOWER TARR                                            \"  182\n  From a photograph by J. Amery, Esq.\n\n  TAVY CLEAVE                                           \"  197\n  From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.\n\n  TAW MARSH                                             \"  208\n  From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.\n\n  YES TOR                                               \"  212\n  From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.\n\n  THE CALCULATING BOY                                   \"  232\n  From a miniature in the possession of Miss Bidder.\n\n  GRIMSPOUND                                            \"  239\n  From a plan by R. H. Worth, Esq.\n\n  J. DUNNING, LORD ASHBURTON                            \"  252\n  From a painting by Sir J. Reynolds.\n\n  OLD OAK CARVING, ASHBURTON                            \"  258\n  From a photograph by J. Amery, Esq.\n\n  BRENT TOR                                             \"  266\n  From a painting by A. B. Collier, Esq.\n\n  ON THE DART                                           \"  310\n  From a photograph by the Rev. F. Partridge.\n\n  DARTMOUTH CASTLE                                      \"  323\n  From a photograph by the Rev. F. Partridge.\n\n  GRAMMAR SCHOOL, PLYMPTON                              \"  354\n  From a drawing by F. Bligh Bond, Esq.\n\n  IN PLYMPTON                                           \"  354\n  From a drawing by F. Bligh Bond, Esq.\n\n  SUTTON POOL                                           \"  358\n  From a photograph by the Rev. F. Partridge.\n\n  ALMS-HOUSES, S. GERMANS                               \"  366\n  From a drawing by F. Bligh Bond, Esq.\n\n\n\n\nDEVON\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTHE WESTERN FOLK\n\n     Ethnology of the Western Folk--The earliest men--The\n     Ivernian race--The arrival of the Britons--Mixture of\n     races in Ireland--The Attacottic revolt--The Dumnonii--The\n     Scottic invasion of Dumnonia--The story of the Slave of the\n     Haft--Athelstan drives the Britons across the Tamar--Growth of\n     towns--The yeomen represent the Saxon element--The peasantry\n     the earlier races--The Devonshire dialect--Courtesy--Use\n     of Christian names--Love of funerals--Good looks among the\n     girls--Dislike of \"Foreigners\"--The Cornish people--Mr. Havelock\n     Ellis on them--The types--A Cornish girl--Religion--The\n     unpardonable sin--Folk-music--Difference between that of Devon\n     and Cornwall and that of Somersetshire.\n\n\nIt is commonly supposed that the bulk of the Devonshire people are\nSaxons, and that the Cornish are almost pure Celts.\n\nIn my opinion neither supposition is correct.\n\nLet us see who were the primitive occupants of the Dumnonian\npeninsula. In the first place there were the men who left their\nrude flint tools in the Brixham and Kent's caverns, the same people\nwho have deposited such vast accumulations in the lime and chalk\ncaves and shelters of the V\u00e9z\u00e8re and Dordogne. Their remains are\nnot so abundant with us as there, because our conditions are not as\nfavourable for their preservation; and yet in the Drift we do find\nan enormous number of their tools, though not _in situ_, with their\nhearths, as in France; yet sufficient to show that either they were\nvery numerous, or what is more probable, that the time during which\nthey existed was long.\n\nThis people did not melt off the face of the earth like snow. They\nremained on it.\n\nWe know that they were tall, that they had gentle faces--the\nstructure of their skulls shows this; and from the sketches they\nhave left of themselves, we conclude that they had straight hair,\nand from their skeletons we learn that they were tall.\n\nM. Massenat, the most experienced hunter after their remains, was\nsitting talking with me one evening at Brives about their relics. He\nhad just received a volume of the transactions of the Smithsonian\nInstitute that contained photographs of Esquimaux implements. He\nindicated one, and asked me to translate to him the passage relative\nto its use. \"Wonderful!\" said he. \"I have found this tool repeatedly\nin our rock-shelters, and have never known its purport. It is a\nremarkable fact, that to understand our reindeer hunters of the\nV\u00e9z\u00e8re we must question the Esquimaux of the Polar region. I firmly\nhold that they were the same race.\"\n\nA gentle, intelligent, artistic, unwarlike people got pressed into\ncorners by more energetic, military, and aggressive races. And,\naccustomed to the reindeer, some doubtless migrated North with their\nfavourite beasts, and in a severer climate became somewhat stunted.\n\nIt is possible--I do not say that it is more than possible--that the\ndark men and women found about Land's End, tall and handsome, found\nalso in the Western Isles of Scotland and in West Ireland, may be\nthe last relics of this infusion of blood.\n\nBut next to this doubtful element comes one of which no doubt at all\nexists. The whole of England, as of France, and as of Spain, was\nat one time held by a dusky, short-built race, which is variously\ncalled Iberian, Ivernian, and Silurian, of which the Basque is the\nrepresentative so far as that he still speaks a very corrupted\nform of the original tongue. In France successive waves of Gaul,\nVisigoth, and Frank have swept over the land and have dominated it.\nBut the fair hair and blue eyes and the clear skin of the conquering\nraces have been submerged by the rising and overflow of the dusky\nblood of the original population. The Berber, the Kabyle are of the\nsame race; dress one of them in a blue blouse, and put a peaked cap\non his head, and he would pass for a French peasant.\n\nThe Welsh have everywhere adopted the Cymric tongue, they hug\nthemselves in the belief that they are pure descendants of the\nancient Britons, but in fact they are rather Silurians than Celts.\nTheir build, their coloration, are not Celtic. In the fifth century\nCambria was invaded from Strathclyde by the sons of Cunedda;\nfair-haired, white-skinned Britons, they conquered the North and\npenetrated a certain way South; but the South was already occupied\nby a body of invading Irish. When pressed by the Saxons, then the\nretreating Britons poured into Wales; but the substratum of the\npopulation was alien in tongue and in blood and in religion.\n\nIt was the same in Dumnonia--Devon and Cornwall. It was occupied\nat some unknown time, perhaps four centuries before Christ, by the\nBritons, who became lords and masters, but the original people did\nnot disappear, they became their \"hewers of wood and drawers of\nwater.\"\n\nThen came the great scourge of the Saxon invasion. Devon remained\nas a place of refuge for the Britons who fled before the weapons of\nthese barbarians, till happily the Saxons accepted Christianity,\nwhen their methods became less ferocious. They did not exterminate\nthe subject people. But what had more to do with the mitigation of\ntheir cruelty than their Christianity, was that they had ceased to\nbe mere wandering hordes, and had become colonists. As such they\nneeded serfs. They were not themselves experienced agriculturalists,\nand they suffered the original population to remain in the land-the\ndusky Ivernians as serfs, and the freemen, the conquered Britons,\nwere turned into tenant farmers.\n\nThis is precisely what took place in Ireland. The conquering\nGadhaels or Milesians, always spoken of as golden-haired, tall\nand white-skinned, had subdued the former races, the Firbolgs and\nothers, and had welded them into one people whom they called the\nAithech Tuatha, _i.e._ the Rentpaying Tribes; the Classic writers\nrendered this Attacotti.\n\nIn the first two centuries of our era there ensued an incessant\nstruggle between the tenant farmers and the lords; the former rose\nin at least two great revolutions, which shows that they had by no\nmeans been exterminated, and whole bodies of them, rather than be\ncrushed into submission and ground down by hard rents, left Ireland,\nsome as mercenaries, others, perhaps, to fall on the coasts of\nWales, Devon, and Brittany, and effect settlements there.\n\nWhen brought into complete subjugation in Ireland, the Gadhelic\nchiefs planted their _duns_ throughout the country in such a manner\nas to form chains, by which they could communicate with one another\nat the least token of a revival of discontent; and they distributed\nthe subject tribes throughout the island in such a manner as to keep\nthem under supervision, and to break up their clans. As Professor\nSullivan very truly says, \"The Irish tenants of to-day are composed\nof the descendants of Firbolgs and other British and Belgic races;\nMilesians, ... Gauls, Norwegians, Anglo-Saxons, Anglo-Normans, and\nEnglish, each successive dominant race having driven part at least\nof its predecessors in power into the rent-paying and labouring\nranks beneath them, or gradually falling into them themselves, to be\nthere absorbed. This is a fact which should be remembered by those\nwho theorise over the qualities of the 'pure Celts,' whoever they\nmay be.\"[1]\n\n  [1] Introduction to O'CURRY (E.), _Manners and Customs of the\n  Ancient Irish_, 1873, I. xxiv.\n\nThe Dumnonii, whose city or fortress was at Exeter, were an\nimportant people. They occupied the whole of the peninsula from the\nriver Parret to Land's End. East of the Tamar was Dyfnaint, the Deep\nVales; west of it Corneu, the horn of Britain.\n\nThe Dumnonii are thought to have invaded and occupied this territory\nabout four centuries before the Christian era. The language of the\nprevious dusky race was agglutinative, like that of the Tartars and\nBasques, that is to say, they did not inflect their substantives.\nAlthough there has been a vast influx of other blood, with fair hair\nand white complexions, the earlier type may still be found in both\nDevon and Cornwall.\n\nThen came the Roman invasion; this affected our Dumnonian peninsula\nvery slightly; Cornwall hardly at all. When that came to an end, a\nlarge portion of Britain had fallen under the sway of the Picts,\nSaxons, and Scots. By Scots are meant the Irish, who after their\ninvasion of Alba gave the present name to Scotland. But it must be\ndistinctly understood that the only Scots known in the first ten or\neleven centuries, to writers on British affairs, were Irish.\n\nIn alliance with the Picts and Saxons, Niall of the Nine Hostages\npoured down on Britain and exacted tribute from the conquered\npeople. In 388 he carried his arms further and plundered Brittany.\nIn 396 the Irish supremacy was resisted by Stilicho, and for a while\nshaken; it was reimposed in 400. In 405, Niall invaded Gaul, and was\nassassinated there on the shores of the English Channel.\n\nIn 406 Stilicho a second time endeavoured to repel the\nHiberno-Pictic allies, but, unable to do much by force of arms,\nentered into terms with them, for Gildas speaks of the Romans as\nmaking confederates of Irish. Doubtless Stilicho surrendered to them\ntheir hold over and the tribute from the western part of Britain.\nAnd now I must tell a funny story connected with the introduction of\nlap-dogs into Ireland. It comes to us on the authority of Cormac,\nking-bishop of Cashel, who died in 903, and who wrote a glossary of\nold Irish words becoming obsolete even in his day.\n\n\"The slave of the Haft,\" says he, \"was the name of the first lap-dog\nthat was known in Erin. Cairbre Musc was the man who first brought\nit there out of Britain. At that time the power of the Gadhaels\n(Scots or Irish) was great over the Britons; they had divided Albion\namong them into farms, and each of them had a neighbour and friend\namong the people.\" Then he goes on to say how that they established\nfortresses through the land, and founded one at Glastonbury. \"One\nof those divisions of land is Dun Map Lethan, in the country of the\nBritons of Cornwall.\" This lasted to A.D. 380.\n\nNow Cairbre was wont to pass to and fro between Britain and Ireland.\n\nAt this time lap-dogs were great rarities, and were highly prized.\nNone had hitherto reached Ireland. And Cairbre was desirous of\nintroducing one there when he went to visit his friends. But the\npossessors of lap-dogs would on no account part with their treasures.\n\nNow it happened that Cairbre had a valuable knife, with the handle\ngold-inlaid. One night he rubbed the haft over with bacon fat, and\nplaced it before the kennel of the lap-dog belonging to a friend.\nThe dog gnawed at the handle and sadly disfigured it.\n\nNext morning Cairbre made a great outcry over his precious knife,\nand showed his British host how that the dog had disfigured it. The\nBriton apologised, but Cairbre promptly replied, \"My good friend,\nare you aware of the law that 'the transgressor is forfeit for his\ntransgression?' Accordingly I put in a legal claim to the dog.\" Thus\nhe became its owner, and gave it the name of Mogh-Eimh, or the Slave\nof the Haft.\n\nThe dog was a bitch, and was with young when Cairbre carried her\nover to Ireland. The news that the wonderful little beast had\narrived spread far and wide, and the king of Munster and the chief\nking, Cormac Mac Airt (227-266) both laid claim to it; the only way\nin which Cairbre could satisfy them was to give each a pup when\nhis lap-dog had littered. So general was the amazement over the\nsmallness and the beauty of the original dog, that some verses were\nmade on it, which have been preserved to this day.\n\n    \"Sweet was your drink in the house of Ailil (King of Munster)!\n    Sweet was your meat in the house of Cormac!\n    Fair was your bread in the house of Cairbre!\n    O doggie, Slave of the Hilt!\"\n\nIt was probably during the Irish domination that a large portion of\nNorth Devon and East Cornwall was colonised from the Emerald Isle.\n\nBut to return to the Saxon conquest. When Athelstan drove the\nBritons out of Exeter and made the Tamar their limit, it is not to\nbe supposed that he devastated and depopulated Devon; what he did\nwas to destroy the tribal organisation throughout Devon, banish the\nprinces and subjugate the people to Saxon rule.\n\nThe Saxon colonists planted themselves in \"Stokes\" mostly in the\nvalleys. The Celts had never been anything of a town-building\npeople; they had lived scattered over the land in their _treffs_ and\n_boths_, and only the retainers of a chieftain had dwelt around his\n_dun_.\n\nBut with the Saxons, the fact that they lived as a few surrounded\nby an alien population that in no way loved them, obliged them to\nhuddle together in their \"Stokes.\" Thus towns sprang into existence,\nand bear Saxon names.\n\nIt is probable that the yeomen of the land at the present day\nrepresent the Saxon; and most assuredly in the great body of the\nagricultural labourers, the miners, and artisans, we have mainly a\nmixture of British and Ivernian blood.\n\nThroughout the Middle Ages, and indeed till this present century,\nthere can have been no easy, if possible, passage out of the\nlabouring community into that of the yeoman class--hardly into\nthat of tenant farmer; whereas the yeomen and the tradesmen, wool\nmerchants and the like, were incessantly feeding the class of\n_armigeres_, squires; and their descendants supplied the nobility\nwith accretions.\n\nThere is, perhaps, in the east of Devon a preponderating element of\nSaxon, but I have observed in the Seaton and Axminster district so\nmuch of the dark hair and eye, that I believe there is less than is\nsupposed, and that there is a very large understratum of the earlier\nSilurian. Perhaps in North Devon there may be more of the Saxon.\nWest of Okehampton there is really not much difference between the\nDevonian and the Cornishman, but of this more presently.\n\nIt is remarkable that the Devonshire dialect prevails in Cornwall\nabove a diagonal line drawn from Padstow to Saltash, on the Tamar;\nwest of this and below it the dialect is different. This is probably\ndue to the Cornish tongue having been abandoned in the west and\nsouth long subsequent to its disappearance in the north-east. But\nthis line also marks the limits of an Irish-Gwentian occupation.\n\nThe dialect is fast dying out, but the intonation of the voice will\nremain long after peculiar words have ceased to be employed.\n\nThe \"z\" has a sound found nowhere else, due to the manner in which\nthe tongue is turned up to the palate for the production of the\nsound; \"ou\" and \"oo\" in such words as \"you\" and \"moon\" is precisely\nthat of the French _u_ in \"lune.\"\n\nGender is entirely disregarded; a cow is a \"he,\" who runs dry, and\nof a cock it is said \"her crows in the morn.\" But then the male\nrooster is never a cock, but a stag.\n\nThe late Mr. Arnold, inspector of schools, was much troubled about\nthe dialect when he came into the county. One day, when examining\nthe school at Kelly, he found the children whom he was questioning\nvery inattentive.\n\n\"What is the matter with you?\" he asked testily.\n\n\"Plaaze, zur, us be a veared of the apple-drayne.\"\n\nIn fact, a wasp was playing in and out among their heavily oiled\nlocks.\n\n\"Apple-drayne!\" exclaimed Mr. Arnold. \"Good gracious! You children\ndo not seem to know the names of common objects. What is that bird\nyonder seated on the wall?\" And he pointed out of the window at a\ncock.\n\n\"Plaaze, zur, her's a stag.\"\n\n\"I thought as much. You do not know the difference between a biped\nand a quadruped.\"\n\nI was present one day at the examination of a National School by\nH.M. Inspector.\n\n\"Children,\" said he, \"what form is that?\"\n\n\"A dodecahedron.\"\n\n\"And that?\"\n\n\"An isosceles triangle.\"\n\n\"And what is the highest peak in Africa?\"\n\n\"Kilima Ndjaro.\"\n\n\"Its height?\"\n\n\"Twenty thousand feet.\"\n\n\"And what are the rivers that drain Siberia?\"\n\n\"The Obi, the Yenesei, and the Lena.\"\n\nNow in going to the school I had plucked a little bunch of\nspeedwell, and I said to the inspector, \"Would you mind inquiring of\nthe children the name of this plant?\"\n\n\"What is this plant?\" he demanded.\n\nNot a child knew.\n\n\"What is the river that flows through your valley?\"\n\nNot a child knew.\n\n\"What is the name of the highest peak of Dartmoor you see yonder?\"\n\nNot a child knew.\n\nAnd this is the rubbish in place of education that at great cost is\ngiven to our children.\n\nEducation they do not get; stuffing they do.\n\nThey acquire a number of new words, which they do not understand and\nwhich they persistently mispronounce.\n\n\"Aw my! isn't it hot? The prepositions be runin' all hover me.\"\n\n\"Ay! y\u00fc'm no schollard! I be breakin' out wi' presbeterians.\"\n\nThe \"oo\" when followed by an \"r\" has the sound \"o\" converted into\n\"oa\"; thus \"door\" becomes \"doar.\"\n\n\"Eau\" takes the sound of the modified German \"\u00fc\"; thus \"beauty\" is\npronounced \"b\u00fcty.\"\n\n\"Fe\" and \"g\" take \"y\" to prolong and emphasise them; thus \"fever\"\nbecomes \"feyver,\" and \"meat\" is pronounced \"mayte.\"\n\n\"F\" is frequently converted into \"v\"; \"old father\" is \"ole vayther.\"\nBut on the other hand \"v\" is often changed to \"f,\" as \"view\" into\n\"f\u00fc.\"\n\nThe vowel \"a\" is always pronounced long; \"landed\" is \"l\u0101nded,\"\n\"plant\" is \"pl\u0101nt.\" \"H\" is frequently changed into \"y\"; \"heat\" is\nspoken of as \"yett,\" \"Heathfield\" becomes \"Yaffel,\" and \"hall\" is\n\"yall.\"\n\n\"I\" is interjected to give greater force, and \"e\" is sounded as\n\"a\"; \"flesh\" is pronounced \"flaish.\" \"S\" is pronounced \"z,\" as in\nexamples already given. \"O\" has an \"ou\" sound in certain positions,\nas \"going,\" which is rendered \"gou-en.\" \"S\" in the third person\nsingular of a verb is \"th,\" as \"he grows,\" \"a grawth,\" \"she does\" is\n\"her d\u00fcth.\"\n\nHere is a form of the future perfect: \"I shall 'ave a-bin an' gone\nvur t\u00fc d\u00fc it.\"\n\nThere is a decided tendency to soften harsh syllabic conjunctions.\nThus Blackbrook is Blackabrook, and Matford is Mattaford; this is\nthe Celtic interjected _y_ and _ty_.\n\nThis is hardly a place for giving a list of peculiar words; they\nmay be found in Mrs. Hewett's book, referred to at the end of this\nchapter, and collected by the committee on Devonshire provincialisms\nin the _Transactions of the Devonshire Association_.\n\nAs a specimen of the dialect I will give a couple of verses of a\npopular folk song.\n\n    \"The g\u00fcg\u00fc es a purty burd,\n      'Er zingeth as er vlieth;\n    'Er bring'th g\u00fcde tidin's,\n      'Er tell'th naw lies;\n    'Er zucketh swate vlowers\n      Tu kaype 'er voice clear,\n    An' whan 'er zingeth g\u00fcg\u00fc\n      Tha zummer dr\u0101eth near.\n\n    \"Naw \u0101ll yu vair maidens\n      Wheriver y\u00fc be,\n    Your 'earts d\u00fc nat 'ang 'em\n      On a zicamore tree.\n    The layfe it will wither,\n      The mores (roots) will decay;\n    Ah me, I be waistin'\n      An' vaydin' away.\"\n\nThe Devonian and Cornishman will be found by the visitor to\nbe courteous and hospitable. There is no roughness of manner\nwhere unspoiled by periodic influx of strangers; he is kindly,\ntender-hearted, and somewhat suspicious. There is a lack of firmness\nof purpose such as characterises the Scotchman; and a lively\nimagination may explain a slackness in adhesion to the truth. He\nis prone to see things as he would like them to be rather than as\nthey are. On the road passers-by always salute and have a bit of\na yarn, even though personally unacquainted; and to go by in the\ndark without a greeting is a serious default in good manners. A\nvery marked trait especially noticeable in the Cornish is their\nindependence. Far more intimately than the inhabitants of any other\npart of England, they are democrats. This they share with the Welsh;\nand, like the Welsh, though politically they are Radicals, are\ninherently the most conservative of people.\n\nIt is a peculiarity among them to address one another by the\nChristian name, or to speak of a man by the Christian name along\nwith the surname, should there be need to distinguish him from\nanother. The term \"Mr.\" is rarely employed. A gentleman is \"Squire\nSo-and-so,\" but not a mister; and the trade is often prefixed to the\nname, as Millard Horn, or Pass'n John, or Cap'n Zackie.\n\nThere is no form of enjoyment more relished by a West Country man\nor woman than a \"buryin'.\" Business occupations are cast aside when\nthere is to be a funeral. The pomp and circumstance of woe exercise\nan extraordinary fascination on the Western mind, and that which\nconcerns the moribund person at the last is not how to prepare the\nsoul for the great change, but how to contrive to have a \"proper\ngrand buryin'.\" \"Get away, you rascal!\" was the address of an irate\nurchin to another, \"if you gie' me more o' your sa\u0101ce you shan't\ncome to my buryin'.\" \"Us 'as enjoyed ourselves bravely,\" says a\nmourner, wiping the crumbs from his beard and the whiskey-drops from\nhis lips; and no greater satisfaction could be given to the mourners\nthan this announcement.\n\nOn the other hand a wedding wakes comparatively little interest; the\nparents rarely attend.\n\nThe looks of Devonshire and Cornish lasses are proverbial. This\nis not due to complexion alone, which is cream and roses, but to\nthe well-proportioned limbs, the litheness of form, uprightness of\ncarriage, and to the good moulding of the features. The mouth and\nchin are always well shaped, and the nose is straight; in shape the\nfaces are a long oval.\n\nI am not sure that West Country women ever forget that they were\nonce comely. An old woman of seventy-five was brought forward to be\nphotographed by an amateur: no words of address could induce her to\nspeak till the operation was completed; then she put her finger into\nher mouth: \"You wouldn't ha' me took wi' my cheeks falled in? I just\nstuffed the _Western Marnin' News_ into my mouth to fill'n out.\"\n\nAlthough both in Devon and Cornwall there is great independence and\na total absence of that servility of manner which one meets with in\nother parts of England, it would be a vast mistake to suppose that a\nWest Country man is disrespectful to those who are his superiors--if\nhe has reason to recognise their superiority; but he does not like\na \"foreigner,\" especially one from the North Country. He does not\nrelish his manner, and this causes misunderstanding and mutual\ndislike. He is pleased to have as his pass'n, as his squire, as a\nresident in his neighbourhood, a man whom he knows all about, as to\nwho were his father and his grandfather, as also whence he hails. A\nclergyman who comes from a town, or from any other part of England,\nhas to learn to understand the people before they will at all take\nto him. \"I have been here five years,\" said a rector one day to me,\na man transferred from far, \"and I don't understand the people yet,\nand until I understand them I am quite certain to be miscomprehended\nby them.\"\n\nThe West Country man must be met and addressed as an equal. He\nresents the slightest token of approach _de haut en bas_, but he\nnever presumes; he is always respectful and knows his place; he\nvalues himself, and demands, and quite rightly, that you shall show\nthat you value him.\n\nThe other day a bicyclist was spinning down the road to Moreton\nHampstead. Not knowing quite where he was, and night approaching, he\ndrew up where he saw an old farmer leaning on a gate.\n\n\"I say, you Johnnie, where am I? I want a bed.\"\n\n\"You'm fourteen miles from Wonford Asylum,\" was the quiet response,\n\"and fourteen from Newton Work'us, and fourteen from Princetown\nPrison, and I reckon you could find quarters in any o' they--and\nsuitable.\"\n\n[Illustration: CLOVELLY FISHERMEN]\n\nWith regard to the Cornish people, I can but reiterate what has\nalready been said relative to the Western folk generally. What\ndifferences exist in character are not due to difference of race,\nbut to that of occupation. The bulk of Cornishmen in the middle and\nwest have been associated with mines and with the sea, and this is\ncalculated to give to the character a greater independence, and\nalso to confer a subtle colour, different in kind to that which is\nproduced by agricultural labour. If you take a Yorkshireman from\none side of the Calder or Aire, where factory life is prevalent,\nand one from the other side, where he works in the fields, you will\nfind as great, if not a greater, difference than you will between\na Devonshire and a Cornish man. Compare the sailors and miners on\none side of the Tamar with those on the other, and you will find no\ndifference at all.\n\nThere will always be more independence in miners who travel\nabout the world, who are now in Brazil, then in the African\ndiamond-fields, next at home, than in the agricultural labourer, who\nnever goes further than the nearest market town. The mind is more\nexpanded in the one than in the other; but in race all may be one,\nthough differing in ideas, manners, views, speech.\n\nI venture now to quote freely from an article on Cornishmen that is\nwritten by an outsider, and which appeared in a review.\n\n     \"The dweller in Cornwall comes in time to perceive the constant\n     recurrence of various types of man. Of these, two at least\n     are well marked, very common, and probably of great antiquity\n     and significance. The man of the first type is slender,\n     lithe, graceful, usually rather short; the face is smooth and\n     delicately outlined, without bony prominences, the eyebrows\n     finely pencilled. The character is, on the whole, charming,\n     volatile, vivacious, but not always reliable, and while\n     quick-witted, rarely capable of notable achievement or strenuous\n     endeavour. It is distinctly a feminine type. The other type is\n     large and solid, often with much crispy hair on the face and\n     shaggy eyebrows. The arches over the eyes are well marked and\n     the jaws massive; the bones generally are developed in these\n     persons, though they would scarcely be described as raw-boned;\n     in its extreme form a face of this type has a rugged prognathous\n     character which seems to belong to a lower race.\"\n\nUsually the profile is fine, with straight noses; and a well-formed\nmouth, with oval, rather long face is general, the chin and mouth\nbeing small. I do not recall at any time meeting with the \"rummagy\"\nfaces, with no defined shape, and ill-formed noses that one\nencounters in Scotland.\n\nThere is a want of the strength and force such as is encountered in\nthe North; but on the other hand there is remarkable refinement of\nfeature.\n\nI had at one time some masons and workmen engaged upon a structure\njust in front of my dining-room windows, and a friend from\nYorkshire was visiting me. The men working for me were perhaps fine\nspecimens, but nothing really extraordinary for the country. One,\na tall, fair-haired, blue-eyed mason, my friend at once designated\nLohengrin; and he was the typical knight of the swan--I suspect a\npure Celt. Another was not so tall, lithe, dark, and handsome. \"King\nArthur\" was what my friend called him.\n\nThe writer, Mr. Havelock Ellis, whom I have already quoted,\ncontinues:--\n\n     \"The women are solid and vigorous in appearance, with\n     fully-developed breasts and hips, in marked contrast with the\n     first type, but resembling women in Central and Western France.\n     Indeed, the people of this type generally recall a certain\n     French type, grave, self-possessed, deliberate in movement,\n     capable and reliable in character. I mention these two types\n     because they seem to me to represent the two oldest races of\n     Cornwall, or, indeed, of England. The first corresponds to\n     the British neolithic man, who held sway in England before\n     the so-called Celts arrived, and who probably belonged to the\n     so-called Iberian race; in pictures of Spanish women of the best\n     period, indeed, and in some parts of modern Spain, we may still\n     see the same type. The second corresponds to the more powerful,\n     and as his remains show, the more cultured and \u00e6sthetic Celt,\n     who came from France and Belgium.... When these types of\n     individual are combined, the results are often very attractive.\n     We then meet with what is practically a third type: large,\n     dignified, handsome people, distinguished from the Anglo-Saxon\n     not only by their prominent noses and well-formed chins, but\n     also by their unaffected grace and refinement of manner. In many\n     a little out-of-the-world Cornish farm I have met with the men\n     of this type, and admired the distinction of their appearance\n     and bearing, their natural instinctive courtesy, their kindly\n     hospitality. It was surely of such men that Queen Elizabeth\n     thought when she asserted that all Cornishmen are courtiers.\n\n     \"I do not wish to insist too strongly on these types which\n     blend into one another, and may even be found in the same\n     family. The Anglo-Saxon stranger, who has yet had no time to\n     distinguish them, and who comes, let us say, from a typically\n     English county like Lancashire, still finds much that is\n     unfamiliar in the people he meets. They strike him as rather\n     a dark race, lithe in movement, and their hands and feet are\n     small. Their hair has a tendency to curl, and their complexions,\n     even those of the men, are often incomparable. The last\n     character is due to the extremely moist climate of Cornwall,\n     swept on both sides by the sea-laden Atlantic. More than by\n     this, however, the stranger accustomed to the heavy, awkward\n     ways of the Anglo-Saxon clodhopper will be struck by the bright,\n     independent intelligence and faculty of speech which he finds\n     here. No disguise can cover the rusticity of the English rustic;\n     on Cornish roads one may often meet a carman whose clear-cut\n     face, bushy moustache, and general bearing might easily add\n     distinction to Pall Mall.\"\n\nThere are parts of Devon and of Cornwall where the dark type\nprevails. \"A black grained man\" is descriptive of one belonging to\nthe Veryan district, and dark hair and eyes, and singular beauty\nare found about the Newlyn and St. Ives districts. The darkest type\nhas been thrust into corners. In a fold of Broadbury Down in Devon,\nin the village of Germansweek, the type is mainly dark; in that of\nNorth Lew, in another lap of the same down, it is light. It has\nbeen noticed that a large patch of the dusky race has remained in\nBedfordshire.\n\nThe existence of the dark eyes and hair and fine profiles has been\nattempted to be explained by the fable that a Spanish vessel was\nwrecked now here, now there, from the Armada, and that the sailors\nremained and married the Cornish women. I believe that this is\npurely a fable. The same attempt at solution of the existence of the\nsame type in Ireland and in Scotland has been made, because people\nwould not understand that there could be any other explanation of\nthe phenomenon.\n\nI have been much struck in South Wales, on a market day, when\nobserving the people, to see how like they were in build, and\ncolour, and manner, and features to those one might encounter at a\nfair in Tavistock, Launceston, or Bodmin.\n\nI positively must again quote Mr. Havelock Ellis on the Cornish\nwoman, partly because his description is so charmingly put, but also\nbecause it is so incontestably true.\n\n     \"The special characters of the race are often vividly shown\n     in its women. I am not aware that they have ever played a\n     large part in the world, whether in life or art. But they are\n     memorable enough for their own qualities. Many years ago, as a\n     student in a large London hospital, I had under my care a young\n     girl who came from labour of the lowest and least skilled order.\n     Yet there was an instinctive grace and charm in all her ways and\n     speech which distinguished her utterly from the rough women of\n     her class. I was puzzled then over that delightful anomaly. In\n     after years, recalling her name and her appearance, I knew that\n     she was Cornish, and I am puzzled no longer. I have since seen\n     the same ways, the same soft, winning speech equally unimpaired\n     by hard work and rude living. The Cornish woman possesses an\n     adroitness and self-possession, a modulated readiness of speech,\n     far removed from the awkward heartiness of the Anglo-Saxon\n     woman, the emotional inexpressiveness of the Lancashire lass\n     whose eyes wander around as she seeks for words, perhaps\n     completing her unfinished sentence by a snap of the fingers.\n     The Cornish woman--at all events while she is young and not\n     submerged by the drudgery of life--exhibits a certain delightful\n     volubility and effervescence. In this respect she has some\n     affinity with the bewitching and distracting heroines of Thomas\n     Hardy's novels, doubtless because the Wessex folk of the South\n     Coast are akin to the Cornish. The Cornish girl is inconsistent\n     without hypocrisy; she is not ashamed of work, but she is very\n     fond of jaunts, and on such occasions she dresses herself, it\n     would be rash to say with more zeal than the Anglo-Saxon maiden,\n     but usually with more success. She is an assiduous chapel-goer,\n     equally assiduous in flirtations when chapel is over. The pretty\n     Sunday-school teacher and leader of the local Band of Hope\n     cheerfully confesses as she drinks off the glass of claret you\n     offer her that she is but a poor teetotaller. The Cornish woman\n     will sometimes have a baby before she is legally married; it is\n     only an old custom of the county, though less deeply rooted than\n     the corresponding custom in Wales.\"[2]\n\n  [2] _The New Century Review_, April, 1897.\n\nThe Cornish are, like the Welsh, intensely religious, but according\nto their idea religion is emotionalism and has hardly enough to do\nwith morality.\n\n     \"So Mr. So-and-So is dead,\" in reference to a local preacher. \"I\n     fear he led a very loose life.\"\n\n     \"Ah! perhaps so, but he was a sweet Christian.\"\n\nHere is something illustrative at once of West Country religion and\ndialect. I quote from an amusing paper on the \"Recollections of a\nParish Worker\" in the _Cornish Magazine_ (1898):--\n\n     \"'How do you like the vicar?' I asked. 'Oh, he's a lovely man,'\n     she answered, 'and a 'ansome praicher--and such a voice! But\n     did 'ee hear how he lost un to-day? Iss, I thought he would\n     have failed all to-wance, an' that wad have bin a gashly job.\n     But I prayed for un an' the Lord guv it back to un again, twice\n     as loud, an' dedn't 'ee holler! But 'ee dedn't convart me. I\n     convarted meself. Iss a ded. I was a poor wisht bad woman. Never\n     went to a place of worship. Not for thirty years a hadn't a\n     bin. One day theer came word that my brother Willum was hurted\n     to the mine. So I up an' went to un an' theer he was, all scat\n     abroad an' laid out in scritches. He was in a purty stank, sure\n     'nuff. But all my trouble was his poor sowl. I felt I must get\n     he convarted before he passed. I went where he was to, an' I\n     shut home the door, an' I hollered an' I rassled an' I prayed to\n     him, an' he nivver spoke. I got no mouth spaich out of him at\n     awl, but I screeched and screeched an' prayed until I convarted\n     myself! An' then I be to go to church. Iss, we awl have to come\n     to it, first an' last, though I used to say for christenings an'\n     marryin's an' berrin's we must go to church, but for praichin'\n     an' ennytheng for tha nex' wurld give me the chapel; still, I\n     waanted to go to church an' laive everybody knaw I wur proper\n     chaanged. So I pitched to put up my Senday go-to-mittun bonnet,\n     an' I went. An' when I got theer aw! my blessed life 'twas\n     Harvest Thanksgivin', an' when I saw the flowers an' the fruit\n     an' the vegetables an' the cotton wool I was haived up on end!'\n     And heaved up on the right end she was.\"\n\nThe table of Commandments is with the Cornish not precisely that\nof Moses. It skips, or treats very lightly, the seventh, but it\ncomprises others not found in Scripture: \"Thou shalt not drink any\nalcohol,\" and \"Thou shalt not dance.\"\n\nOn Old Christmas Day, in my neighbourhood, a great temperance\nmeeting was held. A noted speaker on teetotalism was present and\nharangued. A temperance address is never relished without some\nhorrible example held up to scorn. Well, here it was. \"At a certain\nplace called ----, last year, as Christmas drew on, the Guardians\nmet to decide what fare should be afforded to the paupers for\nChristmas Day. Hitherto it had been customary for them to be given\nfor their dinner a glass of ale--a glass of ale. I repeat it--at\npublic cost--a glass of ale apiece. On that occasion the Guardians\nunanimously agreed that the paupers should have cocoa, and not\nale. Then up stood the Rector--the Rector, I repeat--and in a loud\nand angry voice declared: 'Gentlemen, if you will not give them\ntheir drop of ale, I will.' And he--he, a minister of the gospel\nor considering himself as such.\"--(A shudder and a groan.) \"I tell\nyou more--I tell you something infinitely worse--he sent up to the\nwork-house a dozen of his old crusted port.\" (Cries of \"Shame!\nshame!\" and hisses.)\n\n_That_, if you please, was the unpardonable sin.\n\nIf we are to look anywhere for local characteristics in the music\nof the people in any particular part of England, we may surely\nexpect to find them in the western counties of Somerset, Devon, and\nCornwall. These three counties have hitherto been out of the beaten\ntrack; they are more encompassed by the sea than others, and lead\nonly to the Land's End.\n\nAnd as a matter of fact, a large proportion of the melodies that\nhave been collected from the peasantry in this region seem to have\nkept their habitation, and so to be unknown elsewhere.\n\nI take it for granted that they are, as a rule, home productions.\nThe origin of folk-song has been much debated, and it need not\nbe gone into now. But it would be vain to search for local\ncharacteristics in anything that has not a local origin.\n\nIn folk-song, then, we may expect to see reflected the\ncharacteristics of the race from which it has sprung, and, as in the\ncounties of Devon and Cornwall on one side and Somersetshire on the\nother, we are brought into contact with two, at least, races--the\nBritish and the Saxon--we do find two types of melody very distinct.\nOf course, as with their dialects, so with their melodies, the\ndistinctions are sometimes marked, and sometimes merged in each\nother. The Devonshire melodies have some affinity with those\nof Ireland, whilst the Somersetshire tunes exhibit a stubborn\nindividuality--a roughness, indeed, which is all their own.\n\nTaking first the Devonshire songs, I think one cannot fail to\nbe struck with the exceeding grace and innate refinement which\ndistinguish them. These qualities are not always perceptible in the\nperformance of the songs by the untutored singers; nor do the words\nconvey, as a rule, any such impressions, but evident enough when\nyou come to adjust to their proper form the music which you have\nsucceeded in jotting down. It surprises you. You are not prepared\nfor anything like original melody, or for anything gentle or\ntender. But the Devonshire songs are so. Their thought is idyllic.\nThrough shady groves melodious with song, the somewhat indolent\nlover of Nature wanders forth without any apparent object save\nthat of \"breathing the air,\" and (it must be added) of keeping an\nopen eye for nymphs, one of whom seldom fails to be seeking the\nsame seclusion. Mutual advances ensue; no explanations are needed;\nconstancy is neither vowed nor required. The casual lovers meet and\npart, and no sequel is appended to the artless tale.\n\nSentiment is the staple of Devonshire folk-song; it is a trifle\nunwholesome, but it is unmistakably graceful and charming. Take such\nsongs as \"By chance it was,\" \"The Forsaken Maiden,\" \"The Gosshawk,\"\n\"Golden Furze;\" surely there is a gush of genuine melody and the\nspirit of poetry in such tunes.\n\nIn some respects the folk-song of Devonshire is rather\ndisappointing. There is no commemoration, no appreciation, of her\nheroes. The salt sea-breeze does not seem to reach inland, save to\nwhisper in a wailing tone of \"The Drowned Lover,\" or the hapless\n\"Cabin Boy.\" Sea-songs may be in her ports, but they were not born\nthere.\n\nNor are the joys of the chase proclaimed with such robustness as\nelsewhere, any more than are the pleasures and excitements of the\nflowing bowl. This may be attributed to the same refinement of\ncharacter of which I have spoken.\n\nA pastoral and peace-loving community will not be expected to\ndevelop any special sense of humour. Devonshire is by no means\ndeficient in it, but it is of a quiet sort, a sly humour something\nallied to what the Scotch call \"pawky,\" of which \"Widicombe Fair\"\nis as good an example as can be had. Of what may be called the\nreligious element, save in Christmas and Easter carols, I have never\ndiscovered any trace.\n\nThe Rev. H. Fleetwood Sheppard, who has spent ten years in\ncollecting the melodies of Devon and Cornwall, says of them, \"I have\nfound them delightful, full of charm and melody. I never weary of\nthem. They are essentially poetical, but they are also essentially\nthe songs of sentiment, and their one pervading, almost unvarying\ntheme is--The Eternal Feminine.\"\n\nWhen we pass into Somersetshire the folk-music assumes quite a\ndifferent character. The tenderness, the refinement have vanished.\nJudging from their songs, we might expect to find the Somersetshire\nfolk bold, frank, noisy, independent, self-assertive; and this\nview would be quite in keeping with their traditional character.\nIn Shakespeare's time bandogs and bull baiting were the special\ndelight of the country gentry,[3] and Fuller describes the natives\nof Taunton Dean as \"rude, rich, and conceited.\" If one turn to the\nmusic, \"Richard of Taunton Dean,\" or \"Jan's Courtship,\" \"George\nRiddler's Oven,\" and the like, are in entire keeping with the\ncharacter of the people as thus depicted. There is vigour and _go_\nin their songs, but no sweetness; ruggedness, no smoothness at all;\nand it is precisely this latter quality that marks the Cornish and\nDevonshire airs.\n\n  [3] See M. DRAYTON'S _Polyolbion_ on this.\n\nTake such a tune as that to which the well-known hunting song of\nDevon, \"Arscott of Tetcott,\" is wedded. The air is a couple of\ncenturies older than the words, for the Arscott whom the song\nrecords died in 1788, though we can only trace the tune back\nto D'Urfey at the end of the seventeenth century. The music is\nimpetuous, turbulent, excited, it might be the chasing the red\ndeer on Exmoor; the hunt goes by with a rush like a whirlwind to a\nsemi-barbarous melody, which resembles nothing so much as that of\nthe spectral chase in Der Freisch\u00fctz.\n\nBut Somersetshire song can be tender at times, though not quite\nwith the bewitching grace of Devonia. There is a charming air which\nfound its way from the West up to London some sixty years ago, the\noriginal words of which are lost, but the tune became immensely\npopular under the title of \"All round my hat,\" a vulgar ditty sung\nby all little vulgar boys in the streets. The tune is well worth\npreserving. It is old, and there is a kind of wail about it which is\ntouching.\n\nBut who were the composers of these folk-airs? In the old desks in\nwest galleries of churches remain here and there piles of MS. music:\nanthems, and, above all, carols, the composition of local musicians\nunknown beyond their immediate neighbourhood, and now unknown even\nby name.\n\nA few years ago I was shown such a pile from Lifton Church. I saw\nanother great library, as I may call it, that was preserved in the\nrack in the ceiling of a cottage at Sheepstor, the property of\nan old fiddler, now dead. I saw a third in Holne parish. I have\nseen stray heaps elsewhere. Mr. Heath, of Redruth, published two\ncollections from Cornwall and one from Devon, the latter from\nthe Lifton store in part, to which I had directed his attention.\nI cannot doubt that some of the popular tunes that are found\ncirculating among our old singers--or to be more exact, were\nfound--were the composition of these ancient village musicians.\nAlas! the American organ and the strident harmonium came in and\nrouted out the venerable representatives of a musical past; and the\nmusic-hall piece is now driving away all the sound old traditional\nmelody, and the last of the ancient conservators of folk-song makes\nhis bow, and says:--\n\n    \"I be going, I reckon, full mellow,\n      To lay in the churchyard my head,\n    So say--God be wi' you, old fellow!\n      The last of the zingers is dead.\"\n\n     NOTE.--For the history of Devon: WORTH (R. N.), _History of\n     Devonshire_. London, 1886. For Devonshire dialect: HEWETT(S.),\n     _The Peasant Speech of Devon_. E. Stock. London, 1892. For\n     Devonshire folk-music: _Songs of the West_. Methuen. London,\n     1895. (3rd ed.) _A Garland of Country Song_. Methuen. London,\n     1895.\n\n     For most of what has been said above on the folk-songs of Devon\n     I am indebted to the Rev. H. Fleetwood Sheppard, who has made it\n     his special study.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nVILLAGES AND CHURCHES\n\n     Devonshire villages not so picturesque as those of Sussex and\n     Kent--Cob and stone--Slate--Thatch and whitewash--Churches\n     mostly in the Perpendicular style--Characteristics of\n     that style--Foliage in stone--Somerset towers--Cornish\n     peculiarities of pinnacles--Waggon-headed roofs--Beer and\n     Hatherleigh stone--Polyphant--Treatment of granite--Wood-work\n     in Devon churches--Screens--How they have been treated by\n     incumbents--Pulpits--Bench-ends--Norman fonts--Village\n     crosses--How the Perpendicular style maintained itself in the\n     West--Old mansions--Trees in Devon--Flora--The village revel.\n\n\nA Devonshire village does not contrast favourably with those in\nEssex, Kent, Sussex, and other parts of England, where brick or\ntimber and plaster are the materials used, and where the roofs are\ntiled.\n\nBut of cottages in the county there are two kinds. The first, always\ncharming, is of _cob_, clay, thatched. Such cottages are found\nthroughout North Devon, and wherever the red sandstone prevails.\nThey are low, with an upper storey, the windows to which are small,\nand the brown thatch is lifted above these peepers like a heavy,\nsleepy brow in a very picturesque manner. But near Dartmoor stone\nis employed, and an old, imperishable granite house is delightful\nwhen thatched. But thatch has given way everywhere to slate, and\nwhen the roof is slated a great charm is gone. There is slate and\nslate. The soft, silvery grey slate that is used in South Devon\nis pleasing, and when a house is slated down its face against the\ndriving rains, and the slates are worked into patterns and are\nsmall, they are vastly pretty. But architects are paid a percentage\non the outlay, and it is to their profit to use material from a\ndistance; they insist on Welsh or Delabole slate, and nothing can\nbe uglier than the pink of the former and the chill grey of the\nother--like the tint of an overcast sky in a March wind.\n\n[Illustration: SHEEPSTOR]\n\nI once invited an architect to design a residence on a somewhat\nlarge scale. He did so, and laid down that Delabole slate should be\nemployed with bands of Welsh slate of the colour of beetroot. \"But,\"\nsaid I, \"we have slate on the estate. It costs me nothing but the\nraising and carting.\"\n\n\"I dislike the colour,\" said he. \"If you employ an architect, you\nmust take the architect's opinion.\"\n\nI was silenced. The same day, in the afternoon, this architect and I\nwere walking in a lane. I exclaimed suddenly, \"Oh, what an effect of\ncolour! Do look at those crimson dock-leaves!\"\n\n\"Let me see if I can find them,\" said the architect. \"I am\ncolour-blind, and do not know red from green.\"\n\nIt was an incautious admission. He had forgotten about the slates,\nand so gave himself away.\n\nThe real objection, of course, was that my own slates would cost me\nnothing. But also of course he did not give me that reason.\n\nWhere the slate rocks are found, grauwacke and schist, there the\ncottages are very ugly--could not well be uglier--and new cottages\nand houses that are erected are, as a rule, eyesores.\n\nHowever, we have in Devon some very pretty villages and clusters of\ncottages, and the little group of roofs of thatch and glistening\nwhitewashed walls about the old church, the whole backed by limes\nand beech and elm, and set in a green combe, is all that can be\ndesired for quiet beauty; although, individually, each cottage may\nnot be a subject for the pencil, nor the church itself pre-eminently\npicturesque.\n\nThe churches of Devonshire belong mainly to the Perpendicular style;\nthat is to say, they were nearly all rebuilt between the end of the\nfourteenth and the sixteenth centuries.\n\nOf this style, this is what Mr. Parker says: \"The name is derived\nfrom the arrangement of the tracery, which consists of perpendicular\nlines, and forms one of its most striking features. At its first\nappearance the general effect was usually bold and good; the\nmouldings, though not equal to the best of the Decorated style,\nwere well defined; the enrichments effective and ample without\nexuberance, and the details delicate without extravagant minuteness.\nSubsequently it underwent a gradual debasement: the arches became\ndepressed; the mouldings impoverished; the ornaments crowded, and\noften coarsely executed; and the subordinate features confused\nfrom the smallness and complexity of their parts. A leading\ncharacteristic of the style, and one which prevails throughout its\ncontinuance, is the square arrangement of the mouldings over the\nheads of doorways, creating a spandrel on each side above the arch,\nwhich is usually ornamented with tracery, foliage, or a shield. The\njambs of doorways are generally moulded, frequently with one or more\nsmall shafts.\"\n\nThe style is one that did not allow of much variety in window\ntracery. The object of the adoption of upright panels of glass was\nto allow of stained figures in glass of angels filling the lights,\nas there had been a difficulty found in suitably filling the\ntracery of the heads of the windows with subjects when these heads\nwere occupied by geometrical figures composed of circles and arcs\nintersecting.\n\nIn the west window of Exeter Cathedral may be seen a capital\nexample of \"Decorated\" tracery, and in the east window one in the\n\"Perpendicular\" style.\n\nSkill in glass staining and painting had become advanced, and the\nwindows were made much larger than before, so as to admit of the\nintroduction of more stained glass.\n\nPointed arches struck from two centres had succeeded round\narches struck from a single centre, and now the arches were made\nfour-centred.\n\nFoliage in carving had, under Early English treatment, been\nrepresented as just bursting, the leaves uncurling with the breath\nof spring. In the Decorated style the foliage is in full summer\nexpansion, generally wreathed round a capital. Superb examples of\nDecorated foliage may be seen in the corbels in the choir at Exeter.\nIn Perpendicular architecture the leaves are crisped and wrinkled\nwith frost.\n\nIn Devonshire the earlier towers had spires. When the great wave\nof church building came over the land, after the conclusion of the\nWars of the Roses, then no more spires were erected, but towers with\nbuttresses, and battlemented and pinnacled square heads. In the\ncountry there are no towers that come up to the splendid examples in\nSomersetshire; but that of Chittlehampton is the nearest approach to\none of these.\n\nIn the Somerset towers the buttresses are frequently surmounted by\nopen-work pinnacles or small lanterns of elaborate tabernacle work,\nand the parapets or battlements are of open tracery; but in Devon\nthese latter are plain with bold coping, and the pinnacles are well\ndeveloped and solid, and not overloaded with ornament. Bishop's\nNympton, South Molton, and Chittlehampton towers are locally\ndescribed as \"Length,\" \"Strength,\" and \"Beauty.\"\n\nA fine effect is produced when the turret by which the top of the\ntower is reached is planted in the midst of one side, usually the\nnorth; and it is carried up above the tower roof. There are many\nexamples. I need name but Totnes and Ashburton.\n\nA curious effect is produced among the Cornish towers, and those\nnear the Tamar on the Devon side, of the pinnacles being cut so as\nto curve outwards and not to be upright. The effect is not pleasant,\nand the purpose is not easily discoverable; but it was possibly done\nas being thought by this means to offer less resistance to the wind.\n\nThe roofs are usually \"waggon-headed.\" The open timber roof, so\nelaborated in Norfolk, is not common. A magnificent example is,\nhowever, to be seen in Wear Gifford Hall. But cradle roofs do exist,\nand in a good many cases the waggon roofs are but ceiled cradle\nroofs. A good plain example of a cradle roof is in the chancel of\nIpplepen, and a very rich one at Beaford.\n\nThe mouldings of the timbers are often much enriched. A fine example\nis Pancras Week. The portion of the roof over the rood-screen is\nfrequently very much more elaborately ornamented than the rest. An\nexample is King's Nympton, where, however, before the restoration,\nit was even more gorgeous than at present. The waggon roof presents\nimmense advantages over the open timber roof; it is warmer; it is\nbetter for sound; it is not, like the other, a makeshift. It carries\nthe eye up without the harsh and unpleasant break from the walling\nto the barn-like timber structure overhead.\n\nWherever white Beer stone or rosy Hatherleigh stone could be had,\nthat was easily cut, there delicate moulding and tracery work was\npossible; but in some parts of the county a suitable stone was\nlacking. In the neighbourhood of Tavistock the doorways and windows\nwere cut out of Roborough stone, a volcanic tufa, full of pores,\nand so coarse that nothing refined could be attempted with it.\nNear Launceston, however, were the Polyphant quarries, the stone\nalso volcanic, but close-grained and of a delicate, beautiful grey\ntone. This was employed for pillars and window tracery. The fine\nDecorated columns of Bratton Clovelly Church, of a soft grey\ncolour, are of this stone. The run of the stone was, however,\nlimited, and was thought to be exhausted. It was not till the\nPerpendicular style came in that an attempt was made to employ\ngranite. The experiment led to curious results. The tendency of\nthe style is to flimsiness, especially in the mouldings; but the\nobduracy of the material would not allow of delicate treatment, and\nthe Perpendicular mouldings, especially noticeable in doorways, are\noften singularly bold and effective. A _tour de force_ was effected\nat Launceston Church, which is elaborately carved throughout in\ngranite, and in Probus tower, in Cornwall. For beauty in granite\nwork Widecombe-in-the-Moor tower cannot be surpassed; there the\ntower is noble and the church to which it belongs is mean. In using\nHam Hill stone or Beer stone, that was extracted in blocks, the\npillars, the jambs of doors and windows were made of several pieces\nlaid in courses and cut to fit one another. But when the architects\nof Perpendicular times had to deal with granite there was no need\nfor this; they made their pillars and jambs in single solid blocks.\nA modern architect, bred to Caen stone or Bath oolite, sends down\na design for a church or house to be erected near Dartmoor, or in\nCornwall, and treats the granite as though it came out of the quarry\nin small blocks; and the result is absurd. An instance of this\nblundering in treatment is the new east window of Lanreath Church,\nCornwall, designed by such a \"master in Israel\" as Mr. Bodley. The\nporch doorway is in six stones, one for each base, one for each\njamb, and two form the arch. The old windows are treated in a\nsimilar fashion--each jamb is a single stone. But Mr. Bodley has\nbuilt up his new window of little pieces of granite one foot deep.\nThe effect is bad. Unhappily, local architects are as blind to local\ncharacteristics as London architects are ignorant of them. So also,\nwhen these gentry attempt to design hood mouldings, or indeed any\nmouldings, for execution in granite, they cannot do it--the result\nis grotesque, mean, and paltry: they think in Caen stone and Bath,\nand to design in granite a man's mind must be made up in granite.\n\nIn Cornwall there are some good building materials capable of\nornamental treatment, more delicate than can be employed in granite.\nSuch are the Pentewan and Catacleuse stones. The latter is gloomy in\ncolour, but was used for the finest work, as the noble tomb of Prior\nVivian, in Bodmin Church.\n\nAs stone was an intractable material, the Devonshire men who desired\nto decorate their churches directed their energies to oak carving,\nand filled them with very finely sculptured bench-ends and screens\nof the most elaborate and gorgeous description.\n\nSo rich and elaborate are these latter, that when a church has to be\nrestored the incumbent trembles at the prospect of the renovation of\nhis screen, and this has led to many of them being turned out and\ndestroyed. South Brent screen was thus wantonly ejected and allowed\nto rot. Bridestowe was even worse treated: the tracery was cut in\nhalf and turned upside down, and plastered against deal boarding--to\nform a dwarf screen.\n\n\"What will my screen cost if it be restored?\" asked a rector of Mr.\nHarry Hems.\n\n\"About four hundred pounds.\"\n\n\"Four hundred pounds! Bless me! I think I had best have it removed.\"\n\n\"Very well, sir, be prepared for the consequences. Your name will go\ndown to posterity dyed in infamy and yourself steeped in obloquy.\"\n\n\"You don't mean to say so?\"\n\n\"Fact, sir, I assure you.\"\n\nThat preserved the screen.\n\nThen, again, some faddists have a prejudice against them. This has\ncaused the destruction of those in Davidstow and West Alvington.\nOthers, however, have known how to value what is the great treasure\nin their churches entrusted to their custody, and they have\npreserved and restored them. Such are Staverton, Dartmouth, Totnes,\nHarberton, Wolborough. That there must have been in the sixteenth\ncentury a school of quite first-class carvers cannot be doubted, in\nface of such incomparable work as is seen in the pulpit and screen\nof Kenton. But if there was good work by masters there was also some\npoor stuff, formal and without individual character--such as the\nscreens at Kenn and Laneast.\n\nThe pulpits are also occasionally very rich and of the same date as\nthe screens. There are noble examples of stone pulpits elaborately\ncarved at South Molton, Bovey Tracey, Chittlehampton, and Harberton,\nand others even finer in wood, as Holne, Kenton, Ipplepen, Torbrian.\n\n[Illustration: HOLNE PULPIT AND SCREEN]\n\nAmong churches which have fine bench-ends may be noted Braunton,\nLapford, Colebrook, Horwood, Broadwood Widger (dated 1529), North\nLew (also dated), Plymtree, Lew Trenchard, Peyhembury.\n\nSeveral early fonts remain of Norman style, and even in some\ncases perhaps earlier. The finest Norman fonts are Stoke Canon,\nAlphington, S. Mary Steps (Exeter), Hartland, and Bere Ferrers. In\nthe west, about the Tamar, one particular pattern of Norman font was\nreproduced repeatedly; and it is found in several churches. There\nare a number of village crosses remaining, a very fine one at South\nZeal; also at Meavy, Mary Tavy, Staverton, Sampford Spiney, Holne,\nHele, and some extremely rude on Dartmoor.\n\nThere was a churchyard cross at Manaton. The Rev. C. Carwithen, who\nwas rector, found that the people carried a coffin thrice round it,\nthe way of the sun, at a funeral; although he preached against the\nusage as superstitious, they persisted in doing so. One night he\nbroke up the cross, and removed and concealed the fragments. It is a\npity that the cross did not fall on and break his stupid head.\n\nIt is interesting to observe how late the Perpendicular style\nmaintained itself in the West. At Plymouth is Charles Church,\nerected after the Restoration, of late Gothic character. So also\nare there aisles to churches, erected after the Reformation, of\ndebased style, but nevertheless distinctly a degeneration of the\nPerpendicular.\n\nIn domestic architecture this is even more noticeable.\nGranite-mullioned windows and four-centred doorways under square\nhoods, with shields and flowers in the spandrels, continued in use\ntill the beginning of the eighteenth century.\n\nA very large number of old mansions, belonging to the squirearchy of\nElizabethan days, remain. The Devonshire gentry were very numerous,\nand not extraordinarily wealthy. They built with cob, and with\noak windows, or else in stone with granite mullions, but neither\nmaterial allowed of great splendour. A house in granite cost about\nthree times as much as one of a like size in brick.\n\nThe mansions are too numerous to be mentioned. One who is desirous\nof seeing old houses should provide himself with an inch to the\nmile Ordnance Survey map, and visit such houses as are inserted\nthereon in Old English characters. Unhappily, although this serves\nas a guide in Cornwall, the county of Devon has been treated in a\nslovenly manner, and in my own immediate neighbourhood, although\nsuch a fine example existed as Sydenham House, it remained\nunnoticed; and the only two mansions indicated in Old English were a\ncouple of ruins, uninhabited, that have since disappeared. Where the\none-inch fails recourse must be had to the six-inch map.\n\nDevonshire villages and parks cannot show such magnificent trees as\nthe Midlands and Eastern counties. The elm grows to a considerable\nsize on the red land, but the elm is much exposed to be blown\nover in a gale, especially when it has attained a great size. Oak\nabounds, but never such oak as may be seen in Suffolk. The fact is\nthat when the tap-root of an oak tree touches rock the tree makes no\nprogress, and as the rock lies near the surface almost throughout\nthe county, an oak tree does not have the chance there that it does\nin the Eastern counties, where it may burrow for a mile in depth\nwithout touching stone.\n\nMoreover, situated as the county is between two seas, it is\nwindblown, and the trees are disposed to bend away from the\nprevailing south-westerly and westerly gales. But if trees do not\nattain the size they do elsewhere, they are very numerous, and the\ncounty is well wooded. Its rocks and its lanes are the homes of\nthe most beautiful ferns that grow with luxuriance, and in winter\nthe moors are tinted rainbow colours with the mosses. The flora is\nvaried with the soil. What thrives on the red land perishes on the\ncold clay; the harebell, which loves the limestone, will not live on\nthe granite, and does not affect the schist.\n\nThe botanist may consult Miss Helen Saunders' \"Botanical Notes\" in\nthe _Transactions of the Devonshire Association_; Miss Chaunters'\n_Ferny Combes_; and the appendix to Mr. Rowe's _Dartmoor_.\n\nThe village revel was till twenty years ago a great institution, and\na happy though not harmless one. But it has died out, and it is now\nsometimes difficult to ascertain, and then only from old people,\nthe days of the revel in the several villages. In some parishes,\nhowever, the clergy have endeavoured to give a better tone to the\nold revel, which was discredited by drunkenness and riot, and their\nefforts have not been unsuccessful. The clubs march to church on\nthat day, and a service is given to them.\n\nOne of the most curious revels was that at Kingsteignton, where a\nram was hunted, killed, roasted, and eaten. The parson there once\nasked a lad in Sunday School, \"How many Commandments are there?\"\n\"Three, sir,\" was the prompt reply; \"Easter, Whitsuntide, and the\nRevel.\"\n\nAnother, where a sheep was devoured after having been roasted whole,\nwas at Holne. At Morchard, the standing dish at farmhouses on Revel\nday was a \"pestle pie,\" which consisted of a raised paste, kept in\noval shape by means of iron hoops during the process of baking,\nbeing too large to be made in a dish. It contained all kinds of\nmeat: a ham, a tongue, whole poultry and whole game, which had been\npreviously cooked and well seasoned.\n\nThe revel, held on the _r\u00e9veil_ or wake of the saint of the parish,\nwas a relic of one of the earliest institutions of the Celts. It was\nanciently always held in the cemetery, and was attended by funeral\nrites in commemoration of the dead. This was followed by a fair, and\nby a deliberative assembly of the clan, or subdivision of a clan, of\nwhich the cemetery was the tribal centre. It was the dying request\nof an old Celtic queen that her husband would institute a fair above\nher grave.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nHONITON\n\n     One long street--The debatable ground--Derivation of the\n     name--Configuration of the East Devon border--Axminster--The\n     Battle of Brunnaburgh--S. Margaret's Hospital--Old camps--S.\n     Michael's Church--Colyton--Little Chokebone--Sir George\n     Yonge--Honiton lace--Pillow-lace--Modern design--Ring in the\n     Mere--Dunkeswell.\n\n\n\"This town,\" said Sir William Pole in 1630, \"is near three-quarters\nof a mile in length, lying East and West, and in the midst there is\none other street towards the South.\" The description applies to-day,\nexcept only that the town has stretched itself during two hundred\nand eighty years to one mile in place of three-quarters. A quarter\nof a mile in about three centuries, which shows that Honiton is not\na place that stands still.\n\nIt is, in fact, a collection of country cottages that have run to\nthe roadside to see the coaches from London go by, and to offer the\npassengers entertainment.\n\nThe coach-road occupies mainly the line of the British highway, the\nIkenild Street, a road that furnished the chief means of access to\nthe West, as the vast marshes of the Parret made an approach to the\npeninsula from the North difficult and dangerous.\n\nAnd the manner in which every prominent height has been fortified\nshows that the whole eastern boundary of the county has been a\ndebated and fiercely contested land, into which invaders thrust\nthemselves, but from which they were hurled back.\n\nHoniton is on the Otter (_y dwr_, W. the Water) a name that we find\nfarther west in the Attery, that flows into the Tamar. Honiton does\nnot derive from \"honey,\" flowing with milk and honey though the land\nmay be, but from the Celtic _hen_ (old), softened in a way general\nin the West into _hena_ before a hard consonant.\n\nWe have the same appellative in Hennacott, Honeychurch, and\nHoneydykes, also in Hembury, properly Henbury, and in Hemyock.\nPerhaps the old West Welsh name for the place was Dunhen, or\nHennadun, which the Saxons altered into Hennatun or Honeyton.\n\nThe singular configuration of the eastern confines of Devon and\nDorset has been ingeniously explained. Till 1832 the two parishes\nof Stockland and Dalwood belonged to the county of Dorset, although\nsurrounded entirely by Devon. In 710 a great battle was fought by\nIna, King of the West Saxons, against Geraint, King of the Dumnonii,\nthe West Welsh, on the Black Down Hills, when Geraint was defeated\nand fled. Then Ina built Taunton, and made it a border fortress\nto keep the Britons in check. Simultaneously, there can be little\ndoubt, the men of Dorset took advantage of the situation, made an\ninroad and secured a large slice of territory, possibly up to the\nOtter.\n\nIna was succeeded by inert princes, or such as had their hands\nengaged elsewhere, and the Devonians thrust themselves forward,\nretook Taunton, and advanced their borders to where they had been\nbefore 710.\n\nIt has been supposed that on this occasion they were unable to\ndispossess the Dorset men from their well-fortified positions at\nStockland and Dalwood, but swept round them and captured the two\ncamps of Membury and Musbury. The possession of these fortresses\nwould thrust back the Dorset frontier for some miles to the east of\nthe Axe. So matters would remain for a considerable period, such\nas allowed the boundaries to become settled; and when the final\nsubjugation of Devon took place, this tract to the east of the Axe\nremained as part of the lands of the Defnas, while the Dorsaetas\nretained the islet which they had so long and so successfully\ndefended. It was not till eleven hundred and twenty years had\nelapsed that the Devon folk could recover these points.[4]\n\n  [4] DAVIDSON, \"The Saxon Conquest of Devonshire,\" in the\n  _Transactions of the Devonshire Association_, 1877.\n\nAxminster was the scene of a great battle in the reign of Athelstan,\nin which five kings and seven earls fell. The minster, as a monastic\ncolony, had been in existence before that, but Athelstan now endowed\na college there for six priests to pray for the souls of those who\nfell in the battle.\n\nNow, what battle can that have been? In the register of Newnham\nAbbey is a statement made in the reign of Edward III., that the\nbattle took place \"at Munt S. Calyxt en Devansyr,\" and that it\nended at Colecroft under Axminster. S. Calyxt is now Coaxdon.\n\nThe only great battle that answers to the description was that of\nBrunanburgh, fought in 937.\n\nIt was fought between Athelstan and the Ethelings, Edmund, Elwin\nand Ethelwin, on one side, and Anlaf the Dane, from Ireland, united\nwith Constantine, the Scottish king, on the other. It is this latter\npoint which has made modern historians suppose that the conflict\ntook place somewhere in the North.\n\nBut, on the other hand, there are grave reasons for placing it at\nAxminster.\n\nFirst, we know of no other battle that answers the description.\nThen, during the night before it, the Bishop of Sherborne arrived\nat the head of a contingent. The two younger Ethelings who fell\nwere transported to Malmesbury to be buried; clearly because it\nwas the nearest great monastery. And it seems most improbable that\nAthelstan should have endowed Axminster that prayers might there be\noffered for those who fell in the battle, if Brunanburgh were in\nNorthumberland. The difficulty about Constantine may thus be solved.\nConstantine had been expelled his kingdom by Athelstan, and had\ntaken refuge in Ireland. He had, indeed, been restored, but when he\nresolved on revolt, he may have gone to Dublin to Anlaf, and have\nconcerted with him an attack on the South, where the assistance\nof the Britons in Devon and Cornwall might be reckoned on, whilst\nthe North British would rise, and the Welsh descend from their\nmountains.\n\nThe story of the battle is this, as given by William of Malmesbury.\n\nThe Danes from Dublin, together with Constantine and a party of\nScots (Irish), came by sea, and fell upon England. Athelstan and his\nbrother marched against them. Just before the battle Anlaf, desirous\nof knowing the disposition of the English forces, entered the camp\nin the garb of a gleeman, harp in hand. He sang and played before\nAthelstan and the rest, and they did not recognise him. As they were\npleased with his song, they gave him a largess of gold. He took the\nmoney, but as he left the camp, he put it under the earth, as it did\nnot behove a king to receive hire. This was observed by a soldier,\nwho at once went to Athelstan and informed him of it. The king\nsaid angrily, \"Why did you not at once arrest him and deliver him\ninto my hands?\" \"My lord king,\" answered the man, \"I was formerly\nwith Anlaf, and I took oath of fidelity to him. Had I broken that,\nwould you have trusted me? Take my advice, O king, and shift your\nquarters.\"\n\nThis was good advice, and Athelstan acted on it, but scarcely had he\nshifted his quarters than Werstan, Bishop of Sherborne, arrived, and\nhe took up the ground vacated by the king.\n\nDuring the night Anlaf made an attack and broke through the\nstockade, and directed his course towards the king's tent. There\nhe fell on and killed the bishop, and massacred the Sherborne\ncontingent. The tumult roused the king, and the fight became\ngeneral, and raged till day. Great numbers fell on both sides, but\nin the end Anlaf was defeated, and fled to his ships. The only trace\nof the name Brunanburgh is in Brinnacombe, under the height whereon\ntraditionally the fight raged; and Membury may be the place where\nthe king was fortified. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle calls the place\nBrumby: _B_ and _M_ are permutable letters.\n\nHoniton has not many relics of antiquity about it. Repeated fires\nhave destroyed the old houses; the High Street still retains its\nrunnel, confined within a conduit, with square dipping-places at\nfrequent intervals. The street runs straight down hill to the bridge\nand across the Giseage, and up again on the road towards Exeter. The\ntown is completely surrounded by toll-gates; the tolls collected do\nnot go to pay for the maintenance of the roads, but to defray a debt\nincurred by removing buildings, including the ancient shambles, from\nthe middle of the street early in the century. This accounts for the\nstreet being particularly wide.\n\nThe Dolphin, the principal inn, is supposed to still possess some\nportion of the ancient building once belonging to the Courtenays,\nwhose cognisance is the inn sign.\n\nS. Margaret's Hospital is one of the points of interest, and is\npicturesquely pretty. It was intended as a leper hospital, but is\nnow used as almshouses. It was built and endowed by Dr. Thomas\nChard, the last abbot of Ford.\n\nOne thing no visitor should fail to see, and that is the superb\nview from Honiton Hill. It commands the valley of the Otter,\nwith the town beneath, and the old earthworks of Hembury Fort,\nBuckerell Knap, and Dumpdon towering above. The flat-topped hills\nand the peculiar scarps are due to the formation being greensand.\nThese scarps may be observed in process of shaping at the head\nof every combe. The church of S. Paul in the town is modern and\nuninteresting. It occupies the site of an old chapel of All Hallows.\nThe parish church is S. Michael's on the hill, and this contains\npoints of interest. The fifteenth-century screen is of carved\noak, and stretches across nave and both aisles. The church was\nformerly cruciform, but north and south aisles were added to nave\nand chancel. Probably it formerly had a central tower. Four carved\nbeams now support the roof where the tower should be, and bear\nsculptured bosses, representing an angel, a bishop, a priest, and a\nman in armour. Two finely carved capitals in the chancel carry the\nsentence, \"Pray for ye souls of John Takel and Jone his wyffe.\" They\nwere liberal benefactors to the church and the town.\n\nThe view from the churchyard is magnificent. On a suitable day\nCosdon Beacon on Dartmoor is visible. A row of cypresses in the\nchurchyard was transplanted from the garden of Sir James Shepperd\n(d. 1730).\n\nIn old times the parsons of Honiton were supposed to have been\naddicted to field sports, perhaps unfairly, just as one hunting\nabbot gave a bad name to all the abbots of Tavistock. Barclay, in\nhis _Ship of Fools_, says:--\n\n    \"For if any can flatter and beare a hawke on his fist,\n    He shall be made parson of Honington or of Clist.\"\n\nThere is much deserving of visit within reach of Honiton, Colyton\nwith its fine church, and the tomb of \"Little Chokebone,\" a good\nmonument, long supposed to be that of Margaret, daughter of William,\nEarl of Devon, and Katherine his wife, seventh daughter of Edward\nIV., who was supposed to have been choked by a fish-bone in 1512.\nBut there is evidence that the lady lived long after the date of her\npresumed death. What also tells fatally against the identification\nis that the arms of Courtenay are impaled with the royal arms,\nsurrounded by the bordering compon\u00e9e, the well-known token of\n_bastardy_. Now this belonged to the Beauforts, and the tomb is\neither that of Margaret Beaufort, wife of Thomas, first Earl of\nDevon, of that name, or else of one of their daughters.\n\nOf Colcombe House, the great Courtenay, and then the Pole seat,\nbut a fragment remains. At Colyton is the Great House, a fine old\nbuilding, once the residence of the Yonges. The last of the family,\nSir George Yonge, was wont to say that he came in for \u00a380,000 family\nproperty, received as much as his wife's jointure, obtained a\nsimilar sum in the Government offices he enjoyed, but that Honiton\nhad \"swallowed it all\" in election expenses. And when he stood for\nthe last time there, in embarrassed circumstances; because he could\nnot bribe as heavily as formerly, one of the burgesses spat in his\nface. He died in 1812, aged eighty, a pensioner in Hampton Court,\nand his body was brought down very privately to Colyton from fear of\narrest for debt. Another old house is Sand, the seat of the Huyshe\nfamily.\n\n[Illustration: HONITON LACE]\n\nHoniton has become famous for its lace, although actually the\nmanufacture does not take place to any considerable extent in the\ntown, but in villages, as Beer, Branscombe, Ottery, etc.\n\nIn the beginning of the sixteenth century Honiton was a centre of\na flourishing trade in bone-lace, but how it was introduced is\nvery uncertain. It has been supposed, but not proved, that Flemish\nrefugees came to Honiton and introduced the art, but one does not\nquite see why they should have come so far. There is an inscription\non a tombstone in Honiton churchyard to James Rodge, bone-lace\nseller, who died July 27th, 1617, and bequeathed to the poor of the\nparish the benefit of a hundred pounds. A similar bequest was made\nin the same year by Mrs. Minifie, a lace maker, so that both lace\ndealer and maker may have carried on their business for thirty years\nbefore they died.\n\nIn the latter part of James I.'s reign Honiton lace is frequently\nmentioned by contemporary writers. Westcote, in his _View of Devon_,\n1620, says, \"At Axminster you may be furnished with fine flax-thread\nthere spunne. At Hemington and Bradnich with bone-laces now greatly\nin request.\" Acts were passed under Charles I. for the protection of\nthe bone-lace makers, \"prohibiting foreign purles, cut works, and\nbone-laces, or any commodities laced or edged therewith;\" and these\nbenefited especially the Devonshire workers, their goods being close\nimitations of the much-coveted Flemish pillow-laces.\n\nPillow-lace was preceded in England, as elsewhere, by darned netting\nand cut-work. A fine example of the ancient English net embroidery\nmay be seen on the monument, in Exeter Cathedral, of Bishop\nStafford, who died in 1398.\n\nThe pillow was introduced in the early part of Elizabeth's reign,\nand at first coarse thread-laces of geometrical design were worked\non to it. Plaited and embroidered edgings, or _purles_, for the\nruff, worked in silk, gold and silver wire, or thread came next, and\nformed the staple article during the first half of the seventeenth\ncentury. The patterns were imitated from Italian cut-work and\nreticella, with some marked peculiarities of workmanship and detail,\nsuch as the introduction of stars, wheels, and triangles, which are\nonly found on English laces. The sculptor of Lady Pole's monument in\nColyton Church (1623), evidently copied the bone-lace on her cape\nfrom a specimen of Devonshire make, and equally characteristic of\nthe ancient patterns of the county is the probably plaited lace on a\ntucker and cuffs that adorn the effigy of Lady Doddridge in Exeter\nCathedral (1614). Illustrations of these interesting examples of\nearly Devonshire workmanship are given in Mrs. Palliser's \"History\nof Lace.\"[5]\n\n  [5] \"Antique and Modern Lace,\" in the _Queen_, 1874. The last\n  chapter is devoted to Honiton Lace.\n\nThere is another very fine specimen in Combe Martin Church, the\neffigy of Judith Hancock (1637). The figure is life-size, and the\ndress is covered with point-lace and looped with points of ribbon.\n\nThe reason of the coarseness of early lace was that pins were\nrare and fetched a high price, and the humble workers in cottages\nemployed fish-bones about which to twist their threads, stuck into\nthe parchment in the shape of the pattern. The bobbins were made of\n\"sheeps' trotters.\" It is now very difficult to procure specimens of\nthis fishbone-lace.\n\nThe lace produced by James Rodge and his contemporaries had large\nflowing guipure patterns, united by _bride_ picotees, the latter\nworked in with the Brussels ground. _Brides_ are the small stripes\nor connection of threads overcast with stitches which bind the\nsprigs together. The English lace-makers could not make this\nexquisite stitch with the thread that England produced, and the\nthread was brought from Antwerp. At the end of last century it cost\nfrom \u00a370 to \u00a3100 per pound. Old Brussels lace was made on pillows,\nwhile the modern Brussels is worked with needles.\n\nThe visitor to Honiton, Beer, or any village around may see\nlace-making on pillows. The women have round or oval boards, stuffed\nso as to form a cushion, and placed on the knees of the worker: a\npiece of parchment is fixed over the pillow, with the pattern drawn\non it; into this the pins are stuck through holes marked for the\npurpose. Often as many as four hundred bobbins are employed at a\ntime on a pillow. Many of the \"bobbins\" and \"turns\" to be seen in\nDevonshire cottages are very old: the most ancient are inlaid with\nsilver. On some, dates are carved, such as 1678 or 1729. On some,\nChristian names are cut, such as John and Nicholas; probably those\nof the sweethearts of the girls who used them. Jingles, or strings\nof glass beads, may be seen hanging to them, with a button at the\nend, which came from the waistcoat of the John or the Nicholas who\nhad given the bobbin as a keepsake. What life-stories some of these\nold bobbins could tell![6]\n\n  [6] The _Devon and Exeter Gazette_, December 31st, 1885.\n\nChildren began to make lace as early as four years old; indeed,\nunless early trained to the work their hands never acquire deftness.\nBoard schools and compulsory education are destroying the ability to\nwork as of old, as well as too often killing the desire for work in\nthe hearts of the children.\n\nBoys and girls were formerly taught alike, and in some of the\nseaside villages fishermen took up their pillows for lace-making\nwhen ashore.\n\n_Guipure \u00e0 bride_ and scalloped-border laces in the Louis XIV. style\nwere followed by laces grounded with Brussels _vraie r\u00e9seau_. In\nthe working of the latter, Devonshire hands were decidedly superior\nto their Continental rivals. This beautiful ground, which sold at\nthe rate of a shilling the square inch, was either worked in on the\npillow after the pattern had been finished, or used as a substratum\nfor lace strips to be sewn on. The detached bouquets of the Rococo\nperiod, and the Mechlin style of design towards the end of last\ncentury, eminently suited the Devon lace-workers, as dividing the\nlabour. Each individual hand could be entrusted with the execution\nof a floral design, which was repeated mechanically. The superior\nfinish of the Honiton sprigs between 1790 and 1815 was mainly due to\nthis, but it was fatal to all development of the artistic faculty\nand to general deftness. During this period Honiton produced the\nfinest laces in Europe. What greatly conduced to the improvement of\nHoniton lace was the arrival of Normandy refugees at the outbreak of\nthe French Revolution in 1793. The Normans were quicker and sharper\nthan the Devon workers, and they stirred them up to great advance in\ntheir work. They taught them to make trolly lace, which is worked\nround the pillow instead of on it; and through their example the\nDevonshire women gave up the slovenly habit of working the ground\ninto which they had slipped, and returned to the old double-threaded\n_r\u00e9seau_, or ground like the old Flemish, the flowers worked into\nthe ground with the pillow, instead of being _appliqu\u00e9_.\n\nHoniton lace made in proper fashion with sprigs was formerly paid\nfor by covering the work with shillings.\n\nThere is a curious notice of Honiton lace in a note by Dr. James\nYonge; who \"was again at Honiton, April 23rd, 1702,\" and witnessed\nthe rejoicings in celebration of the coronation of Queen Anne.\n\n     \"Saw a very pretty procession of three hundred girls in good\n     order, two and two march with three women drummers beating, and\n     a guard of twenty young men on horseback. Each of the females\n     had a white rod in her hand, on the top of which was a tossil\n     made of white and bleu ribband (which they said was the Queen's\n     coleurs) and bone-lace, the great manufacture. Then they had\n     wandered about the town from ten in the morning [it was eight in\n     the evening when he saw them] huzzaing every now and then, and\n     then wearing their rodds. Then they returned at nine, and then\n     break up very weary and hungary.\"[7]\n\n  [7] Quoted in \"Some Seventeenth Century Topography,\" _Western\n  Morning News_, May 9th, 1876.\n\nTaste declined during the latter part of last century, and some\nof the designs of Honiton lace were truly barbarous--frying-pans,\nsnails, drumsticks, and stiff flowers. But there were always some\nwho did better. At the beginning of this century all taste was\nbad. Bald imitations of nature prevailed, without any regard to\nthe exigencies of art. Roses and other flowers were worked in\nperspective; it was thought sufficient to servilely copy nature and\nleave grouping to chance.\n\nQueen Adelaide had a dress made of Honiton lace. By her desire all\nthe flowers were copied from nature, and the first letter of each\nspelt her name.\n\n  Amaranth.\n  Daphne.\n  Eglantine.\n  Lilac.\n  Auricula.\n  Ivy.\n  Dahlia.\n  Eglantine.\n\nThe present Queen also had her wedding-dress of Honiton lace, and it\ncost a thousand pounds.\n\nUnhappily, design sank very low. Perhaps the lowest stage of\ndegradation in design was reached in 1867, when a Honiton lace\nshawl sent to the Paris Exhibition from Exeter received a prize and\ncommendation. Nothing can be conceived worse. That it should have\nbeen rewarded with a medal shows that either the judges pardoned\nthe ineptitude in design for the sake of the excellence of the\nwork, or else that they themselves stood on the same level of\nartistic incompetence which then prevailed. Since then, happily,\ndesign has been more studied. There is still a good deal of very\nsorry stuff produced--as far as artistic design is concerned--but\nat the same time there is much faithful copying of good antique\nwork. All old work is not good; there were bad artists in the past,\nbut the general taste was better than it is now. I was once in the\nshop of one of our foremost furniture dealers and decorators in\ntown, when a young married couple came in to choose curtains and\ncarpets for their new home. I had been talking with the head of the\nestablishment about artistic furniture, and he had shown me carpets,\ncurtains, and wall-papers, such as no designer in the fifteenth,\nsixteenth, or seventeenth centuries would have blushed to produce.\nThe young couple passed all these samples by--blind to their merits,\nand pounced on and chose some atrocious stuff, bad in colour and\nbad in art. When they were gone, the proprietor turned to me: \"You\nsee,\" he said, \"the public is still uncultivated; we are forced\nto keep rubbish in our trade to satisfy those whose taste does\nnot rise above rubbish.\" Now it is the same with regard to lace.\nThere is badly designed lace as well as that which is as good as\nanything drawn by a great master in the past. Let the public eye be\ndiscerning to choose the good and reject the evil, and then the poor\nlace-workers will not be set to produce stuff that never ought to\nhave time, labour, eyesight devoted to it.\n\nThere are some trades that are hurtful to those employed in them.\nThe lace-making by machinery at Nottingham is said to induce\ndecline.\n\nThe following letter I have received on the subject of the Honiton\nlace-workers:--\n\n     \"They are most certainly not a short-lived lot--until within the\n     last eight or nine years Mrs. Colley was the youngest worker\n     I knew, and she is fifty-one; Mrs. Raymond is sixty-four.\n     There are a good many over sixty, and several still at work\n     over seventy. I have never had cases of decline come under my\n     notice, and if there was any I must have known it. Until the\n     fresh impetus was given to the trade by exhibitions, the younger\n     workers stopped learning, and there was no school, so that the\n     trade depended on the old ones, and all have to commence the\n     work from five to seven years of age. I think it may fairly be\n     assumed to be at any rate not injurious to health, and judging\n     from the age to which they continue to work, not to the sight\n     either.\"\n\nThus the buyers of lace can do it with a safe conscience.\n\nThere is a woman's name associated with Devon, who was a great\nlanded proprietress and an heiress, and this was Isabella de\nFortibus. She was sister of Baldwin, Earl of Devon, a De Redvers,\nand on his death, without issue, she inherited the splendid estates\nof the earls of Devon, and became Countess of Devon in her own\nright. She, however, also died without issue in 1292.\n\nOn Farway Common, near Honiton, three parishes meet, and there were\nincessant disputes as to the boundary. Isabella decided it thus. She\nflung her ring into the air, and where it fell that was to be the\npoint of junction for Gittisham, Farway, and Honiton. The spot is\nstill called \"Ring-in-the-Mere.\" Such at least is the local legend\naccounting for the name.\n\nIn the neighbourhood of Honiton are the ruins of Dunkeswell Abbey,\nbut they are reduced to a gateway only. It belongs to Mrs. Simcoe,\nof Walford Lodge, Dunkeswell, a handsome house built about the end\nof last century by General Simcoe, famous in the American Revolution\nas the commander of Simcoe's Rangers. He was Governor of San Domingo\nat the time of the insurrection, and afterwards Governor-General\nof Canada. Mrs. Simcoe possesses interesting relics connected with\nhim, as well as Napoleonic relics that belonged to her father,\nLieut.-General Jackson, _aide-de-camp_ to Sir Hudson Lowe at St.\nHelena.\n\nMohuns-Ottery, once a great seat of the Carews, was burnt down in\nthe beginning of this century, and all that remains of the mansion\nare three arches. The Grange, Broadhembury, has been more fortunate;\nit has a magnificent oak-panelled room, with ghost stories attached,\nand there are those alive who declare that they have seen the ghost.\nThe church possesses, among other points of interest, a curious\nwindow with projecting corbels that represent the spirits of the\ngood in happiness within, and the spirits of the bad without in\ndiscomfort--not to put too fine a point on it, as Mr. Snagsby would\nsay.\n\nThere are several fine fortifications, as already said: Dumpden,\naccessible only on foot, and Hembury are the most important.\n\n     Books to be consulted:--\n\n     ROGERS (W. H. H.), _Memorials of the West_. Exeter, 1888.\n\n     FARQUHARSON (A.), _The History of Honiton_. Exeter, _n.d._, but\n     1868 (_scarce_).\n\n     For the Axe Valley: PULMAN (G. P. R.), _The Book of the Axe_.\n     London, 1875.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nA LANDSLIP\n\n     The chalk beds on sand--The subsidence of 1839--The great\n     chasm--Present conditions--The White Cliff--Beer quarries--Jack\n     Rattenbury.\n\n\nThere are a good many more curious things to be seen in England than\nis generally supposed, if we will but go out of the highways to look\nfor them. Certainly one of the most extraordinary and impressive is\nthe great landslip between the mouth of the Axe and Lyme Regis; one\nwhich even extended further west beyond the estuary. On this bit of\ncoast, where Devonshire passes into Dorset, the cliff scenery is\nvery fine. The White Cliff is a magnificent headland that possesses\nthe peculiarity of appearing to lean over preparing to slide into\nthe waves, owing to the inclination of the varicoloured strata of\nwhich it is composed. To understand the phenomenon which occasioned\nthe subsidence of a whole tract of coast with the alteration of the\ncoastline, something must be said of the cause of the catastrophe.\nThe chalk bed striped with lines of glistening black flints is\nsuperposed upon a bed of what is locally termed fox earth, a bed of\ngravel or sand that intervenes between it and the clay beneath. Now\nthe rain that falls on the chalk downs infiltrates and, reaching the\nsand and unable to sink through the clay, breaks out in land springs.\n\nBut where the chalk cliffs start sheer out of the sea, there the\nsprings ooze into the sea itself, and, dissolving the texture of\nthe sandy bed, resolve it into a quicksand, liable at the time of\ngreat floods to be washed out from under the superincumbent chalk.\nShould this take place, there is no help for it, but down the chalk\nbed must go. If you were lying on a bed, and the mattress under your\nfeather bed were pulled away, you would descend, sinking to a depth\nequivalent to the thickness of the subtracted mattress. That is\nplain enough.\n\nNow all along the coast to the east of Lyme Regis there is an\nundercliff--evident tokens of a subsidence of this description which\nhas taken place at some time. When this undercliff has been eaten up\nby the sea, and a fresh face of crag exposed, then again there will\noccur a displacement, a pulling out of the mattress, and down will\ngo the chalk above with all the houses and fields upon it. But the\nsea has not as yet done more than nibble at this undercliff.\n\nIt was not quite so to the west of Lyme. There sheer cliffs of\nglistening white rose above the pebbly shore, so abruptly and with\nsuch slight undulations, that several miles ensued before it was\npossible for those on the height to descend to the beach. Naturally,\nwhere the rain-water percolated through the chalk it formed no\nvalleys with streams.\n\nThus the cliffs stood--for no one knows how long--till the end of\nDecember, 1839.\n\nPrevious symptoms of the approaching convulsion were not altogether\nwanting. Cracks had been observed for more than a week opening along\nthe brow of the Downs, but they were not sufficiently remarkable to\nattract much attention, as such fissures are by no means uncommon\non this bit of coast. However, about midnight of December 24th, the\nlabourers of Mr. Chappel, the farmer who occupied Dowlands (about a\nquarter of a mile inland from the brow of the cliff, and over half\na mile from the nearest points of the approaching convulsion) were\nreturning from a supper given them by their employer, whereat the\nashen faggot had been burnt according to custom, and were making\ntheir way to their cottages, situated near the cliff. Then they\nnoticed that a crack which crossed their path, and which they had\nobserved on their way to the Christmas Eve supper, had widened, and\nthat the land beyond had sunk slightly. Nevertheless they did not\nconsider the matter of great importance, and they went to their\nhomes and to bed. About four o'clock in the morning they were roused\nby their houses reeling, by the concrete floors bursting and gaping,\nand the walls being rent. They started from their beds in great\nalarm, and about six o'clock arrived at the farm to rouse their\nmaster; they had found their escape nearly cut off, as the crack had\nwidened and the land on the sea side had sunk considerably, so that\nthey had, with their wives and children, to scramble up--and that\nwith difficulty, and, in the darkness, with no little danger.\n\nHappily all escaped in time.\n\nDuring Christmas Day there was no great change; parties of the\ncoastguard were stationed on the Downs throughout the ensuing night\nto watch what would happen.\n\nAbout midnight a great fissure began to form which ran in almost\na direct line for three-quarters of a mile. This fissure rapidly\nwidened to 300 feet, descending, as it seemed at first, into the\nvery bowels of the earth, but as the sides fell in it finally was\nchoked at a depth of 150 feet.\n\nOne James Robertson and a companion were at that hour crossing the\nfields which then extended over this tract, and stumbled across a\nslight ridge of gravel, which at first they thought must have been\nmade by some boys, but one of them stepping on to it, down sank\nhis leg, and his companion had to pull him out of a yawning chasm.\nNext moment they saw that the whole surface of turf was starred and\nsplitting in all directions, and they fled for their lives. The\nsound of the rending of the rocks they described as being much like\nthat of the tearing of cloth or flannel. Two other members of the\ncoastguard, who were stationed on the beach, now saw something begin\nto rise out of the sea like the back of a gigantic whale; at the\nsame time the shore of shingles on which they stood lifted and fell,\nlike the heaving of a breast in sleep. The water was thrown into\nviolent agitation, foaming and spouting, and great volumes of mud\nrushed up from below. The great back rose higher and ever higher,\nand extended further till at last it formed a huge reef at a little\ndistance from the beach. This ridge was composed of the more solid\nmatter, chert and other pebbles, that had been in the sand under\nthe chalk, and which by the sinking of the chalk was squeezed out\nlike so much dough. It remained as a reef for some years, but has\nnow totally disappeared, having been carried away by the waves.\n\nAs the great chasm was formed, the masses from the sides falling\nin were, as it were, mumbled and chewed up in the depths, and to\nthe eyes of the frightened spectators sent forth flashes of light;\nthey also supposed that an intolerable stench was emitted from the\nabyss. But this was no more than the odours given out by the violent\nattrition of the cherty sandstone and chalk grinding against each\nother as they descended.\n\nThroughout the 26th the subsided masses of the great chasm continued\nsinking, and the elevated reef gradually rising; but by the evening\nof that day everything had settled very nearly into the position in\nwhich it remains at present, although edges have since lost their\nsharpness and minor rents have been choked.\n\nA writer whose reminiscences have been recently published describes\nbriefly the aspect of the place after the sinkage.\n\n     \"I rode over to see this huge landslip. The greater part of a\n     farm had subsided a hundred feet or more. Hedges and fields,\n     with their crops of turnips, etc., were undisturbed by the fall,\n     and broken off sharply from the ground a hundred feet above.\n     There was a rather dislocated ridge on the shore, which formed\n     a sort of moraine to the slip. On this part were some cottages\n     twisted about, but still holding together, and having their\n     gardens and even their wells attached; yet the shock of the\n     falling mass had been so great as to cause the upheaval of an\n     island off shore.\"\n\nThe aspect of the landslip on the farms of Bindon, Dowlands,\nRousdon, and Pinhay at present is full of interest and of\npicturesque beauty. Ivy has grown luxuriantly and mantles the crags,\nelder bushes have found the sunk masses of rock suitable to their\nrequirements, and in early summer the air is strong with the scent\nof their trusses of flowers, and in autumn the whole subsidence is\nhung with thousands on ten thousands of shining black clusters of\nberries. Above a sea of foliage the white cliffs shoot out in the\nboldest fashion, and out of the gorge start horns, pinnacles of\nchalk of the most fantastic description. The whole is a labyrinth of\nchasms, not to be ventured into with good clothing, as the brambles\ngrow in the wildest luxuriance and are clawed like the paws of a\npanther. But, oh! what blackberries may be gathered there--large,\nsweet, luscious as mulberries. Moreover, the whole sunk region is\na paradise for birds of every description, and not a step can be\ntaken that does not disturb jackdaws, magpies, warblers of every\nkind. One of the cottages that went down has been rebuilt with the\nold material. As already said, it descended at least a hundred feet\nwith its well. The well still flows with water; that, however, is\nnot now marvellous--how it was that it held water previously is the\nextraordinary fact.\n\nAt the extremity of the landslip the visitor will see that there\nis still movement going on, but on a small scale--cracks are still\nforming and extending through the turf. It may be safely said that\nthe landslip between the mouth of the Axe and Lyme Regis is one of\nthe most interesting and picturesque scenes to be found in England.\n\nThere is a good deal more in the neighbourhood to be seen than the\nlandslip at Rousdon and Pinhay. If the cliffs be explored to the\nwest of the mouth of the Axe, they will be found to well repay the\nvisit. The splendid crag of the White Cliff towers above the sea,\nshowing the slanting beds of the cherty matter below the dazzling\nwhite of the chalk, and from their inclination giving to the whole\ncliff an appearance of lurching into the waves. Beyond this is Beer,\na narrow cleft in the hills, in which are fishermen's cottages, many\nof them very picturesque, and above them rises a really excellently\ndesigned modern church.\n\nA walk up the valley leads to the famous Beer quarries that have\nbeen worked for centuries. This splendid building-stone lies below\nthe chalk with flints. There are eight beds, forming a thickness\nof twelve feet four inches, resting on a hard, white, calcareous\nrock five or six feet thick, which reposes in turn on sandstones.\nThere is very little waste from these quarries, which are carried on\nunderground; and all that is seen of them are the yawning portals\nin a face of white cliff. But a shout at the entrance will summon\na workman, who will conduct the visitor through the labyrinth\nunderground. The roof is sustained by large square pillars formed by\nportions of the workable beds left standing.\n\nThe stone is nearly white, and chiefly composed of carbonate of\nlime, with the addition of some argillaceous and silicious matter,\nand a few scattered particles of green silicate of iron. When first\nquarried this stone is somewhat soft, and is easily worked, but it\nrapidly hardens on exposure.\n\nOpposite the new quarry are the mounds that mark the site of the old\nquarry, from which the stone was extracted for Exeter Cathedral. The\nsubterranean passages there are now blocked, but during the time of\nthe European war they were much used by smugglers, who abounded in\nBeer. The _Memoirs of Jack Rattenbury_, the most notorious of these,\nwere published at Sidmouth in 1837, but are not of conspicuous\ninterest. Beer Head has suffered from landslips, and is broken into\nspires of rock in consequence.\n\n     Books on the Landslip, and on Seaton:--\n\n     CONYBEARE and DAWSON, _Memoir and Views of Landslips on the\n     Coast of East Devon_, 1840. A very scarce work.\n\n     HUTCHINSON (P. O.), _Guide to the Landslip near Axmouth_.\n     Sidmouth, 1840.\n\n     DAVIDSON (J. B.), \"Seaton before the Conquest,\" in _Transactions\n     of Devonshire Association_, 1885.\n\n     MUMFORD (G. F.), _Seaton, Beer, and Neighbourhood_. Yeovil,\n     _n.d._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nEXETER\n\n     The river Exe--Roman roads--The Saxons in Devon and\n     Exeter--Saxon and British Exeter--The Battle of\n     Gavulford--S. Boniface at Exeter--His persecution of Celtic\n     missionaries--S. Sidwell--Bishop's seat transferred to\n     Exeter--S. Olave's Church--The Cathedral--Its merits and\n     demerits--Ottery S. Mary--Excursions from Exeter--Fingle\n     Bridge--Fulford--Ecclesiological excursions.\n\n\nExeter, the Isca Dumnoniorum of the Romans, was the Celtic Caer\nWisc; that is to say, the caer or fortress on the Usk. The\nriver-name has become Exe; it derives from the Celtic word which\nsignifies water, and which we have in whiskey and Usquebaugh, _i.e._\nfire-water.\n\nThe same word has become also Ock. Thus the Ockment River at\nOkehampton, a few miles down, becomes the Exe, at Exbourne; and a\ntributary of the Exe is the Oke, that flows into it near Bampton.\n\nThere have been but few Roman remains found in Exeter, and it\ncan never have been an important settlement. Several Roman roads\nconverge on it and radiate from it.\n\nThe great Fosseway, that ran from Lincoln through Leicester,\nreached it. It struck from Honiton, by Rockbeare and Clyst Honiton,\nand shows its antiquity by being the bounds of Broadclyst\nand Rockbeare, Sowton and Pinhoe parishes. It entered Exeter by\nHeavitree. Another Roman road from Lyme Regis enters Exeter by\nWonford, where it joins the Fosseway. This road also proclaims\nits high antiquity by being a parish boundary. From Exeter an\nancient road ran direct for Launceston: it is called in places the\nOld Street. It branched at Okehampton, and a road ran thence to\nStratton, in Cornwall.\n\n[Illustration: HIGH STREET, EXETER]\n\nThe Fosseway continued to Moreton Hampstead, and crossed Dartmoor,\nwhere it has served as the equator of that desolate region; all\nabove it is esteemed the northern half, all below the southern half\nof Dartmoor. Further it has not been traced.\n\nAnother road, the Ridgeway, ran from Exeter to Totnes, and thence\nhas been followed to Plympton Castle.\n\nWhether these roads proceeded far in Cornwall cannot now be\ndetermined.\n\nThat these ways were possibly pre-Roman, but improved by the\nconquerors of the world, is probable. Hard by the roadside at\nOkehampton, in 1898, was found a hoard of the smallest Roman coins,\nall of the reign of Constantine the Great. It had probably formed\nthe store of a beggar who \"sat by the wayside begging.\" He hid it\nunder a rock, and probably died without having removed it. About 200\ncoins were found, all dating from between A.D. 320 and 330.\n\nThe Saxons must have crept in without violent invasion, across\nthe Axe, rather than through the gaps in the Black Down and\nExmoor--for to the north, as already said, the vast morasses\nwere a hindrance--and have established themselves without violent\nopposition by the riversides. Their manner of life was unlike that\nof the Britons. The latter clung to the open highlands, their\n_Gwents_ as they called them, clear of trees, breezy downs; whereas\nthe Saxons, accustomed to forests, made their stockades in the flat\n_hams_ and _ings_ by the rivers, in _worths_ and on _hangers_.\n\nVery probably the Dumnonii suffered their intrusion with reluctance,\nbut they did not venture on forcible resistance, lest they should\nbring down on themselves the vengeance of Wessex.\n\nWhen, however, the Saxons had established themselves in sufficient\nnumbers, they had their headquarters in Exeter; but there they did\nnot amalgamate with the natives. The Saxon town was quite apart\nfrom that occupied by the Britons, or West Welsh, as they called\nour Dumnonians. That part of Exeter which contains dedications to\nCeltic saints was the British town, as was also Heavitree,[8] with\nits daughter churches of S. Sidwell and S. David; but the Saxons\noccupied where now stands the Cathedral; and each settlement was\ngoverned by its own laws. It was not till 823 that Egbert, by a\ndecisive battle at Gavulford (_Gafl_ a holdfast, and _ffordd_\na road), established Saxon supremacy. He apparently drove the\nDevonshire Celts back along the Old Street, or Roman road, past\nOkehampton, till they made a stand at Coombow (_Cwm-bod_ = the\nhabitation in a combe). There the hills close in on the road on both\nsides, and the way branched to Lydford. Commanding both roads is\nGalford Down; there the Britons threw up formidable entrenchments,\nor, what is more probable, occupied an earlier camp that remains\nintact to the present day. Here they made a desperate stand, and\nwere defeated; after which the king, Egbert, cast up a _burgh_\nbeyond the old _dun_, which gives its second name to the place,\nBurleigh, or Burgh-legh. The last relics of the independence of the\nDumnonian kingdom disappeared after Athelstan's visit in 926 and\n928. A relic of this visit may be seen in Rougemont Castle, Exeter,\nwhere the Anglo-Saxon work--notably some herring-bone masonry, and\nwindows rudely fashioned without arches--remains.\n\n  [8] Names of places, as Heavitree, Langtree, Plymtree, take the\n  \"tree\" from the Welsh \"tref,\" a farm or habitation. Heavitree is\n  Tre-hafod, the summer farm.\n\nA Saxon school had been established in Exeter before A.D. 700, to\nwhich S. Boniface, or Wynfrith as he was then called, had been sent.\nHe was a native of Crediton, then a Saxon stockaded settlement, and\nover the palisades, as a boy, he had looked with scorn and hatred\nat the native Britons occupying the country. When he was in Exeter\nhe, in like manner, regarded the native Christians with loathing as\nheretics, because they did not observe Easter on the same day as\nhimself, and perhaps with accentuated hate, because he knew that\nthey had possessed Christian teachers and Christian privileges three\ncenturies before his own people had received the Gospel. Perhaps\nalso his German mind was offended at the freshness, vivacity, and\nmaybe as well the fickleness of purpose of the native Celt. This\nearly acquired aversion lasted through life, and when he went into\nGermany and settled at Mainz, to posture as an apostle, he was\nvexed to discover that Celtic missionaries had preceded him and had\nworked successfully among his Teutonic forefathers in their old\nhomes. Thenceforth he attacked, insulted, and denounced them with\nimplacable animosity, and did his utmost to upset their missions and\nsupplannt them with his own. Virgilius, an Irishman, with a fellow\nPaddy, Sidonius, was at Salzburg, and Virgilius was bishop there.\nBoniface beat about for an excuse to get rid of them both. He found\nthat the bishop, having discovered that one of his priests had been\naccustomed to baptise using a bad Latin formula, had acknowledged\nthis man's baptisms as valid, for the will was present: the fault\nwas due to ignorance of the Latin tongue. Boniface, hearing of this,\nlaid hold of it with enthusiasm, and denounced Virgilius at Rome.\nPope Boniface, however, took the side of the Irishman against his\nover-zealous henchman.\n\nMortified at this rebuff, Boniface lay in wait to find another\nexcuse for ruining Virgilius. He ascertained presently that the\nIrishman taught that the earth was round, and that there was an\nantipodes to those living in Germany. Now the Irish schools were\nthe most learned in Europe, and Irish saints had sailed far into\nthe west over the Atlantic: they had formed their own opinions\nconcerning the shape of the world. Boniface wrote to the Pope to\ndenounce the doctrine of Virgilius as \"perverse and unjust, uttered\nagainst God and his own soul.\"\n\nThis doctrine Pope Zacharias hastened to condemn as heretical.[9]\nVirgilius had to go to Rome to justify his opinion before ignorant\nLatin ecclesiastics--with what results we do not know.\n\n  [9] In my _Lives of the Saints_, written in 1874, I accepted M.\n  Barth\u00e9lemy's view, that Virgilius held that there were underground\n  folk, gnomes; but I do not hold this now, knowing more than I then\n  did of the learning of the great Irish scholars, and of the voyages\n  made by the Irish. The earliest gloss on the _Senchus Mor_ says,\n  \"God formed the firmament around the earth; and the earth, in the\n  form of a perfectly round ball, was fixed in the midst of the\n  firmament.\"--I. p. 27.\n\nAthelstan came to Exeter in 926, and drove out the British\ninhabitants. He built towers and repaired the old Roman walls; he\nit was who founded the monastery of SS. Mary and Peter, afterwards\nto become the Cathedral; and, we are told, he gave to it relics of\nS. Sidwell. This was a local saint, of whom very little is known,\nsave that she was the sister of Paul, who became abbot and bishop\nof L\u00e9on, in Brittany. She had two sisters, Wulvella and Jutwara,\ncalled also Jutwell and Eadware. Though the names seem Saxon, they\nare corruptions of Celtic originals. Wulvella became an abbess at\nGulval, near Penzance, where she entertained her brother as he was\non his way to Armorica. Sidwell is supposed to have been a martyr,\npossibly to Saxon brutality, but this is very uncertain, as her\nstory has not been preserved. She has as her symbols a scythe and\na well--\"canting\" symbols framed from her name. Her brother Paul\nfounded a church that still retains his name, in the British portion\nof Exeter.\n\nThe bishop's seat had been at Crediton: the Saxon bishops did not\nlike it. There were no walls there, and the Danes made piratical\nexcursions. So Bishop Leofric induced Edward the Confessor to move\nthe seat to Exeter, and this was done by Edward in person, in 1050.\n\nIn Fore Street is an odd misshapen little church, S. Olave's. This\nwas endowed by Gytha, sister of Sweyn, the Danish king, and wife\nof Earl Godwin. She was the mother of Harold. She is said to have\nendowed it (1053) that prayer might be offered for the soul of her\nhusband, and in honour of Olaf, King of Norway, who had fallen in\nbattle in 1030. As S. Olaf fought against the Danes, and it was\nthrough the machinations of Canute that he came to his end, it\nis hard to see how a Danish lady should have felt any enthusiasm\nabout Olaf, who was regarded as a saint and martyr by the national\nNorwegian party, which was bitterly opposed to the Danish. I suspect\nthat the church already existed, and was dedicated to S. Gwynllyw\nof Gwent, who at Newport was also converted into Olave, by the\nEnglish-speaking colonists. Both Gwynllyw and Olaf were kings, and\nit is noticeable that S. Olave's Church is in the British portion of\nExeter. When William the Conqueror arrived before the city, Gytha,\nwho was within the walls, escaped and took refuge in Flanders.\nWilliam gave the church, with her endowments, to Battle Abbey. But\nI am not writing a history of Exeter. For those who desire to learn\nits story in full, I must refer them to the work of Mr. Freeman.\n\nThe Cathedral is disappointing, and that because it is built, not of\nthe warm, red sandstone that abounds in the neighbourhood, and is\nvery good building material, but of Beer stone, which is cold and\ngrey. It has another defect: it is too low; but this was determined\nby the towers. When it was resolved to rebuild the Cathedral, it was\ndecided to preserve the Norman towers, employing them as transepts.\nThis settled the business. The church could not be made lofty; and\non entering the western doors the visitor is at once disappointed.\nHe feels a lack of breathing-space; the vaulting depresses him.\nThe architectural details are not to be surpassed, but the whole\neffect is marred by the one mistake made at the outstart. One cannot\nwish that the towers had been removed, but one does regret that\nthey were allowed to determine the height of nave and choir. The\nchoir was begun by Bishop Quivil, in 1284, when also the great and\nincomparably beautiful windows were inserted in the towers. The nave\nwas finished by Bishop Grandisson, in 1369, the year of his death.\n\nGrandisson was a friend of the detestable John XXII., one of the\nAvignon Popes; and John appointed his intimate to Exeter in total\ndisregard to the rights of the chapter to elect. He was consecrated\nat Avignon. Hitherto almost all the bishops had been local men.\n\nGrandisson was a man very Romanly inclined, and appointed to a see\nthat was redolent with Celtic reminiscences. He did not relish\nthese. Whenever he had the chance of rededicating a church he\nendeavoured to substitute a patron from the Roman calendar in place\nof the British founder. He drew up a Legendarium, a book of Lessons\non Saints' Feasts to be used in the Cathedral Church, and ignored\nnearly every saint whose name was not approved by admission into the\nLatin martyrology.\n\n     \"The Church of Exeter is a remarkable case of one general\n     design being carried out through more than a hundred years.\n     It was fixed once for all what the new Saint Peter's should\n     be like, and it grew up after one general pattern, but with a\n     certain advance in detail as the work went westward. Bishop\n     Grandison, when the church was about half built, said that when\n     it was finished it would surpass in beauty all churches of its\n     own kind in England and France. Whatever he meant by '_genus\n     suum_,' the prediction was safely risked. As far as outline\n     and general effect goes, the Church of Exeter forms a class by\n     itself.\"--FREEMAN.\n\nA more remarkable church than the Cathedral of Exeter is that of\nOttery S. Mary, also built by Grandisson. It is, of course, not by\nany means so large. It gave, perhaps, the original type to Exeter,\nfor there also the towers have been employed as transepts, and was\nbegun in the Early English style. But there a stateliness and an\noriginality of effect are reached that Exeter cannot approach.\n\nThere the side aisles have but lancet windows, and a flood of light\npours down through the very original clerestory lights. There is\nno east window. What the general effect must have been before the\nlevels were wantonly altered at the \"restoration\" one can now hardly\nsurmise. But the church, in spite of this and some odiously vulgar\nwoodwork, is one of the most striking in England, and perhaps the\nboldest in originality of conception.\n\nThe Guildhall, in High Street, is a good example of Elizabethan\narchitecture, in bad stone.\n\nA beautiful excursion may be made from Exeter to Fingle Bridge,[10]\non the Teign, where the river winds between the hills densely\nwooded with coppice, that close in on each other like the fangs of\na rat-trap. With this may be combined Shilstone cromlech, the sole\nperfect specimen of the kind remaining in the county, and once but a\nsingle member in a series of very remarkable monuments.\n\n  [10] _Ffin_--limit, _gal_--the level land, _i.e._ in comparison with\n  the Dartmoor highlands.\n\nThe Teign is frowned down on by several strongly fortified camps.\nFingle should be seen when the hills are clothed in flowering\nheather, as though raspberry cream had been spilt over them. White\nheather may be picked there.\n\nFulford House is a quadrangle in a sad state of dilapidation;\noriginally of Tudor architecture, but disfigured by bad alterations\nin the Prince Regent's days, when cockney Gothic was in vogue. In\nthe house is a bad portrait of the \"Royal Martyr,\" presented by\nCharles II., and one of \"Red Ruin,\" a spendthrift Fulford. In the\nhall is some superb carved panelling, early Tudor.\n\nExeter may be made a centre for ecclesiological excursions of no\nordinary interest. Dunchideock Church has a well-restored screen;\nbut by far the richest carved oak rood-screen in the county is\nthat of Kenton, where also the pulpit is of incomparable beauty.\nThe carver employed thereon was a man of no common talent, and the\nwork is one of brilliant execution. There is much difference in\nthe carving in the county--some is common, mechanical; that in the\nKenton screen and pulpit is of the very finest quality.\n\nIn the little church of S. Mary Steps, in Exeter, may be seen\na portion of the screen removed from S. Mary Major when that\nmonstrosity was erected. At Plymtree the screen bears on it\ncontemporary portraits of Prince Arthur (son of Henry VII.) and\nCardinal Morton. That of Bradninch has on it paintings of the\nSibyls, the Doctors of the Church, and the Legend of S. Francis.\n\nPinhoe was the scene of a great battle with the Danes in 1001. They\nhad come up the Exe, and burned Pinhoe, Broadclyst, and some of\nthe neighbouring villages. Levies in Devon and Somerset met them,\nbut were defeated with great slaughter. The church contains a fine\ncoloured screen with the vaulting-ribs and gallery. The alms-box is\ncurious: it represents a serving-man supporting himself with a stick\nin one hand, the other extended soliciting alms.\n\nEast Budleigh should be visited for its fine bench-ends, some very\ncurious; one represents a cook roasting a goose; another a ship in\nfull sail. Their date is 1534. There is a screen, but not of first\nquality.\n\nLittleham, near Exmouth, has a good screen. Screens are the features\nof Devonshire churches: a church was built to contain one. Without\nit the proportions are faulty.\n\n     Books on Exeter:--\n\n     FREEMAN (E. A.), _Historic Towns: Exeter_. 1895.\n\n     NORTHY (T. J.), _Popular History of Exeter_. 1886.\n\n     JENKINS (A.), _History of Exeter_. 1841.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nCREDITON\n\n     Red stone and red cob--Cob walls--The river Creedy--Birthplace\n     of S. Boniface--See of Crediton--The Church--Kirton\n     serge--Apple orchards and cider-making--Franc\u00e9mass--Apple\n     the basis of many jams--Song of the apple trees--The\n     picking of apples--\"Griggles\"--Saluting the apple\n     trees--The apple-crusher--Pomage--The cider-press--Apple\n     cheese--Cider-matching--Racking--Cider for rheumatism--A\n     Cornish cider song--John Davy--Seats near Crediton--Elizabeth\n     Buller and Frances Tuckfield--The Coplestone--The North Devon\n     savages--Lapford--Churches round Crediton--Rev. S. Rowe.\n\n\nA curious, sleepy place, the houses like the great church built of\nred sandstone, where not of the red clay or cob. But in the latter\ncase the cob is whitewashed. No house can be conceived more warm and\ncosy than that built of cob, especially when thatched. It is warm\nin winter and cool in summer, and I have known labourers bitterly\nbewail their fate in being transferred from an old fifteenth or\nsixteenth century cob cottage into a newly-built stone edifice of\nthe most approved style. As they said, it was like going out of warm\nlife into a cold grave.\n\nThe art of building with cob is nearly extinct. Clay is kneaded up\nwith straw by the feet, and then put on the rising walls that are\nenclosed in a framework of boards, but this latter is not always\nnecessary as the clay is consistent enough to hold together, and\nall that is required is to shave it down as the wall rises in\nheight. Such cob walls for garden fruit are incomparable. They\nretain the warmth of the sun and give it out through the night, and\nwhen protected on top by slates or thatch will last for centuries.\nBut let their top be exposed, and they dissolve in the rain and\nflake away with the frost. They have, however, their compensating\ndisadvantage--they harbour vermin.\n\nCrediton takes its name from the Creedy river that flows near\nthe town. The river is designated (_Crwydr_) from its straggling\ncharacter, crumbling its banks away at every flood and changing\nits course. At a very early period the Saxons had succeeded in\nestablishing a settlement here, a _tun_, and here Wynfrith, better\nknown as S. Boniface, was born in 680. Willibald, a priest of\nMainz who wrote his life, tells us that his father was a great\nhouseholder, and of \"eorl-kind,\" or noble birth. He loved his son\nWynfrith above all his other children, and for a long time withheld\nhis consent to his embracing the monastic life. During a serious\nillness, however, when death seemed near at hand, he relented,\nand Wynfrith was sent to school at Exeter. Thence he moved to\nNutschelle, where he assumed the name of Boniface. At the age of\nthirty he was ordained. King Ina, of the West Saxons, honoured him\nwith his confidence, and he might have risen to a high office in\nhis native land, but other aspirations had taken possession of his\nsoul. No stories were listened to at his time in the Anglo-Saxon\nmonasteries with greater avidity than those connected with the\nadventurous mission of Archbishop Willibrord among the heathen\nFrisians, and Boniface longed to join the noble band beyond the sea.\nThe abbot opposed his design, but Boniface was obstinate, and with\nthree brethren left Nutschelle for London; there they took ship and\nlanded in Frisia in 716. But the time was unpropitious, and he was\nforced to return to Nutschelle.\n\n[Illustration: A COBB COTTAGE, SHEEPWASH]\n\nNext year he went to Rome, and then the Pope urged him to establish\npapal authority in Germany, which had been converted by Celtic\nmissionaries, who had their own independent ways, that were not at\nall relished at Rome. Boniface, who hated the Celts and all their\nusages, eagerly undertook the task, and he went into Thuringia.\nHe did a double work. He converted, or attempted to convert, the\nheathen, and he ripped up and undid what had been done independently\nby the Irish missionaries. In his old age he resumed his attempt to\ncarry the Gospel into Frisia, and was there killed, A.D. 755.\n\nA Saxon see was established at Crediton about 909, and was given\nthree estates in Cornwall--Poulton, Lawhitton, and Callington. The\nBishop was charged to visit the Cornish people year by year \"to\ndrive away their errors,\" for up to that time \"they had resisted\nthe truth with all their might, and had disobeyed the Apostolic\ndecrees,\" that is to say, they clung to their ecclesiastical\nindependence and some of their peculiar customs.\n\nCrediton remained the seat of the Romano-Saxon bishops till 1046,\nwhen Leofric got the see moved to Exeter, where his skin would be\nsafer behind walls than in exposed Crediton.\n\nThe church, dedicated to the Holy Cross, is a very stately\nbuilding; the tower is transition Norman at the base. The rest is\nPerpendicular, and a fine effect is produced by the belt of shadow\nunder the tower, with the illumined choir behind, which has large\nwindows. The east window was mutilated at the \"restoration.\" It\nwas very original and delightful; it has been reduced to the same\ncommonplace pattern as the west window.\n\nCrediton was a great seat of the cloth trade, and many of those\nwhose sumptuous monuments decorate the church owed their wealth\nto \"Kirton serge.\" Westcote says that the \"aptness and diligent\nindustry of the inhabitants\" (in this branch of manufacture) \"did\npurchase it a pre-eminent name above all other towns, whereby grew\nthis common proverb, 'as fine as Kirton spinning' (for we call it\nbriefly Kirton), which spinning was very fine indeed, which to\nexpress the better to gain your belief, it is very true that 140\nthreads for woollen yarn spun in that town were drawn together\nthrough the eye of a taylor's needle, which needle and threads were\nfor many years together to be seen in Watling Street, in London, in\nthe shop of one Mr. Dunscombe, at 'The Sign of the Golden Bottle.'\"\n\nCrediton is now a great centre of apple culture and cider-making.\nThe rich red soil lends itself admirably to the production of\ndelicious apples.\n\n[Illustration: East Window of Crediton Ch:\nbefore \"restoration\"   FBB 1869\nCREDITON CHURCH]\n\nIt is quite a mistake to suppose that any fruit serves for cider.\nThere are certain kinds that are vastly superior to others for this\npurpose, as the Bitter-sweet, the Fox-whelp, the Kingston Black and\nCherry Pearmain; but the best all round is the Kingston Black.\n\nWhen there is going up a general cry for legislation to ameliorate\nin some way the condition of agriculture, it is a satisfaction to\nthink that one act of Government has had a beneficial effect on the\nEnglish farmer, if not throughout the land, at all events in the\nWest of England and in other cider-making counties, and that act was\nthe laying of heavy duty on foreign sparkling wines. Quite as much\nchampagne is drunk now as was before the duty was increased, but\nunless we are very much mistaken some of that champagne comes from\nthe apple and not from the grape.\n\nA story is told that a gentleman the other day applied to a large\napple-orchard farmer in the West of England for a hogshead or two of\nhis sparkling cider. The farmer replied that he was very sorry not\nto be able to accommodate him as in previous years, but a certain\nLondon firm had taken his whole year's \"pounding.\" He gave the name\nof the firm and assured his customer that he could get the cider\nfrom that house. The gentleman applied, and received the answer:--\n\n     \"SIR,--We are not cider merchants. You have made some mistake.\n     We are a firm of champagne-importing merchants from the\n     celebrated vineyards of MM. So-and-so, at So-and-so.\"\n\nWell, the money goes into English pockets, into those of the\nhardly-pressed and pinched English farmers. And cider is the most\nwholesome and sound of beverages. So all is well.\n\nThere are, as may have been noticed, three cold nights in May--not\nalways, but often. At Crediton, and throughout the apple-growing\ndistricts in North Devon, these are called \"Franc\u00e9mass\" or \"S.\nFrankin's days;\" they are the 19th, 20th, and 21st May. When a frost\ncomes then it injures the apple blossom. The story relative to this\nfrost varies slightly. According to one version there was an Exeter\nbrewer, of the name of Frankin, who found that cider ran his ale\nso hard that he vowed his soul to the devil on the condition that\nhe would send three frosty nights in May to annually cut off the\napple blossom. The other version of the story is that the brewers in\nNorth Devon entered into a compact with the Evil One, and promised\nto put deleterious matter into their ale on condition that the\ndevil should help them by killing the blossom of the apple trees.\nAccordingly, whenever these May frosts come we know that his majesty\nis fulfilling _his_ part of the contract, because the brewers have\nfulfilled _theirs_ by adulterating their beer. S. Frankin, according\nto this version, is an euphemism for Satan.\n\nOur dear old friend, the apple, not only serves as a kindly\nassistant to help out the supply of wine, but also forms the basis\nof a good many jams. With some assistance it is converted into\nraspberry and plum, but no inducement will persuade it to become\nstrawberry. It is certainly instructive to pass a jam factory in\nOctober and thence inhale the fragrance of raspberries.\n\nFor some twenty or thirty years the orchards were sadly neglected.\nThe old trees were not replaced, there was no pruning, no cleaning\nof the trunks, the cattle were turned into the orchard to gnaw and\ninjure the bark and break down the branches, no dressing was given\nto the roots, and the pounding of apples was generally abandoned.\nBut thanks to the increased demand for cider--largely, no doubt,\nto be drunk as cider, also, it is more than suspected, to be drunk\nunder another name--the farmers in Somersetshire, Devonshire,\nHereford, and Worcestershire have begun to cultivate apple trees,\nand care for them, as a means of revenue.\n\nIn former days there were many more orchards than at present; every\ngentleman's house, every farmhouse had its well-stocked, carefully\npruned orchard. Beer ran cider hard, and nearly beat it out of the\nfield, and overthrew the apple trees, but the trees are having their\ngood times again.\n\nThere is a curious song of \"The Apple Trees\" that was formerly sung\nin every West of England farmhouse. It was a sort of Georgic, giving\ncomplete instructions how apples are to be grown and cider to be\nmade. It is now remembered only by very old men, and as it has, to\nthe best of my knowledge, never appeared in print, I will quote it\nin full:--\n\n    \"An orchard fair, to please,\n      And pleasure for your mind, sir,\n    You'd have--then plant of trees\n      The goodliest you can find, sir;\n\n          In bark they must be clean,\n            And finely grown in root, sir,\n          Well trimmed in head, I ween,\n            And sturdy in the shoot, sir.\n\n    O the jovial days when the apple trees do bear,\n    We'll drink and be merry all the gladsome year.\n\n          \"The pretty trees you plant,\n            Attention now will need, sir,\n          That nothing they may want,\n            Which to mention I proceed, sir.\n          You must not grudge a fence\n            'Gainst cattle, tho't be trouble;\n          They will repay the expense\n            In measure over double.\n\n                  O the jovial days, &c.\n\n          \"To give a man great joy,\n            And see his orchard thrive, sir,\n          A skilful hand employ\n            To use the pruning knife, sir.\n          To lop each wayward limb,\n            That seemeth to offend, sir;\n          Nor fail at Fall, to trim\n            Until the tree's life end, sir.\n\n                  O the jovial days, &c.\n\n          \"All in the month of May,\n            The trees are clothed in bloom, sir,\n          As posies bright and gay,\n            Both morning, night and noon, sir.\n          'Tis pleasant to the sight,\n            'Tis sweet unto the smell, sir,\n          And if there be no blight,\n            The fruit will set and swell, sir.\n\n                  O the jovial days, &c.\n\n          \"The summer oversped,\n            October drawing on, sir;\n          The apples gold and red\n            Are glowing in the sun, sir.\n\n    As the season doth advance,\n      Your apples for to gather,\n    I bid you catch the chance\n      To pick them in fine weather.\n\n              O the jovial days, &c.\n\n    \"When to a pummy ground,\n      You squeeze out all the juice, sir,\n    Then fill a cask well bound,\n      And set it by for use, sir.\n    O bid the cider flow\n      In ploughing and in sowing,\n    The healthiest drink I know\n      In reaping and in mowing.\n\n              O the jovial days, &c.\"\n\nThis fresh and quaint old song was taken down from an ancient sexton\nof over eighty near Tiverton.\n\nThe young apple trees have a deadly enemy in the rabbit, which loves\ntheir sweet bark, and in a night will ruin half a nursery, peeling\nit off and devouring it all round. Young cattle will break over a\nhedge and do terrible mischief to an orchard of hopeful trees that\npromise to bear in another year or two. The bark cannot endure\nbruising and breaking--injury to it produces that terrible scourge\nthe canker. Canker is also caused by the tap-root running down\ninto cold and sour soil; and it is very customary, where this is\nlikely, to place a slate or a tile immediately under the tree, so as\nto force the roots to spread laterally. Apple trees hate standing\nwater, and like to be on a slope, whence the moisture rapidly drains\naway. As the song says, the orchard apples when ripe glow \"gold and\nred,\" and the yellow and red apples make the best cider. The green\napple is not approved by the old-fashioned cider-apple growers.\nThe maxim laid down in the song, that the apples should be \"the\ngoodliest you can find,\" was not much attended to some thirty years\nago when orchards were let down; farmers thought that any trees were\ngood enough, and that there was a positive advantage in selecting\nsour apples, for that then the boys would not steal them. It is now\notherwise; they are well aware that the quality of the cider depends\nlargely on the goodness of the sort of apple grown. The picking of\napples takes place on a fine windy or sunny day. The apples to be\npounded are knocked down with a pole, but those for \"hoarding\" are\ncarefully picked, as a bruise is fatal. After that the fallen apples\nhave been gathered by women and children they are heaped up under\nthe trees and left to completely ripen and be touched with frost. It\nis thought that they make better cider when they have begun to turn\nbrown. Whether this be actually the case, or the relic of a mistaken\ncustom of the past, the writer cannot say.\n\nAll apples are not usually struck down--the small ones, \"griggles,\"\nare left for schoolboys. It is their privilege to glean in the\norchard, and such gleaning is termed \"griggling.\"\n\nWhat the vintage is in France, and the hop-picking is in Kent and\nBavaria, that the apple-picking and collecting is in the cider\ncounties of England. The autumn sun is shining, there is a crispness\nin the air, the leaves are turned crimson and yellow, of the same\nhues as the fruit. The grass of the orchard is bright with crimson\nand gold as though it were studded with jewels, but the jewels\nare the windfalls from the apple trees. Men, women, and children\nare happy talking, laughing, singing snatches of songs--except\nwhen eating. Eat they must--eat they will--and the farmer does not\nobject, for there is a limit to apple-eating. The apple is the most\nfilling of all fruit. And yet how unlimited seems the appetite of\nthe boy, especially when he gets into an orchard! The grandfather of\nthe writer of this book planted an orchard specially for the boys of\nthe parish, in the hope that they would glut themselves therein and\nleave his cider orchard alone. It did not answer; they devoured all\nthe apples in their special orchard and carried their ravages into\nhis also.\n\nThe farmer knows that the apple is tempting, and the apple-pickers\nand collectors are allowed to eat--within limits. But he can afford\nto be generous. In a good year how abundant is the supply on every\ntree! How every tree resembles those that Aladdin saw in the\nenchanted world underground laden with topaz and ruby!\n\nThere was a curious custom in Devon, now completely gone out, which\nconsisted, on Old Christmas Day, in going at night into an orchard\nand firing blank charges from fowling-pieces at the apple trees.\nIt was supposed that this ensured there being a good harvest of\napples the ensuing year. In Somersetshire the wassailing of the\ntrees continued till within the memory of old folk. Sir Thomas\nAcland related to Mr. Brand, in 1790, that in his neighbourhood on\nChristmas Eve it was customary for the country people to sing a\nwassail or drinking song, and drink the toast from the wassail-bowl\nto the apple trees in order to have a fruitful year. And Herrick\nalludes to this when he enjoins:--\n\n    \"Wassaile the trees, that they may bear\n    You many a plum, and many a peare;\n    For more or lesse fruits they will bring,\n    As you do give them wassailing.\"\n\nThe wassail song was as follows:--\n\n    \"Old Apple tree, we are come to wassail thee,\n    All for to bloom, and to bear thy flowers and fruit so free.\n    Wassail! wassail! all round our town;\n    Our cups are white and our ale is brown.\n    Our bowl is made of a good ashen tree,\n    And here's kind fellows as will drink to thee.\n\n        Hats full, caps full, five-bushel bags full,\n        Barns full, floors full, stables full, tallats full,\n        And the little hole under the stairs, three times three!\n        Hip, hip, hurrah! shout we.\"\n\nWhen the apples are considered fit to pound, which is usually in\nNovember, they are taken to the crusher. This consists of a large\ncircular stone trough with a rim about it, and in this rolls a\ngreat stone wheel, set in motion formerly by a horse attached to\na \"roundabout.\" The great wheel revolved and crushed the apples\nto a pulp. The crushing was, however, also done by the hand, in\nsmall quantities. There is, however, a method of cutting them small\nbetween rollers. The machine is now commonly set in motion by water.\n\nThe pounded apple pulp is called pomage, or apple-mock (mash). The\napples are ground to one consistence, with kernels and skins. The\nkernels give flavour, and the skins colour; or are supposed so to do.\n\nThe pulp is next conveyed to the cider-press, where it is placed in\nlayers, with clean straw or haircloths between the layers. Below\nis the vat; in Devonshire and Cornwall commonly called the \"vate.\"\nAbove are planks with a lever beam weighted, so as to produce\ngreat pressure, or else they are pressed by means of a screw. The\npressing-planks are locally termed the \"sow.\" The cider now begins\nto flow. The first flow is by no means the best.\n\nThe pulp thus squeezed is termed the \"cheese.\" This is pared down,\nand the parings added to the block and again subjected to pressure.\n\nThe cider as it flows away is received in \"kieves.\" No water\nwhatever is added to the apples. What comes away is the pure\nunadulterated juice. When, however, the cider has been wholly\npressed out, then it is customary to make a hole in the \"cheese\"\nand pour in some water, which is left to be absorbed by the spongy\nmatter. This is afterwards pressed out, and goes by the name of\n\"beverage.\" It is not regarded as cider. It is sharper in taste, and\nis appreciated by workmen.\n\nOutside old farms is often to be seen a huge block of stone, with a\nring at the top. This was the weight formerly attached to the beam.\nThe pressing of the \"cheese\" was anciently performed by men pulling\nthe wooden beam, weighted with the great mass of granite or other\nheavy substance that pressed down the \"sow.\" A later contrivance\nwas a wheel with a screw, by means of which far more pressure could\nbe brought on the \"cheese.\" The cider that oozed out under pressure\nran out of the trough by a lip into a flat tub called a \"trin;\" or\ninto the \"kieve.\" The great scooped-out stones in which the apples\nwere crushed were often of great size, as much as ten or even\ntwelve feet in diameter. The stone that rolled in them was termed\nthe \"runner.\" Where much pains was taken with the cider, there the\nseveral kinds of apples were crushed separately, and also pressed\nseparately. But the usual custom was to throw in all together\ninto the \"chase\" or crushing basin. In a good many places small\ndiscarded \"chases\" may be seen. These were employed not for making\ncider, but cider spirit, which was distilled. This is indeed still\nmanufactured in some places on the sly. In Germany it is largely\ndistilled and sold as \"schnaps,\" and very fiery, nasty stuff it is.\nThe manufacturers of British spirits know the use of cider spirit as\na base for some of their concoctions.\n\nFormerly a duty of ten shillings a barrel was imposed on the making\nof cider, but this was repealed in 1830.\n\nThe \"cheese\" of the apples is of little value. It is given to pigs.\nKeepers are glad of it for the pheasants they rear; and made into\ncakes it serves as fuel, smouldering and giving forth a not very\naromatic smoke.\n\nThe juice of the apples is left in the \"kieves\" for a period that\nvaries according to the weather and the temperature, but generally\nis from three to four days.\n\nDuring this period fermentation commences, and all the dirt and\nimpure matter come as a scum to the surface. This head is skimmed\noff as it forms. If this be not done, after a time it sinks, and\nspoils the quality of the cider. The liquid, by fermentation, not\nonly develops alcohol, but also cleanses itself. The fresh, sweet\ncider is of a thick and muddy consistency. By fermentation it\npurifies itself, and becomes perfectly clear.\n\nThe cider is now put into casks. In order to make _sweet_ cider the\ncask is \"matched.\" A bucketful of the new cider is put in, then\nbrimstone is lighted in an old iron pot, and a match of paper or\ncanvas is dipped in the melted brimstone and thrust into the cask\nthrough the bung-hole, which is closed. The fumes of sulphur fill\nthe vessel, and when the barrel is afterwards filled with cider\nall fermentation is arrested. Sweet cider, if new, is often rather\nunpleasant from the taste of the sulphurous acid.\n\nThis may be avoided by \"racking,\" that is to say, the cider when\nmade may be turned from one hogshead to another at intervals,\nwhenever it shows signs of fermenting. This continuous \"racking\"\nwill arrest the progress of fermentation as effectually as\n\"matching.\"\n\nThe sweet cider is in far greater demand by the general public than\nthat which is \"rough,\" but a West Country labourer will hardly thank\nyou for the cider that will be drunk with delight by the cockney. He\nprefers it \"rough,\" that is to say acid, the rougher the better,\ntill it almost cuts the throat as it passes down.\n\nUnless bottled, cider is difficult to preserve owing to the\ndevelopment of lactic acid. Moreover, in wood it turns dark in\ncolour, and if allowed to stand becomes of an inky black, which is\nnot inviting. This is due to having been in contact with iron.\n\nIt is bottled from Christmas on till Easter, and so is sold as\nchampagne cider; sometimes as champagne without the addition, we\nstrongly suspect.\n\nThe amount of alcohol produced by fermentation varies from five and\na half to nine per cent. In the sweet sparkling cider the amount\nis very small, and it would take a great deal of it to make a man\ninebriate.\n\nMuch difference of opinion exists as to the good of cider for\nrheumatic subjects. The sweet cider is of course bad, but it is\ncertain that in the West of England a good many persons are able to\ndrink cider who dare not touch beer--not only so, but believe that\nit is beneficial. Others, however, protest that they feel rheumatic\npains if they touch it.\n\nThe manufacturers of champagne cider very commonly add mustard to\nthe liquid for the purpose of stinging the tongue; but apart from\nthat, cider is the purest and least adulterated of all drinks.\n\nIn conclusion I will venture to quote another West of England song\nconcerning cider, only premising that by \"sparkling\" cider is not\nmeant that which goes by the name in commerce, but the homely\ncask cider; and next, that the old man who sang it to the writer\nof this article--a Cornish tanner--claimed (but the claim may be\nquestioned) to have composed both words and melody, so that the\nsong, though of country origin, is not very ancient:--\n\n    \"In a nice little village not far from the sea,\n    Still lives my old uncle aged eighty and three,\n    Of orchards and meadows he owns a good lot,\n    Such cider as his--not another has got.\n\n        Then fill up the jug, boys, and let it go round,\n        Of drinks not the equal in England is found.\n        So pass round the jug, boys, and pull at it free,\n        There's nothing like cider, sparkling cider, for me.\n\n    \"My uncle is lusty, is nimble and spry (lively),\n    As ribstons his cheeks, clear as crystal his eye,\n    His head snowy white, as the flowering may,\n    And he drinks only cider by night and by day.\n\n        Then fill up the jug, &c.\n\n    \"O'er the wall of the churchyard the apple trees lean\n    And ripen their burdens, red, golden, and green.\n    In autumn the apples among the graves lie;\n    'There I'll sleep well,' says uncle, 'when fated to die.'\n\n        Then fill up the jug, &c.\n\n    \"'My heart as an apple, sound, juicy, has been,\n    My limbs and my trunk have been sturdy and clean;\n    Uncankered I've thriven, in heart and in head,\n    So under the apple trees lay me when dead.'\n\n        Then fill up the jug, &c.\"\n\nNear Crediton, at Creedy Bridge, was born John Davy, the composer of\nthe popular song \"The Bay of Biscay.\" He was baptised on Christmas\nDay, 1763, at Upton Hellions, and was an illegitimate child; but\nhe was tenderly brought up by his uncle, a village blacksmith, who\nplayed the violoncello in Upton Hellions Church choir.\n\nWhen in Crediton one day as a child with his uncle, he saw some\nsoldiers at the roll-call, and was vastly delighted at the music of\nthe fifes; so much so that he borrowed one and very soon learned\nto play it. After that he made fifes with his penknife of the\nhollow-stalked weeds growing on the banks of the Creedy, locally\ncalled \"bitters,\" and sold them to his playfellows.\n\nA year later the chimes of Crediton made such an impression on this\nprecocious child, that he purloined twenty or thirty horseshoes from\nhis uncle's smithy, and the old fellow was sadly perplexed as to\nwhat had become of them, till he heard a mysterious chiming from the\ngarret, and on ascending to it, found that John had suspended eight\nof the horseshoes from the rafters so as to form an octave, and with\na rod was striking them in imitation of the Crediton chimes.\n\nThis story getting to the ears of the rector of the parish,\nChancellor Carrington, he felt interested in the child and showed\nhim a harpsichord, on which he soon learned to play. Davy also at\nthis time applied himself to learn the violin.\n\nWhen Davy was eleven years old the rector introduced him to another\nparson, named Eastcott, who possessed a pianoforte, an instrument\nof recent introduction. With this the boy soon became familiar. An\neffort was now made by these two kindly clergymen, and they placed\nhim with Jackson, the organist of Exeter Cathedral, with whom he\nremained some years and completed his musical education.\n\nHe then went to London, where he was employed to supply music for\nthe songs of the operas of that day, and was retained as a composer\nby the managers of the Theatre Royal until infirmities, rather\nthan age, rendered him incapable of exertion, and he died, before\nhe was sixty-two, in penury. It was due only to a couple of London\ntradesmen, one of whom was a native of Crediton, that he was not\nconsigned to a pauper's grave. He wrote some dramatic pieces for\nthe theatre at Sadler's Wells, and composed the music for Holman's\nopera of _What a Blunder_, which was performed at the little theatre\nin the Haymarket in 1800. In the following year he was engaged with\nMoorhead in the music of _Perouse_, and with Mountain in that of\n_The Brazen Mask_. His last opera was _Woman's Will_. Some of his\nsongs have obtained a firm hold, as \"Just Like Love,\" \"May we ne'er\nwant a Friend,\" \"The Death of Will Watch the Smuggler,\" which I have\nheard a village blacksmith sing, and \"The Bay of Biscay.\"\n\nHe was buried in St. Martin's churchyard, February 28th, 1824.\n\nThere are some fine seats and parks near Crediton: Creedy Park,\nthat of Sir H. Fergusson Davie, Bart.; that of Shobrooke, the seat\nof Sir I. Shelly, Bart.; and Downes, the property of Sir Redvers\nBuller. This latter place takes its name from the _dun_ which\noccupied the hill-top between the Yeo and Creedy, which unite below\nit. All traces of the old ramparts have, however, disappeared\nunder cultivation. There is a somewhat pathetic story connected\nwith Shobrooke and Downes. The latter belonged to William Gould,\nand James Buller, of Morval, obtained it by marrying his eldest\ndaughter and heiress Elizabeth, born in 1718. The younger and\nonly other sister, Frances, married John Tuckfield, of Shobrooke\nPark, then known as Little Fulford. This was in 1740, when she was\nonly eighteen. The respective husbands quarrelled about money and\npolitics, and forbade their wives to meet and speak to each other.\nJohn Tuckfield was member for Exeter 1747, 1754, 1760, when he died.\nThe sisters were wont to walk every day to a certain point in the\nrespective grounds and wave their handkerchiefs to each other, and\nthey never met in this world again, for Elizabeth died in 1742.\n\nThere is not much of great interest in the neighbourhood of\nCrediton. Perhaps the church that most deserves a visit is\nColebrook, with its curious wood carving and a fine original and\nlate piece of screen-work. There is also Coplestone Cross, a very\nremarkable piece of early Celtic interlaced work, such as is not to\nbe found elsewhere in England except in Northumbria. It is mentioned\nin a charter in 974, but it is far older than that. It stands at the\njunction of three parishes, and has given a name to a once noted\nfamily in the county, that comes into an old local rhyme, which\nruns:--\n\n    \"Crocker, Cruwys, and Coplestone,\n    When the Conqueror came were found at home.\"\n\nBut who the ancestors of these families were at the time of the\nConquest we have no means of knowing. Of the few English thegns who\nretained their lands in Devonshire after the Conquest, not one is\nrecorded as holding any of the estates that later belonged to these\nfamilies. The cross is of granite, and stands 10 feet 6 inches high.\nIt is, unhappily, mutilated at the top.\n\nAt Nymet Rowland, near Crediton, the savages lived, to whom Mr.\nGreenwood drew attention. They were dispersed by becoming a prey to\ntyphoid, when their hovel was torn down. The last of them, an old\nman, lived the rest of his life and died in the parish of Whitstone\nin a cask littered with straw, the cask chained to a post in an\nouthouse. I have given an account of them in my _Old English Home_.\n\nAt Lapford is a fine screen, and the carved benches are deserving\nof attention. Lapford was for long, too long, the place over\nwhich \"Pass'n Radford\" brooded as an evil genius. I have told\nseveral stories of him in my _Old Country Life_, under the name of\nHannaford. He has been sketched in Mr. Blackmore's _Maid of Sker_\nbeside Parson Froude, of Knowstone. The latter has been drawn\nwithout excessive exaggeration.\n\nAt Down S. Mary the screen has been admirably completed from a\nfragment by the village carpenter. There is a good screen at Bow.\n\nA good walk through pretty scenery to Dowrish, an ancient mansion,\nand once dating from King John's reign, but modernised in suburban\nvilla style. Though there is nothing remaining of interest in the\nhouse, the view thence, stretching across the richly wooded land of\nthe new red sandstone to the heights of Dartmoor, will repay the\nwalk. For many years Crediton was the residence of the Rev. Samuel\nRowe, the Columbus of Dartmoor. He laboriously explored that region,\ntill then almost unvisited, and chronicled its prehistoric relics.\nAlthough he was hopelessly involved in the pseudo-antiquarianism\nof his period, and put everything prehistoric down to the Druids\nand Ph\u0153nicians, yet his researches were most valuable, and he has\nrecorded the existence of many relics that have since disappeared.\nHis _Perambulation of Dartmoor_ was published in 1848. He had\nindeed been preceded in 1832 by the Rev. Edward A. Bray, vicar\nof Tavistock, but the visits of the latter to Dartmoor had been\nconfined to the immediate neighbourhood of the town of which he was\nparson.\n\n[Illustration: TIVERTON]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTIVERTON\n\n     Two-fords Town--The Seven Crosses--Numerous chapels--Tiverton\n     Church--Blundell's School--Parson Russell--Washfield--Sampford\n     Peverell Ghost--\"Old Snow\"--White Witches--Instance of\n     evil done by them--The Four Quarters--Machine lace--John\n     Heathcoat--Cullompton--Bampfylde Moore Carew--Bampton Pony\n     Fair--The Exmoor ponies.\n\n\nTiverton, or, as it was originally called, Twyford, takes its\nname from being planted between the Exe and the Loman (Gael.\n_liomh_, smooth or sluggish[11]), which are here fordable. It rises\npicturesquely above the Exe, and the height when crowned with castle\nas well as church must have presented a remarkably fine group of\ntowers. The main castle tower was, however, pulled down and left as\na stump about thirty-five years ago.\n\n  [11] The same in Loch Lomond and in Lake Leman, in the Lyme in\n  Dorsetshire, and the Leam by Leamington.\n\nThe castle was a great Courtenay stronghold, and occupied a site\nthat had doubtless been previously fortified. There is, however, a\nlarge and strong earthwork, Cranmore, that occupies the height above\nCollipriest and looks down upon the town.\n\nAt Hensleigh, a hamlet to the west of the town, is a spot called\n\"The Seven Crosses.\" The origin of this name is, according to a\ngenerally accepted tradition, as follows:--\n\nOne day the Countess of Devon was taking her walk abroad in the\ndirection of Hensleigh, when she met a tailor descending the hill,\nladen with a large covered maund, or basket. As he passed, she heard\na cry from the hamper. She stayed her steps and inquired what he was\ncarrying.\n\n\"Only seven puppies that I be going to drown in the Exe,\" was his\nreply.\n\n\"I want a dog,\" said the Countess. \"Open the hamper.\"\n\nThe tailor tried to excuse himself, but in vain. The Countess\ninsisted, and, on the lid being raised, seven little babes were\nrevealed.\n\n\"Alas, my lady!\" said the tailor. \"My wife gave birth to all seven\nat once, and I am poor, poor as a church mouse. What other could I\ndo than rid myself of them?--they are all boys.\"\n\nThe Countess saw that they were lovely and vigorous babes, and she\nmade the tailor take them back to his wife, and charged herself\nwith the cost of their bringing up and education. When they were\nsufficiently old she had them all sent to Buckfast Abbey, to be\nreared for the priesthood, and in due time they were ordained and\nbecame--that is, four of them--rectors of Tiverton (for Tiverton had\nfour together), and the three others their curates. As they were all\nof a birth, they loved each other, and never disagreed; and that\nwas--so it is averred--the only instance within a historic period\nthat the rectors of the four portions of Tiverton have agreed, and\nhave got on smoothly with each other and with their curates. As the\nseven hung together in life, in death they were not parted. All died\nin one day, and were buried on the spot where the Countess of Devon\nsaved their lives, and there above their heads seven crosses were\nreared, but not one of these remains to the present day.\n\nFormerly there were in Tiverton parish eighteen chapels, of which\nthe only remains are found in a cottage at Mere, and a restored\nchapel at Cove. Tidcombe Rectory was built by a former rector, named\nNewte, on the graveyard of one of these chapels, and it is pretended\nthat none of the eldest sons of the Newte family have ever since\ncome of age, as a punishment for this act of profanation.\n\nTiverton Church, dedicated to S. Peter, represents three periods of\narchitecture. In the north aisle is a Norman doorway, with zigzag\nmoulding. The tower, a hundred feet high, is the most beautiful\nfeature--Perpendicular. The nave, chancel, and north aisle are\nof early Perpendicular work; the south aisle, with its Greenway\nchapel, dates from early in the sixteenth century. It was built by\nJohn Greenway, a rich merchant of Tiverton, and running round it,\nrepresented in relief, are twenty scenes from the life of our Lord,\nbeginning with the Flight into Egypt, and ending with the Ascension.\nThe roof of the south porch is also Greenway's work, and is very\nfine. He and his wife Joan are represented over the door kneeling\nin adoration. He died in 1529, but the chapel was built in 1517.\nThe exterior is covered with lavish enrichments--representations\nof ships, wool-packs, men, and horses. Formerly this chapel was\nseparated from the south aisle by a richly-carved, gilt and coloured\nscreen of stone, containing paintings in panels. This was wantonly\ndestroyed in 1830, but the fragments were happily rescued by the\nEarl of Devon and removed to Powderham. At the \"restoration\" in 1854\nthe rood-screen was also removed, but was secured by the Rev. W.\nRayer, rector of Tidcombe Portion, who had just purchased the whole\nof the Holcombe estate from the Blewett family, and his son had it\nrestored and erected in Holcombe Rogus Church.\n\nThe screen was in a very worm-eaten condition, and its restoration\nwas a very expensive matter.\n\nBlundell's Grammar School was founded in 1604, and was for many\nyears the leading school of Devonshire. Under Dr. Richards it\ncontained the largest number of pupils, 200, ever within the walls,\nuntil the new buildings were erected on a suitable spot to the east\nof Tiverton, where there are now 250 boys.\n\nDr. Richards was a good teacher, but a very severe disciplinarian.\nPerhaps the most famous of his pupils, both as a clergyman and\nsportsman, was the late John Russell, \"Parson Jack\" as he was\ncalled. He was a great favourite as a schoolboy, and always showed\na considerable amount of shrewdness. With another boy, named Bovey,\nhe kept a scratch pack of hounds. Having received a hint that this\nhad reached the ears of Dr. Richards, he collected his share of the\npack, and sent them off to his father. The next day he was summoned\nto the master's desk.\n\n\"Russell,\" said the Doctor, \"I hear that you have some hounds. Is it\ntrue?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" answered Russell; \"I have not a dog in the neighbourhood.\"\n\n\"You never told me a lie, so I believe you. Bovey, come here. You\nhave some hounds, I understand?\"\n\n\"Well, sir, a few--but they are little ones.\"\n\n\"Oh! you have, have you? Then I shall expel you.\"\n\nAnd expelled he was, Russell coming off scatheless. I tell the\nfollowing tale because it was told in Blundell's School of Russell,\nduring his lifetime, as one of his pranks, but I mistrust it. I\nbelieve the story to be as old as the twelfth century; and if I\nremember aright, it occurs in one of the French Fabliaux of that\nperiod.\n\nDr. Richards had some very fine grapes growing against his garden\nwall, under the boys' bedroom windows. \"Jack was as good as\nhis master,\" and the young scamp was wont to be let down in a\nclothes-basket by night, by his mates, to the region of the grapes,\nand to return with a supply when hauled up.\n\nThe Doctor noticed how rapidly his grapes disappeared, and learning\nfrom his man John the cause, took his place under the vine along\nwith his gardener, who was ordered to lay hold of the boy in the\nbasket and muffle his mouth, lest he should cry out. This he did\nwhen Russell descended; and Dr. Richards took his place in the\nclothes-basket. The boys hauled away, wondering at the accession of\nweight, but when they saw the Doctor's head level with the window,\npanic-stricken they let go their hold of the rope, and away went\nDoctor and basket to the bottom.\n\nNo bones were broken, and nothing came of it, the Doctor being\nrather ashamed of the part he had played in the matter.\n\nIt was said of Russell, as Napoleon said of Ashton Smith, that he\nwas \"le premier chasseur d'Angleterre.\" His love for sport made\nhim always a poor man. On one occasion he invited a young curate\nto breakfast with him, and preach for him. After breakfast two\nlikely-looking hunters, perhaps a little screwy, were brought round\nand steadily mounted.\n\n\"No time for going round by the road,\" said Parson Jack; \"we will\nride to my church across country, and so save a couple of miles.\"\n\nOff they rode. The curate presently remarked, \"How bare of trees\nyour estate is,\" as they crossed lands belonging to Russell. \"Ah!\"\nresponded the sportsman \"the hounds eat 'em.\" Coming to a stiff\ngate, Russell, with his hand in his pocket, cleared it like a bird,\nbut looking round, he saw the curate on the other side crawling over\nthe gate, and crying out in piteous tones, \"It won't open.\"\n\n\"Not it,\" was the reply, \"and if you can't jump a gate like that,\nI'm sure you can't preach a sermon. Good-bye.\"\n\nBut he was not only a mighty hunter, he was also an excellent parish\npriest and a fine preacher, though not always depending on his own\nsermons. He was ordered to preach at one of Bishop Phillpotts'\nvisitations. His sermon was good, and at the consequent dinner\nthe Bishop complimented him in almost exaggerated terms for \"his\nsplendid sermon.\" Russell knew that the Bishop when most oily was\nmost dangerous, and suspected that he had recognised the sermon, so,\nas always, ready, he said in returning thanks, \"As to the sermon, my\nlord, I quite agree with you. I have ever considered it as one of\nBarrow's best.\" Needless to say, the Bishop collapsed.\n\nI can cap that with another anecdote.\n\nThe late Dr. Cornish, of Ottery S. Mary, was pompous and\npatronising. A curate under him, recently ordained, preached his\nfirst sermon. In the vestry the vicar, swelling out, said, \"For a\nbeginner it was not wholly bad.\" \"Ah, Doctor, I must not take any\ncredit to myself. It is one of Bishop Andrews' finest discourses.\"\nNeedless to say that Doctor Cornish's stomach went in.\n\nThere have not been many conspicuous lights from Blundell's. Perhaps\nthe most famous of them is the present Archbishop of Canterbury.\n\nThe school has passed through many vicissitudes. By a Chancery\ndecision in 1846 all boarders were swept away and the school reduced\nto seventeen boys. \u00a310,000 were put into the lawyers' pockets in\ndefending the suit, whereby the school was reduced well-nigh to\nbankruptcy. By another decision of the courts and at the cost of\nanother \u00a310,000, boarders were restored, and new buildings were\nerected. The old school has been altered into private dwellings.\n\nNear Tiverton is Washfield, where there is a very fine Jacobean\nscreen with the arms of James I. upon it, and in the north aisle\nthose of Charles as Prince of Wales. It deserves a study. In this\nchurch the old parish orchestra still performs on Sunday, or did so\ntill recently. There is here a curious church-house with an oriel\nwindow.\n\nOutside the churchyard was buried a squire of the parish, so wicked\nthat he was denied a place in consecrated ground. Three times were\nActs of Parliament passed to enable either sale of property or the\nmanagement to be taken from successive squires as one after another\nwas mad. Worth House has now passed away from the family of that\nname, which has died out in the male line.\n\nIn 1810 much public interest was excited by a report of spiritual\nmanifestations at Sampford Peverell, five miles from Tiverton, and\nthe Rev. C. Colton published an account of them. They consisted of\nthe usual rappings, dealing of heavy blows, and the throwing about\nthe room of heavy articles. That these were produced by some cunning\nservant-maid cannot be doubted. Mr. Colton, who vouched for the\ntruth of the phenomena, did not bear a good character; he ended his\ndays by suicide, after having been \"unfrocked,\" and his last years\nspent in gambling-houses.\n\nThat these tricks were at one time not unfrequently resorted to\nis probable. The Germans give them as the work of a Poltergeist.\nIn my own neighbourhood, in or about 1852, a precisely similar\nexhibition took place. Stones, cups, pans flew about a room,\nand strange knockings were heard. Many people went to witness\nthem, and came away convinced that they were the work of spirits;\nespecially was it so with one yeoman, whose hat was knocked off\nhis head by the spirit. My father investigated the matter, and\ncame to the conclusion that the whole was contrived by a girl of\nlow intelligence but of much cunning. It is now, with the advance\nof education, persons of a superior grade who are the dupes of\nspirit-mediums. Education will not give brains, but it will varnish\nemptiness.\n\nAt Tiverton lived, till a few years ago, \"Old Snow,\" a rather famous\n\"white witch,\" to whom many persons had recourse, among others a\nfarmer who was a churchwarden and a well-to-do man. I knew him well,\nand in 1889 believed him to be a doomed man, with a hacking cough,\nworn to a shred, and bent by weakness. Having consulted all the\nprominent doctors in the south of the county, he went in desperation\nto \"Old Snow.\" What the white witch did to him I cannot say, but I\ncan testify he was a changed man from that day, and is at present a\nrobust, hale man, looking good for another twenty or thirty years.\n\nIn an article I wrote on \"White Witches\" for the _Daily Graphic_ I\nmentioned this case. Some days after I met the farmer. \"Why,\" said\nhe, \"you have put me in the papers.\" \"So I have,\" I answered, \"but\nwhat I told was literally true.\" \"True--aye,\" he said, \"every bit.\nOld Snow cured me when the faculty gave me up. _How_ he did it,\nneither you nor I know.\"\n\nThe white witch is an institution that has not been killed by board\nschools in the West, nor, as far as can be judged from the favour\nin which he is still regarded, is he likely to die. A witch is\ngenerally supposed to be the feminine of wizard, but in the West of\nEngland \"witch\" is of common gender, and those in highest repute are\nmen. Their trade consists in prescribing for the sick, in informing\nthose who have been \"overlooked\" whose evil eye has influenced them\nfor ill, where lost articles are to be found, and how spells cast on\ntheir cattle are to be broken.\n\nA white witch is one who repudiates utterly having any traffic\nwith the Evil One. His or her knowledge is derived from other\nsources--what, not specified. I had for many years as a tenant in\none of my cottages a woman who was much consulted as a white witch.\nShe is now dead, and her decease is a matter of outspoken regret.\n\nThe village inn frequently had guests staying there to undergo\na course of \"blessing\" from this woman. She was an ill-favoured\nperson, with a wall-eye, and one eye higher in her head than the\nother. She was bent, heavy-featured, and stoutly built. A worthy\nwoman, scrupulously neat in her person, and who kept her cottage in\nbeautiful order. She certainly believed in her own powers, and as\ncertainly performed very remarkable cures, which it was not possible\nto deny, though they might be explained. For instance, in the\nhayfield in a parish four miles distant as the crow flies, eight by\nroad, a young man cut his leg with the scythe, and the blood spurted\nout. At once the farmer dipped the man's handkerchief in the blood,\nmounted one of his men on a horse, and sent him galloping to the\nwhite witch, who took the kerchief, blessed it, and simultaneously\nfour miles off as the crow flies, the blood was stanched. The son of\nthe largest farmer in the place, a man who is worth his thousands,\nwas suffering from glandular ulcerations in the neck. The village\ndoctor attended him and did him no good. He consulted the principal\nmedical man in the nearest market town, also to no advantage. Time\npassed and he was no better; he gave up consulting doctors, who sent\nhim in bills and left him rather worse than when they began on him.\nAt last he went to the white witch. Whether she \"struck\" his glands\nor prescribed some herbs I cannot say, but what I do know is that\nwithin a month the young man was perfectly well.\n\nThe woman, who was my tenant, was no conscious impostor, of that\nI am convinced. What her secret was she would not communicate,\nbut most earnestly did she deprecate any communication with evil\nspirits. Not only did the village innkeeper derive a certain\nrevenue from patients lodging in his house to be under treatment\nby her, but the postmen of the neighbourhood also earned their\ncrumbs by carrying kerchiefs blessed by her to sufferers within\ntheir districts. It was no uncommon sight to see a walking postman\ncareering along with arms extended holding a kerchief in each hand,\nfluttering as he walked. It is held that the blessing is drawn out\nof the material if it be folded, put in a pocket, and handled other\nthan most gingerly between finger and thumb.\n\nWhen among the educated, the cultivated classes, we find belief\nin faith-healing, and so-called \"Christian Science,\" is it to be\nwondered at that in classes lower down in the scale there should be\ncredulous persons who not only believe in white witches, but believe\nin their own powers as white witches?\n\nIt is the same as in the Lourdes miracles; the imagination acts\non the nervous system, and that stimulates the body to throw off\ndisease. That is the true secret.\n\nI cannot doubt but that in many cases herbs are employed that have\nbeen sadly neglected ever since our doctors have gone in for mineral\nmedicines. The latter act violently, but the herbs slowly, and, in\nmany instances, more surely.\n\nHowever, in the majority of cases the white witches are mere\nimpostors, and may do much harm, as in that I will now record, which\ntook place three years ago only. I shall, for obvious reasons, not\ngive the true names, nor indicate the locality.\n\nA cattle dealer in 1896 had a daughter, who two years previously had\nbeen a victim to influenza. This had affected her head and produced\nprofound melancholy. As doctors proved unavailing, the man went to\nExeter and consulted a white witch there. According to his statement\nthe witch showed him the face of a neighbour, Mrs. Thomas, in a\nglass of water, and told him that his daughter was \"overlooked\" by\nthe person he saw. The white witch further informed him that the\nindividual who had \"ill wished\" his daughter passed his door every\nday, but had hitherto never entered it, but that on the following\nSaturday she would do so. The cattle dealer returned home, and, sure\nenough, next ensuing Saturday Mrs. Thomas entered his house and\nasked if he would take of her a little meat she had to spare, as she\nhad been killing a pig.\n\nNext night the Thomases' house was set on fire. It was thatched, and\nsix persons slept under the thatch. By the merest chance Mr. Thomas\nwoke in the night, and hearing a strange sound went outside his\nhouse to see what was the matter, and found his roof in flames. He\nhad barely time to rouse and bring forth his wife and family before\nthe roof fell in.\n\nIt was ascertained by the police that the thatch had been\ndeliberately fired. The incendiary had struck two matches, which\nhad failed, and in drawing the matches from his pocket had dropped\ntwo halfpenny stamps. He had climbed on to a hedge to effect his\nobject, and the third match had ignited the thatch. But it was never\nascertained _who_ had done the deed.\n\nA few years ago I wrote the little account of \"Devonshire White\nWitches\" for the _Daily Graphic_ already referred to. This brought\ndown on me a copious shower of letters from all parts of England,\nentreating me to furnish the addresses of some of our white witches,\nas the correspondents had found it profitless and expensive to apply\nto medical practitioners, and they were anxious to try the cures of\nthese conscious or unconscious impostors.\n\nTiverton parish was ecclesiastically divided into four quarters,\neach under an independent rector, and all co-equally regnant in the\nparish church. The arrangement was not happy--and led to constant\nruffles and conflict of opinion. The condition was so unsatisfactory\nthat the late Bishop of Exeter and present Archbishop carried an Act\nto alter it.\n\nTiverton is a seat of machine-lace manufacture, introduced by Mr.\nJohn Heathcoat in 1816.\n\nLace is said to have been brought into France by Mary de Medici from\nVenice; and the making of this beautiful work of art rapidly spread\nand took root in the Low Countries. Refugees from Flanders brought\nit into England, when they settled at Cranfield, in Bedfordshire.\nThe lace made was Brussels point; the network was formed by bone\nbobbins on a pillow, which held the threads, and the sprigs were\nworked with a needle.\n\nThe introduction of machinery told heavily on the commoner and\ncoarser lace-making.\n\nIn the reign of George II., or about a hundred and fifty years after\nthe introduction of the first knitting machines, many additions\nand improvements were made in them, and the so-called \"tickler,\"\nguided by mere accident, was now applied for the first time to the\nmanufacture of lace. This attempt was succeeded by a \"point-net\"\nmachine, an invention that was nearly, but not entirely, successful.\n\nIn 1768 a watchmaker, named Hammond, applied the stocking-frame\nto the manufacture of lace, but it worked slowly and without\naccuracy. Attempts were made in various parts of the kingdom to make\nfishing-nets by machinery, and a workman discovered, by observing\na child at play, the secret of the \"bobbin and carriage,\" which\nwas first applied to the manufacture of fishing-nets. It was not,\nhowever, till 1809 that Mr. Heathcoat patented his machine, which\ncombined the discoveries of the past with immense improvements of\nhis own.\n\nThe point-net frame had been invented in the early years of the\ncentury. Attempts were made to produce a twist mesh. Heathcoat\ndivided the warp threads and put them on a beam, apart from the\ntransverse threads, which latter he wound upon thin bobbins, and\narranged them so that they could pass around and amongst the former.\n\nThis machine was, however, complex, having twenty-four motions to\nthe series for twisting the mesh, and four for the pins to secure\nthe twist when unravelling, but after the expiration of the patent\nit was simplified so as to require only six, with two motions to\nprevent the unravelment.\n\nThe introduction of mechanism threatening the manufacture at home\nprovoked grave riots in the counties of Nottingham, Derby, and\nLeicester, headed by a weaver named Ludd, who gave his name to\nthe riots. The man himself was really insane. Troops of men went\nabout breaking machines and intimidating workers in the factories.\nWilliam Horsfall, a Marsden manufacturer, they murdered. This\nwas in 1813. Although peremptory punishment fell on the rioters,\nstill insecurity to life and property continued for some years,\nand induced Mr. Heathcoat to transfer his frames to and start as\na manufacturer in Tiverton in 1816, and abandon his factory at\nLoughborough. He brought with him as a foreman Mr. Asher, who had\nbeen shot at and wounded in the back of his head by the rioters.\nThis transfer was so much loss to Loughborough and gain to Tiverton,\nand that not temporary, but lasting, for what was begun in 1816 is\ncontinued to this day in full vigour, finding employment for 1400\nhands and 130 children. John Heathcoat's only child and daughter\nmarried a solicitor named Amory, and their son was made a baronet\nby Mr. Gladstone in 1874, a well-deserved honour, as, but for the\nintroduction of the lace manufacture, Tiverton would have sunk to\nthe position of a stagnant county town.\n\nThe Exe valley below Tiverton presents pleasant scenery, but nothing\nfine. An excursion should be made to Cullompton in the Culm (Welsh\n_c\u00fbll_, Gael. _caol_, narrow, slender) valley to see the interesting\nchurch with its fine restored screen in all the splendour of colour.\nCullompton had the wit to preserve and cherish what Tiverton cast\naway. Uffculme has also a screen; near this is Bradfield House, a\nrare treasury of old oak carving. Culmstock has a stone screen,\nwhich has stupidly been converted into a reredos.\n\nHolcombe Rogus is a very fine specimen of an Elizabethan house and\nhall. In the church is some beautiful cinque-cento carved screenwork\nto the manorial pew.\n\nAt Bickleigh was born Bampfylde Moore Carew in 1693. His father\nwas the rector, and the son was educated at Blundell's School at\nTiverton, where he showed considerable ability. He and other boys\nkept a pack of hounds, and as these, with Carew and others behind\nthem, once gave chase to a deer strayed from Exmoor over standing\ncorn, so much damage was done that the farmers complained.\n\nBampfylde Moore Carew was too great a coward to wait and take\nhis whipping. He ran away from school, and sheltered among some\ngipsies. He contracted such a love for their vagrant life, and such\nsatisfaction in getting their applause for thefts that manifested\nlow cunning, that nothing would induce him to abandon their mode\nof life and return to civilisation. At one time he postured as a\nnon-juring parson who had been forced to leave his rectory, and\npreyed on the sympathy of the Jacobite gentry. Then learning from a\nnewspaper that a cargo of Quakers bound for Philadelphia had been\nwrecked on the Irish coast, he disguised himself as a Friend, and\ntraded on the charity of the Quakers by representing himself as one\nof those who had been rescued from the sea.\n\nHe was elected King of the Beggars on the death of Clause Patch,\nwho had reigned previously over the mendicants. At last he was\narrested, tried at the quarter sessions at Exeter, and transported\nto Maryland, where he was sold to a planter, and as he tried to\nescape an iron collar was riveted about his neck. He again escaped;\nthis time succeeded in getting among the Indians, who relieved him\nof his collar. He stole a canoe from his benefactors, and got on\nboard a vessel sailing for England. What became of him is not known,\nbut he is thought to have died in obscurity in 1770, aged 77, but\nwhere buried is unknown. The fellow was a worthless rogue, without a\nredeeming quality in him.\n\nThe Bampton Fair is an institution that should not be passed\nby unsought by the visitor to North Devon, if he be a lover of\nhorseflesh or a student of mankind. He will see there choice\nspecimens alike of Exmoor ponies and of North Devon farmers, and\nwill catch many a waft of the broadest dialect of the borders of\nSomerset and Devon.\n\nA writer in _S. Paul's Magazine_, December 12th, 1896, says:--\n\n     \"As a dead-alive, arch\u00e6ologically interesting place, the Devon\n     Bampton on the Exe is a more or less desirable centre for the\n     angler and the hunting man, but ordinarily, in the eyes of the\n     unsporting, sane person, it is a useful hole to strive to avoid.\n\n     \"Bampton Fair, however, is a celebration once to be seen by\n     every woman or man who has eyes, ears, and nose for novelty.\n     Such lowing of oxen, bleating of sheep, and assemblage of\n     agrestics and congregation of ponies! The side shows are naught.\n     Who cares for gingerbread, pasties, cockles, fairings, tipsy\n     yokels, trolloping hussies, and other attributes of B\u0153otia\n     let loose? The play's the thing--that is, the pony exhibition.\n     Nijni Novgorod is all very well--quite unique in its way; Rugby,\n     Barnet, and Brampton Brian fairs are things apart. But Bampton\n     Fair is absolutely _sui generis_. Exmoor ponies throng the\n     streets, flood the pavements, overflow the houses, pervade the\n     place. Wild as hawks, active and lissom as goats, cajoled from\n     the moors and tactfully man\u0153uvred when penned, these indigenous\n     quadrupeds will leap or escalade lofty barriers in a standing\n     jump, or a cat-like scramble, whilst the very 'suckers' have to\n     be cajoled with all the D\u00e6dalian adroitness with which the Irish\n     pig has to be induced to go whither it would not.\"\n\nThe great sale of ponies formerly took place at Simonsbath, but it\nwas moved to Bampton in 1850, and is held on the last Thursday in\nOctober.\n\n\"Seventy years ago,\" said a bailiff, \"there were only five men and\na woman and a little girl on Exmoor, and that little girl was my\nmother. She drew beer at Simonsbath public-house. There were a rough\nlot of customers then, I promise you.\"\n\nThe moor was the property of the Crown, and it was leased in part to\nSir Thomas Dyke Acland since 1818, and was used for the rearing of\nponies and the summering of sheep.\n\nThere was a good deal of horse stealing in the early days of this\ncentury. In spite of the severe laws on this sort of theft, and of\nthe Acland brand of the anchor, a good many ponies were spirited\naway by the shepherds and disposed of in Wiltshire. The Acland breed\nis pure, and can only be obtained from the Baronet. All the rest are\nthe result of crossing. Sir Thomas moved his stock away from Exmoor\nto the Winsford Hills, and left only a dozen mare ponies to preserve\nthe line, when the father of the late Sir Frederick Knight rented\n10,000 acres of the moor and added 6000 subsequently.\n\n     \"An after-dinner conversation led Mr. Knight to consider the\n     great pony question in all its bearings. The party met at Sir\n     Joseph Banks's, the eminent naturalist. They discussed the\n     merits of the Dongola horse, which had been described as an\n     Arab of sixteen hands and peculiar to the regions round Nubia.\n     Sir Joseph proposed to the party to get some of the breed, and\n     accordingly Lords Headly, Morton, and Dundas, and Mr. Knight\n     then and there gave him a joint \u00a31000 cheque as a deposit for\n     the expenses. The English consul in Egypt was applied to, and in\n     due course the horses and mares which he sent bore out Bruce's\n     description to the letter. In addition to their height, they\n     were rather Roman-nosed, with a very fine texture of skin, well\n     chiselled under the jowl, and as clean-winded as all their race.\n     About ten or twelve arrived, and Mr. Knight was so pleased\n     with them that he bought Lord Headly's share. His two sires\n     and three mares were then brought to Simonsbath, where he had\n     established a stud of seven or eight thoroughbred mares and\n     thirty half-breeds of the coaching Cleveland sort.\n\n     \"The first cross knocked out the Roman nose as completely as\n     the Leicester destroys the Exmoor horn, but the buffy stood\n     true to its colour, and thus the type was never quite lost.\n     The half Dongolas did wonderfully well with the West Somerset,\n     which often came to Exmoor to draw for a fox, and they managed\n     to get down the difficult hills so well, and crossed the brooks\n     so close up with the hounds, that the vocation of the white-clad\n     guides on chase days gradually fell into disuse.\"[12]\n\n  [12] Condensed from \"The Exmoor Ponies,\" by \"DRUID,\" in _The\n  Sporting Magazine_, October, 1860.\n\nThe average height is 12\u00bd hands, and bays and buffy bays with\nmealy noses prevail; in fact, are in a majority of at least three to\none.\n\nThe older ponies live all through the winter on the hills, and seek\nout sheltered spots for themselves during the continuance of wind\nand rain. These favourite nooks are well known to the herdsmen,\nwho build up stacks of hay and straw, which are doled out to them\nin times of snow. \"Still, like honest, hard-working labourers, the\nponies never assemble at the wicket till they have exhausted every\nmeans of self-support by scratching with their fore-feet in the snow\nfor the remnants of the summer tufts, and drag wearily behind them\nan ever lengthening chain of snowballs.\"\n\nA writer in _All The Year Round_ for May, 1866, says:--\n\n     \"Throughout North Devon and Somersetshire and wherever ponies\n     are famed, the Exmoor breed have a great reputation, not without\n     reason, for they are not only hardy and sure-footed, but from\n     their earliest years the foals follow their dams at a gallop\n     down the _crees_ of loose stones on the steep moorland sides;\n     they are extraordinarily active and courageous. The writer once\n     saw an Exmoor, only 44 inches high, jump out of a pound 5 feet 6\n     inches in height, just touching the top bar with his hind feet.\"\n\nWell, let a visitor go to Bampton Fair, and see the pranks of these\nwild, beautiful creatures, and note as well the skill with which\nthey are managed by the men experienced in dealing with them. Such\na sight will remain in his memory, and when he gets back to town he\nwill have something to talk about at dinner, and if he has a bit of\ndescriptive power in him he will hold the ears of those who are near\nhim at table.\n\n     NOTE.--HARDING (Lt.-Col.), _The History of Tiverton_. Tiverton,\n     1845.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nBARNSTAPLE\n\n     The _stapol_ of Branock's district--The Irish settlers--Branock\n     badly received in South Wales--Situation of Barnstaple--Huguenot\n     refugees--Samuel Pepys's wife--Jacques Fontaine--French names\n     altered--Barnstaple the starting-point for Ilfracombe and\n     Lynton--The coast road--Exmoor--Combe Martin--The Valley\n     of Rocks--The Wichehalses of Lee--Brendon--S. Brendan's\n     voyages--Churches near Barnstaple.\n\n\nThis town was the _stapol_, port or mart, of the district of Barum,\nBraun, or Brannock, an Irish saint, confessor, and son-in-law to\nBrychan, King of Brecknock, who settled at Braunton, formerly\nLlan-Brynach, then Brannock-stow. The northern cheek of Barnstaple\nBay is formed by a peninsula, the centre of which is this same\nBraunton, where Branock had his monastic establishment. As\nintimately associated with this district, a few words on him may be\nallowed.\n\nIn the fifth century the whole of North Devon and North-east\nCornwall was invaded and occupied by Irish and half-Irish hordes.\nIrish accounts relate that these invasions began about 378, and\ncontinued till the reign of Dathi, 428.\n\n[Illustration: QUEEN ANNE'S WALK, BARNSTAPLE]\n\nThe Irish had made themselves masters of Brecknock, where their\nprince, Aulac or Amalghaid, claimed the throne in virtue of\nhis wife Marchell, daughter and heiress of the native Welsh king.\nBrychan, the son, succeeded him; he had as tutor to his children\nan Irishman named Brynach or Branock, who was his confessor, and\nto whom he gave one of his daughters in marriage. Branock did not\nhave a pleasant time of it in South Wales, and he migrated to North\nDevon, where, by some means, he obtained a grant of a considerable\ntract of country.\n\nHis legend was extant at the time of the Reformation, and Leland,\nHenry VIII.'s antiquary, who travelled in Devon and Cornwall, saw\nit, and says it was full of fables about Branock's cow, his staff,\nhis well, and his serving-man, Abell.\n\nUnhappily, this has been lost, and all we know concerning him is\nfrom a Latin life, composed in Wales, that passes hurriedly over his\nlife elsewhere and relates mainly what took place when he returned\nto South Wales. There he was very ill received, owing to the hatred\nentertained towards the Irish. A woman--the author of the life does\nnot say as much, but we may suspect it, his wife--instigated a man\nto assassinate him. Brynach was wounded, but not killed, and he had\nto shift his quarters. He probably returned to Devon and died there.\n\nBraunton Church contains some fine oak carving, and deserves a visit.\n\nBarnstaple lies stretched along the bank of the Taw, and from the\nriver has a prepossessing appearance. There are, however, few\nobjects of interest in the town. The church of S. Peter, with a lead\nspire that leans, is interesting internally from the many monuments\nit contains of wealthy Barnstaple merchants.\n\nA tall, good tower to Holy Trinity helps greatly to give dignity\nto an otherwise unattractive town, made pre-eminently so by the\nunsightliness of the ranges of suburban residences that line the\nroads out of it.\n\nBut Barnstaple is important as having given shelter to a number\nof refugees at the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and their\ndescendants still live in the town, though under names that have\nbecome much altered. Among these refugees was the family of St.\nMichel, and Samuel Pepys married one of the daughters. The St.\nMichels were of good family, of Anjou, but a son having taken up\nwith Huguenot religious notions, was disinherited, and came to\nEngland. There he married the daughter of Sir Francis Kingsmill,\nand had a son and daughter. He returned to France, but was in\nvery indigent circumstances, and during an absence from home his\nchildren were removed to an Ursuline convent. St. Michel, however,\nrecovered them and fled with them and his wife to England, and\narrived at Barnstaple, but settled near Bideford. How Samuel Pepys\nmet Elizabeth St. Michel we do not know. He was married to her\nbefore the justice of peace on December 1st, 1655, but as he always\nobserved October 10th as his wedding day it is probable that he,\nlike many another, had been secretly married by a priest of the\nChurch of England, and merely conformed to the law afterwards on\nDecember 1st. She was fifteen only when Pepys married her, and the\nyoung couple found an asylum in the family of Pepys's cousin, Sir\nEdward Montagu, afterwards Earl of Sandwich. She was a pretty, but a\nsilly woman, and much inclined to jealousy, but indeed Sam gave her\ngood cause for that.\n\n     \"1668-9, Jan. 12. This evening I observed my wife mighty dull,\n     and I myself was not mighty fond, because of some hard words\n     she did give me at noon, out of a jealousy at my being abroad\n     this morning, which, God knows, it was upon the business of the\n     Office unexpectedly; but I to bed, not thinking but she would\n     come after me. But waking by and by, out of a slumber, which\n     I usually fall into presently after my coming into the bed, I\n     found she did not prepare to come to bed, but got fresh candles,\n     and more wood for her fire; it being mighty cold, too. At this\n     being troubled, I after awhile prayed her to come to bed; so,\n     after an hour or two, she silent, and I now and then praying her\n     to come to bed, she fell out into a fury, that I was a rogue,\n     and false to her. I did, as I might truly, deny it, and mighty\n     troubled, but all would not serve. At last, about one o'clock,\n     she came to my side of the bed, and drew the curtains open, and\n     with the tongs red hot at the ends, made as if she did design to\n     pinch me with them, at which, in dismay, I rose up, and with a\n     few words she laid them down; and did by little and little, very\n     sillily, let all discourse fall; and about two, but with much\n     seeming difficulty, came to bed, and there lay well all night,\n     and lay in bed talking together, with much pleasure, it being, I\n     knew, nothing but her doubt at my going out yesterday, without\n     telling her of my going, which did vex her, poor wretch! last\n     night, and I cannot blame her jealousy, though it do vex me to\n     the heart.\"\n\nOne of the Huguenot refugees was a pastor, Jacques Fontaine, who\ncame over with Mlle. de Boursaquotte, to whom he was affianced.\n\nThey were taken in and hospitably received. He kept a diary, which\nhas been published. At first he joined the communion of the Church,\nbut later on, when the Corporation placed S. Anne's Chapel at the\ndisposal of the French refugees, he became their minister. The diary\nnarrates his difficulties.\n\n     \"God had not conducted us to a haven there [at Barnstaple] to\n     perish with hunger. The good people of Barnstaple were full of\n     compassion, they took us into their houses, and treated us with\n     the greatest kindness; thus God raised up for us fathers and\n     mothers in a strange land. I was taken into the house of a most\n     kind and charitable gentleman--a Mr. Downe. He was a bachelor,\n     of some forty years of age, and had an unmarried sister living\n     with him; they were kindness itself, and I was completely\n     domesticated with them. My intended wife had been received into\n     the house of a Mr. and Mrs. Fraine.\"\n\nUnfortunately, Miss Downe, a short, thin, sallow old maid, marked\nwith small-pox, fell in love with the French refugee, and made\nadvances to him which were unmistakable. She plainly told him that\nshe thought that he and the Boursaquotte were a pair of fools to\nthink of being married, when they had not a penny between them to\nbless themselves with; and finally, as M. Fontaine would take no\nhints, she fairly threw herself at his head with an offer of her\nperson and fortune. The minister retired in dismay, and sought his\nhost.\n\n\"What is to be done?\" said he. \"Your sister has shown me the honour\nof offering herself to me, but--but I am engaged to Mlle. de\nBoursaquotte.\"\n\n\"Make yourself easy on that score,\" said Mr. Downe. \"I am enamoured\nof that lady, and I will relieve you of her.\"\n\nThe result was a hasty marriage between M. Fontaine and Mlle.\nBoursaquotte; they were united by the vicar, in the parish church,\non February 8th, 1686, and in the register are entered as \"James\nFountain and Elizabeth Buzzacott.\" This latter name is still common\nin the town.\n\nOther Huguenot names continue equally altered. L'Oiseau has been\ntranslated into Bird, and Roches into Roach. I came across elsewhere\nin the parish registers another Huguenot family, Blanchepied, which\nhas degenerated into Blampy.\n\nBarnstaple is the starting-point for the grand and almost\nunsurpassed coast line from Ilfracombe to Porlock. Other coasts may\nhave bolder cliffs, but none such a combination of boldness and\nluxuriance of vegetation. It has, moreover, a great advantage--that\na good road runs along it from Ilfracombe to Combe Martin. But from\nthis point the coast is deserted, and the road climbs a thousand\nfeet to the Trentishoe Down, then dives into the Heddon valley to\nthe sweet and peaceful \"Hunter's Inn,\" climbs again over moor,\nand makes for Lynton. The road, however, should be deserted, the\nHeddon stream followed to the mouth, when a good path will be found\nskirting the cliffs to Wooda Bay, a lovely spot; and thence through\nthe grounds of Lee Abbey to the Valley of Rocks, and Lynton.\n\nLynton, and the same may be said of Wooda Bay, has the advantage\nwhich Ilfracombe has not, of having had an architect to design\nmansions and hotels for it that are no disfigurement to the place,\nand are not a blot on the scenery.\n\nFrom Lynton the road follows the coast to Countisbury, after which\nit deserts it.\n\nFor Exmoor Mr. Blackmore's _Lorna Doone_ is a good preparation, but\nthe visitor who expects to find the Doone valley and the slide of\nthe waters at all equal to the description given in that book must\nexpect disappointment.\n\nTo return on our traces. Combe Martin is one long street of not\ninteresting or ancient houses, save \"The Pack of Cards,\" but it has\na fine church, beautifully situated, with a good tower and a well\npreserved screen. Saints are painted on the panels. There are fine\ncanopied niches for SS. Peter and Paul. The vaulting of the screen\nwas removed in 1727. The parvise over the porch is good, and there\nare eight old carved bench-ends.\n\nThere is a curious double lock to the vestry; a small key has to be\nturned before the lock can be made to act under the large key. An\nEarly English triplet is in the south aisle. Behind the brass in the\nwall of William Hancock, Gent., 1587, is his skull in a recess.\n\n[Illustration: CHAPEL ROCK, ILFRACOMBE]\n\nWatermouth Castle, that was passed on the way to Combe Martin, is\nmodern and unsuccessful. A gateway into the gardens is made up of\ncarved armorial coats removed from Berrynarbor, and dating from\n1525. The Berrynarbor Church tower is finer than that of Combe\nMartin. There is a good deal to interest in the church. In the\nValley of Rocks are hut circles, but so mutilated and overgrown\nwith fern as not to be easily distinguishable. Lynton Church has\nbeen well enlarged and is very pleasing. It is fabled that a band\nof marauding Danes succeeded in landing at Lynmouth, ascended the\ncliffs, and were surrounded and massacred in the Valley of Rocks,\nwhich bears the name of \"The Danes\" or \"Danes' Combe.\" But this is\none of those many legends invented to explain a name; the original\nsignification has been lost. It was called originally _Dinas_, the\ncastle or camp. Lee Abbey never was an abbey. It was the seat of\nthe De Wichehalse family, refugees, it is pretended, from the Low\nCountries in or about 1570. But, as a matter of fact, the Wichehalse\nfamily first turns up at Chudleigh nearly half a century before\ntheir reputed flight from Flanders. They were cloth merchants\napparently, and one of the family, Nicholas Wychalse, the third\nson of Nicholas of Chudleigh, having married a wife from Pilton,\nsettled at Barnstaple and died there in 1570. As merchants in the\nwool trade the Barnstaple branch did well, and married into some of\nthe best county families. All the rigmarole about their being _De_\nWichehalse, and being of noble Flemish ancestry, and of their having\nfled from Alva's persecution, may be dismissed as pure fable.\n\nThe story goes that in the reign of Charles II. Sir Edward de\nWichehalse was the head of the house and lived in splendour at Lee\nAbbey. He had an only child, a daughter, who was wooed and proved\nover-fond towards a nobleman high in the favour of James II. The\nlover proved faithless, and the deserted damsel threw herself from\nthe cliffs at Duty Point. The father in vain sought redress by\npetitioning the king, and when the Duke of Monmouth landed at Lyme,\nDe Wichehalse raised levies and hasted to his support. After the\nbattle of Sedgemoor Sir Edward returned to Lee, but emissaries of\nthe king were sent to apprehend him, and when De Wichehalse learned\nthat they were approaching, he and his family embarked in Lee Bay\non board a small smack, intending to fly to Dutch William and the\nland whence the ancestral noble had come. The night, however, proved\nstormy, and the boat was lost with all on board.\n\nLee \"Abbey\" came into the possession of the \"De\" Wichalse family in\n1620; there is a monument in Lynton Church to Hugh Wichalse, gent.,\nin 1653. From the Wichalses it passed by _sale_ to the family of\nShort. I can find no Sir Edward in the pedigree, as given by Colonel\nVivian, so it may be hoped that the story is altogether baseless, as\nthe fable of the noble origin of the wool merchant family.\n\nAt Lynton is the fine mansion of Sir George Newnes, the publisher of\n_Tit-Bits_ and many kindred papers, who was created a baronet by Mr.\nGladstone for political services.\n\nExmoor in some respects is finer than Dartmoor, in others less fine.\nIt is finer in that it soars up out of the sea to its full height,\nwhereas the land rises some eight hundred feet to the roots of\nDartmoor. But Exmoor is rounded and lumpy, and has no tors.\n\nIt served as the great barrier to the Dumnonii, broken only by the\nportal at Dulverton. The Black Down is its continuation. Indeed the\ncounty has a natural frontier. The height of Exmoor never attains\nthe altitude of Dartmoor, and is not loftier than the Bodmin moors.\n\nThe long stretches of down without rocks and without bad bogs render\nExmoor a choice place for stag-hunting.\n\nThe valleys to the south of Exmoor that are watered by the Yeo, the\nBray, the Mole, contain scenery that is pleasing, but never rises to\nboldness.\n\nExmoor is interesting as harbouring a strong body of the earlier\ndusky population that occupied the country before the invasion of\nthe Celts. But the river names savour of the Irish settlers rather\nthan of the Britons. Such are the Bray (Ir. _brag_, running water:\nthere is a Bray in Wicklow); the Mole (Ir. _malda_, gentle, slow);\nBarle (Ir. _fuarlach_, _barlach_, chilly).\n\nBut the finest Exmoor scenery is on the Somersetshire side, where\nthe hills rise boldly above the sea, and where rich vegetation\nclothes the shores of the Bristol Channel. From Exmoor, moreover,\na grand view is obtained of the Welsh mountains across the Severn\nsea. One can quite understand S. Branock escaping from a population\nthat looked on him with an evil eye, to the blue hills that rose\nabove the sea not so far to the south, and easily reached in a\nsummer sail--and where, moreover, the land was occupied by his\ncountrymen--the Irish, as conquerors.\n\nThe road to Countisbury passes remarkable earthworks, the\nOldburrough, of uncertain, but probably prehistoric, date.\n\nOn the immediate outskirts of Exmoor is Brendon. The church itself\nis of no particular interest, beyond its dedication to S. Brendan,\nthe Irish navigator, who spent seven years exploring the western\nseas for the Isles of the Blessed, and who may perhaps have\nreached America in the sixth century. The narrative of his voyage\nis, however, full of fable; but the fact of his having made two\nexploring expeditions is fairly well authenticated. The cause of his\nundertaking the voyage was this. One day he and a couple of pupils,\nbrothers, went together in a boat to an islet off the west coast of\nIreland. Brendan left the younger lad with the boat, and ascended\ninto the island with the elder. Presently, as the wind rose, the\nyoung man said to his master, \"I do not think my brother can manage\nthe boat alone, with this wind and the rising tide.\"\n\n\"Be silent,\" said Brendan. \"Do you not suppose I care for the boy as\nmuch as you do yourself?\"\n\nAnd they went further. But the young man became more uneasy, and he\nagain remonstrated. Then Brendan lost his temper and swore at him.\n\"Begone--and be drowned to you!\"\n\nSo the young man returned to the beach and found the boy struggling\nwith the boat. He rushed into the water--and was himself swept away\nby a wave and perished.\n\nNow when Brendan returned and found what had happened, he was full\nof self-reproach, and hurried off to S. Itha, his nurse, to ask her\nwhat was to be done.\n\n\"You will be in trouble,\" she said. \"All his relatives will\ntake this up, and it will occasion a blood feud. Make yourself\nscarce. Besides, you deserve punishment for your inconsiderate and\npassionate conduct. Go to sea.\"\n\nAnd to sea he went in three wicker-work vessels, each covered with\nthree coats of tanned hides, and each with a leather sail, and\nthirty men in each boat.\n\nIn the immediate neighbourhood of Barnstaple is Pilton Church, that\nshould be seen for its fine screen and curious hour-glass; Tawstock\nfor its Bourcher tombs; Chittlehampton for its beautiful tower; and\nAtherington for its screen, a fragment, but that fragment complete\nin every member, a superb specimen. Hall, on the Taw, is the fine\nmansion of the Chichester family.\n\nSwymbridge Church should on no account be omitted. It possesses a\nmagnificent screen, and an ancient pulpit with figures in niches.\nThe modern reredos is bad.\n\nThe Chichester monuments are curious, notably one of a youthful\nChichester, whose portrait is given, and whom the bird of Jove is\nrepresented as carrying off to serve as Ganymede in heaven.\n\nLittleham possesses an ancient fresco of S. Swithun, and a rich\nscreen and benches, that have been carefully and judiciously\nrestored.\n\n     NOTE.--Books on Barnstaple are:--\n\n     CHANTER (J. R.), _Sketches of some Striking Incidents in the\n     History of Barnstaple_. 1865.\n\n     CHANTER (J. R.), _Memorials of the Church of S. Peter,\n     Barnstaple_. 1887.\n\n     CHANTER (R.), _Sketches of the Literary History of Barnstaple,\n     with the Diary of Philip Wyott_. _n.d._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nBIDEFORD\n\n     Ugly modern buildings--\"Westward Ho!\"--Roman roads--The\n     Torridge--The story of King Edmund--The ravages of the sons\n     of Lodbrog--Hingvar and Hubba defeated at Appledore--Brictric\n     the Golden-haired--Bideford Bridge--The herriot--Sir\n     William Coffin--The Newfoundland Fisheries--Sir Richard\n     Grenville--Colonisation of Wokohen--Captain White--The story\n     of the life of Sir Richard Grenville--The _Revenge_--The\n     north coast to Wellcombe--The Hobby Drive--Hartland--S.\n     Nectan--The Promontory of Hercules--Wellcombe--Mutilation of the\n     Church--Wear Gifford.\n\n\nBarnstaple and Bideford are towns that the jerry-builders have\ndone their utmost to make hideous with white brick villas banded\nwith red. It is a curious fact, but fact it is, that a builder\nwithout a grain of taste, if ambitious to make one of his domestic\nmonstrosities attractive, will look into the pattern-book of a maker\nof terra-cotta, and select the most obtrusive ridge-tiles and, above\nall, hip-knobs he can find, frizzle the spine of his roof with the\nformer, clap the latter on his gable, and think that the product is\nstylish. The foliations of the ridge-tiles get broken after a frost,\nand the roof acquires a mangy look, but not till after the villa has\nbeen let as a handsome suburban residence.\n\n[Illustration: SMITHY, HARTLAND]\n\nWhen one encounters this sort of thing, repeated again and again,\nthe heart turns sick, and the visitor is impatient to fly from towns\nthus vulgarised.\n\nTo Bideford he comes full of thoughts of \"Westward Ho!\" and expects\nto find an Elizabethan flavour about the place, only to be woefully\ndisappointed. Even the church is new; only the bridge remains, and\nthat has been menaced with destruction.\n\nBideford has memories, but modern Bideford has made herself\n\u00e6sthetically unworthy of them.\n\nTo begin with, the old Roman, or pre-Roman, road from North Cornwall\npassing through Stratton, that takes its name from the street or\nroad, ran to the ford on the Torridge and passed on to Barnstaple.\n\nAt the beginning of the ninth century the estuary of the Taw and\nTorridge (_Dur_, water, and _Dur-rhyd_, the water ford[13]) invited\nthe entry into the land of the Northmen.\n\n  [13] The ford gave its distinctive appellation to the river above it.\n\nA memorable incident in one of these incursions is connected with a\nromantic story that shall be told in full.\n\nRoger of Wendover gives the tale, founding it on old ballads.\n\n     \"There was, not long ago, in the kingdom of the Danes, a certain\n     man named Lodbrog (Hairy-breeches), who was sprung from the\n     royal race of that nation, and had by his wife two sons, Hingvar\n     and Hubba. One day he took his hawk and went unattended in a\n     little boat to catch small birds and wild-fowl on the seacoast\n     and in the islands. While thus engaged he was surprised by a\n     sudden storm, and carried out to sea, and after having been\n     tossed about for several days and nights, was at last carried\n     in sore distress to the English coast, and landed at Redham,\n     in the province of Norfolk. The people of that country by\n     chance found him with his hawk, and presented him as a sort\n     of prodigy to Edmund, king of the East Angles, who, for the\n     sake of his comely person, gave him an honourable reception.\n     Lodbrog abode some time in the court of the monarch, and as\n     the Danish tongue is very like English, he began to relate\n     to the king by what chance he had been driven to the coast\n     of England. The accomplished manners of King Edmund pleased\n     Lodbrog, as well as his military discipline and the courtly\n     manners of his attendants. Emulous of the like attainments,\n     Lodbrog asked permission of the king to remain in his court,\n     and having obtained his request, he attached himself to the\n     king's huntsman, whose name was Bjorn, that he might with him\n     exercise the hunter's art. But such was the skill of Lodbrog,\n     that he was always successful in hunting or hawking, and being\n     deservedly a favourite with the king, Bjorn became jealous of\n     him, and giving way to deadly hatred, one day, when they were\n     hunting together, he attacked him and slew him, and left his\n     body in a thicket. This done, the wicked huntsman called off his\n     dogs with his horn, and returned home. Now Lodbrog had reared a\n     certain greyhound in King Edmund's court, which was very fond of\n     him, and, as is natural, when the huntsman returned with his own\n     dogs, remained watchful by his master's body.\n\n     \"Next day, as King Edmund sat at table, he missed Lodbrog\n     from the company, and anxiously asked his attendants what had\n     befallen him, on which Bjorn, the huntsman, answered that he had\n     tarried behind in a wood, and he had seen no more of him. But as\n     he was speaking, Lodbrog's dog came into the hall and began to\n     wag his tail and fawn on all, and especially on the king, who,\n     on seeing him, said to his attendants, 'Here comes Lodbrog's\n     dog; his master is not far behind.' He then began to feed the\n     dog, hoping soon to see his master. But he was disappointed, for\n     when the greyhound had satisfied his appetite, he returned to\n     keep his accustomed watch over his master's body. After three\n     days he was compelled by hunger to return to the king's table,\n     and Edmund, greatly wondering, gave orders to follow the dog\n     when he left the hall, and watch whither he went. The king's\n     servants fulfilled his commands, and followed the dog till it\n     led them to Lodbrog's lifeless body. On being informed of this\n     the king was greatly disturbed, and directed that the body\n     should be committed to a more honourable sepulchre. King Edmund\n     then caused diligent inquisition to be made touching the death\n     of Lodbrog; and Bjorn, the huntsman, was convicted of the crime,\n     and by order of the king, the captains and wise men of his court\n     passed sentence on him. The judges unanimously agreed that the\n     huntsman should be put into the boat in which Lodbrog had come\n     to England, and should be exposed on the sea without sail or\n     oar, that it might be proved whether God would deliver him.\"\n\nRoger of Wendover goes on to tell how Bjorn was wafted across to\nDenmark, and there was examined by torture by Hubba and Hingvar,\nsons of Lodbrog, who recognised their father's boat. Bjorn, under\ntorture, declared that Lodbrog had been put to death by Edmund, king\nof the East Angles. The Danes accordingly assembled an army and\ninvaded East Anglia to avenge on Edmund the murder of their father.\n\nThe Norse story does not agree with this at all. According to the\nSagas, Ragnar Lodbrog was seized by \u00c6lla, king of the Northumbrians,\nand was thrown into a dungeon full of serpents, in which he sang\nhis dying song, the famous Krakumal. His sons, they say, were\ncalled Eirekr, Agnarr, Ivar, Bjorn Ironside, Hvitserkr, and Sigurd\nWorm-in-the-eye.\n\nEdmund encamped at the royal vill of Haelesdune (Hoxne), when\nHingvar and Hubba landed at Berwick-on-Tweed, and ravaged the\ncountry on their march through Northumbria. In 870 Hingvar entered\nEast Anglia, and was attacked by Edmund whilst his force was divided\nfrom that of Hubba. Both sides suffered severely. Hubba joined\nHingvar at Thetford, and the united army fought Edmund again. His\nforce was far outnumbered. He was routed, and he and Humbert,\nbishop of Elmham, were taken in a church; Humbert was despatched\nwith the sword. Edmund was tied to a tree, and the Danes shot at\nhim with their arrows, till they were tired of the sport, when he\nwas decapitated, and his head flung into a thicket of the forest of\nHoxne.\n\nSo far we have had nothing about Bideford. But now we come to this\nparish.\n\nHingvar and Hubba (Agnarr and Ivar of the Norse version) were\nprovided by their sisters with an ensign before starting, on which,\nwith their needles, they had wrought the figure of a raven, in\nsymbol of the carnage that their brothers were to cause in revenge\nfor the death of their father. Hingvar and Hubba in 866 ravaged East\nAnglia and Mercia; they wintered in Essex, and in 867 crossed the\nHumber and took York. In 868 they devastated as far as Nottingham.\nIn 870 Edmund fell. Every successive year was marked by fire and\nslaughter. In 876 the Danes were in Exeter, and again in 877. In the\nwinter of 878 Hubba came with twenty-three ships into the estuary\nof the Taw and Torridge with the raven standard, and landed at\nAppledore (_Aweddwr_, W. running water). Here the men of Devon were\nencamped at Kenwith,[14] now Henny Castle, north-west of Bideford,\nwhere earthworks remain to this day in the wood. The Danes attacked\nthe camp, and were repulsed, with the loss of twelve hundred men and\ntheir raven banner. Hubba was also slain. He was buried on the shore\nnear his ships, and a pile of stones was thrown up over him. The\nplace bears the name of Whiblestone, or Hubbastone, but all traces\nof the cairn have disappeared, swept away by the encroachment of the\nsea. So the men of Devon avenged the blood of S. Edmund and of the\nmen of Mercia and East Anglia.\n\n  [14] Observe the Goidelic for _Cen_ for the Brythonic _Pen_. Kenwith\n  is \"The Head of the Wood.\"\n\nIn the time of Edward the Confessor the manor of Bideford belonged\nto Brictric the Golden-haired. He was sent by the king to the\ncourt of Baldwin V., Count of Flanders, where Matilda, the Count's\ndaughter, cast on him an eye of affection. But Brictric did\nnot reciprocate, and Matilda felt all the rage and resentment\nentertained by a flouted fair. Her chance came at last. She\nwas married to William the Bastard, who conquered England. For\nfourteen years she had waited, nursing her wrath. Now, at last, the\nopportunity had arrived for revenge. At her instigation Brictric was\nmade to surrender all his honours and lands, and was conveyed to\nWinchester, where he died in prison, and was hurriedly buried.\n\nWilliam the Conqueror gave Bideford to the son of Hamo the Toothy,\nRichard de Grenville, and the place has never since lost its\nassociation with the Granville family.\n\nSir Theobald Granville in the fourteenth century was a large\nbenefactor to the town in assisting in the building of the bridge,\nrendered advisable by the great loss of life at the ford or in\nthe ferry. It was, however, said to have been set on foot at the\nprompting of Richard Gurney, the parish priest, who dreamed two\nnights running that there was a rock below the ooze on which a pier\nmight rest. But one pier did not suffice, and how to sustain others\non mud was a puzzle. It was--so tradition says--solved by sinking\nbags of wool and laying the bases of the piers on these, a story not\nso improbable as appears on the face.\n\nFor a long time the vicars of Bideford had a herriot, that is, a\nright to the second best horse or cow of any parishioner who died.\nIn 1529 this led to a scene. Sir William Coffin was passing one\nday by the churchyard, when, seeing a crowd collected, he asked\nthe occasion, and learned that a corpse had been brought there to\nbe interred, but that the vicar refused to read the burial service\nunless the dead man's cow were surrendered. But as the deceased had\nleft no other property whatever, the heirs demurred. On hearing\nthis Sir William sent for the priest, and reasoned with him on the\nimpropriety of his conduct; however, the vicar was obstinate and\nwould not give way.\n\n\"Very well, then,\" said the knight, \"stick me in the grave, and\ncover me up instead of the corpse, and you shall have my second best\ncow.\"\n\nHe was proceeding to get into the grave, when the vicar thought\nprudent to yield. I suppose that the matter became notorious by\nthe complaint of the parson, for Sir William was actually summoned\nbefore Parliament on a charge of violating the rights and privileges\nof the Church. But partly through his favour at court, and partly\nby his being able to represent the mischievous consequences of the\narbitrary demand for \"mortuaries,\" Parliament passed an act which\nput a stop to them, or, at all events, in favour of the poor,\nlimited the extent of these claims.\n\nBideford was not a place of much importance till the reign of Queen\nElizabeth; it started into significance through the Newfoundland\ncod-fisheries, which were almost entirely in the hands of the\nBarnstaple, Bideford, and Bristol men as far as England was\nconcerned.\n\nAs early as 1504 the Portuguese had begun to catch fish on those\ncoasts. In 1578 England had fifty vessels, Portugal as many, and\nFrance and Spain together, a hundred and fifty, occupied in reaping\nthe harvest of the sea in the North Atlantic. From 1698 to 1700\nBideford had twenty-eight vessels engaged in the fishery, whilst\nBarnstaple had only seven or eight; London sent out seventy-one, and\nTopsham thirty-four.\n\nBut the raising of Bideford into a port of importance was due mainly\nto the enterprise of the famous Elizabethan admiral, Sir Richard\nGrenville.\n\n     \"Sir Richard was born most probably at Stowe, the Cornish seat\n     of the family, in the parish of Kilkhampton, in the year 1546.\n     His father, Roger, was a captain in the navy, and met with a\n     watery grave at Portsmouth, in a ship called the _Mary Rose_, a\n     vessel of 600 tons, and one of the finest in the navy, commanded\n     by Sir George Carew. She sank with all on board, July 19th,\n     1545, from a similar accident to that which happened to the\n     _Royal George_ near the same place, June 28th, 1782. Being at\n     anchor in calm weather with all ports open, a sudden breeze\n     caused the ship to heel over, when the water entered through the\n     lower ports and sank her. Some guns recovered many years after\n     are preserved in Woolwich Arsenal. Richard Granville was early\n     distinguished among his companions for his enthusiastic love\n     of active exercises, and at the age of sixteen he, in company\n     with several other chivalrous scions of our nobility, obtained\n     a licence from Queen Elizabeth to enter into the service of the\n     Emperor of Hungary against the Turks.\"[15]\n\n  [15] GRANVILLE (R.), _History of Bideford_, _n.d._\n\nHe was engaged in the battle of Lepanto, in which Don Juan of\nAustria, with the combined fleets of Christendom, destroyed the\nTurkish galleys. One can but wish that a combined fleet would once\nmore try conclusions with the Turk.\n\nThen Richard Granville in 1569 was made Sheriff of Cork, but he\nremained in Ireland two years only. By his interest with Queen\nElizabeth he obtained for Bideford a charter of incorporation, 1574.\nHe was High Sheriff of Cornwall in 1578, and was then knighted. But\nthe bias of his mind was towards adventure at sea, and he united\nwith his relative, Sir Walter Raleigh, in the exploration which led\nto the discovery of Virginia and Carolina in 1584.\n\n     \"Two ships belonging to Sir Walter's company, and in the\n     command of Captain Philip Amadas and Arthur Barlow, brought\n     home that important news. The magnitude and eligibility of the\n     territory acquired by the Crown were on everyone's lips; for the\n     accounts of those who had been eye-witnesses of the country,\n     its productions and inhabitants, hastened onwards Raleigh's\n     preparations for taking possession of his newly-found dominions.\n     As soon as the good news spread among the country people in\n     the west, hundreds of hardy adventurers offered themselves as\n     the pioneers of colonisation in that quarter. A fleet of seven\n     ships, of which Sir Richard took the command, was got ready\n     with all possible despatch, and when the anchor was weighed at\n     Plymouth on the 9th of April, 1585, there were none amongst\n     the thousands there assembled but shared the belief that their\n     relatives and friends were departing for a land flowing with\n     milk and honey. The voyage was a pleasant one, being favoured\n     with a prosperous wind, but the inveterate hostility of Sir\n     Richard towards our national enemies, the Spaniards, led him\n     to prolong its duration. He accordingly pursued his course by\n     the roundabout way of the West India islands, and was rewarded\n     by the capture of several valuable prizes during his cruise\n     there. They did not reach the island of Wokohen, on the coast\n     of Carolina, until the 26th of June, thus consuming valuable\n     time on their passage. We are told they were in about 34 degrees\n     North latitude, when, just as they were on the point of entering\n     the roads, the admiral's ship, from some mischance or other,\n     drove on a reef of rocks and went to pieces. It was fortunate\n     that no loss of life heightened the gloom of this inauspicious\n     opening. After great exertions the men rescued the crew of the\n     doomed vessel, and proceeded for the island of Roanoke, a little\n     farther to the northwards. The admiral went at once from that\n     island to the continent, and, on his landing, proceeded to see\n     what sort of country the promised land was. Whilst engaged in\n     this survey, the natives, who were unaccustomed to the sight\n     of beings so different from themselves in colour, costume, and\n     bearing, crowded around, plying them with questions by signs\n     and gestures. Sir Richard appeased their inquisitiveness with\n     the few trifling articles he had designed for them as presents;\n     but their appetites being rather sharpened than appeased by\n     these acquisitions, one of the natives, instigated by the rest,\n     entered Sir Richard's tent, and, attracted by a massive silver\n     goblet belonging to that knight, without more ado walked off\n     with it. The despoiled owner happened at the time to be employed\n     in 'prospecting' the country, but on his return instantly\n     missed the favourite piece of plate. Enraged at this mark of\n     ingratitude when from his conciliatory kindness he had expected\n     good faith, he adopted severe measures on the natives around.\n     He soon after set sail to Roanoke, which all accounts concur\n     in representing as an incommodious station, deficient in all\n     the requisites for a good harbour, and all but uninhabited.\n     Here, having founded a settlement, he left in it a company of\n     180 men. Mr. Ralph Lane, a man of experienced judgment, was\n     elected governor of the infant colony, which ranked among its\n     members several names not unknown to fame. Men well skilled\n     in the different sciences were there, to instruct and improve\n     the growing intelligence of the colony. Of these, Hariot, a\n     mathematician of first-rate eminence in his day, is especially\n     mentioned. Sir Richard made for home with the avowed intention\n     of procuring a reinforcement sufficiently powerful to subdue\n     and colonise the continent of Virginia and Carolina. His good\n     fortune led him in his homeward voyage to fall in with a Spanish\n     register ship, almost as richly laden as the treasure ship the\n     _Cacafuego_, which had enriched, by its capture, his relative\n     Sir Francis Drake and his crew. In this vessel, which Sir\n     Richard engaged and boarded, was stowed away a cargo worth more\n     than \u00a350,000 sterling.\"[16]\n\n  [16] _Grenvilles of Stowe_, by \"A BIDEFORDIAN.\"\n\nWhen Sir Richard Granville had retired, the colonists wasted their\ntime in searching for gold in place of cultivating the soil.\nConsequently they were in a condition of starvation when Sir Francis\nDrake, touching there on his way to England, rescued them from their\nimpending fate.\n\n     \"Not long after, Sir Richard Granville with three ships hove\n     in sight. Ignorant of what had happened he landed with the\n     confident hope of adding vigour and strength to the infant\n     colony for whose welfare he had toiled and sacrificed; but\n     after making the most laborious searches for the absentees,\n     without obtaining any indications of their fate, he set\n     sail, leaving fifteen of his crew ashore for the purpose of\n     retaining possession. This handful of men soon became involved\n     in hostilities with the natives, and were by them destroyed\n     to the last man. However disheartening this unlooked-for\n     succession of disasters might have proved to men of ordinary\n     stamp, they only incited the elastic dispositions of Raleigh\n     and Granville to more vigorous operations. Early, therefore, in\n     the following year (1587), they fitted out three more ships,\n     which were entrusted to the command of Captain John White, a\n     native of Devonshire, a man well versed in all the difficulties\n     and trials attending enterprises of this nature. He brought\n     together a more numerous and determined body of adventurers\n     than had composed the former expedition under Lane; but upon\n     their arrival the same disadvantages which had daunted their\n     predecessors in the colony appeared so forcibly before their\n     senses that, deeming the continuous mass of forest and the\n     endless savannahs of the country only fit for the abode of\n     savages, they with one accord solicited their leader, White, to\n     return to England and bring a fresh supply of articles, that\n     their uncomfortable position might at least be made tolerable.\n     He accordingly retraced his footsteps, arriving in this country\n     at a time when the eyes of the entire nation were intent upon\n     warfare, and, receiving no encouragement from their patrons,\n     the unfortunate colony in Roanoke obtained no assistance; and\n     the painful fact must be repeated, that our first settlers in\n     Virginia were suffered to perish miserably by a famine or to\n     fall ignominiously from the savage hatred of the tribes who\n     surrounded them.\"\n\nKingsley is wrong in stating that Sir Richard was at sea, and\nassisted in the destruction of the Armada; at the time he was acting\nunder orders to remain in Cornwall.\n\nThree years after, in 1591, he was in command of the _Revenge_,\nas Vice-Admiral of England, in which he achieved the glorious\naction off the Azores in which he met his death. His object was to\nintercept the richly-laden fleet of the Spaniards, on its return\nfrom the West Indies; a service of the utmost importance, as thereby\nEngland stopped the sources of Philip's power.\n\nTowards the end of August, the Admiral, Lord Thomas Howard, with six\nof Her Majesty's ships and as many small vessels, was at anchor at\nFlores, when news arrived of the near approach of the great Spanish\nfleet. Many of the Englishmen were ill on shore, and others were\nfilling the ships with ballast. Imperfectly manned and ballasted as\nthey were, there was nothing for it but to make an attempt to escape\nout of the trap in which they were caught, and the ships slipped\ntheir cables. Sir Richard, as Vice-Admiral, was the last to start,\ndelaying to do so till the final moment, in order to collect those\nof his sick crew who were on shore; and this delay was fatal.\n\nThe two great Spanish squadrons hove in sight and intercepted him.\nHowever, he resolved to force his way through. The Spanish fleet\nconsisted of fifty-three vessels. Eleven out of the twelve English\nships had escaped. Sir Richard weighed, uncertain at first what to\ndo. The Spanish fleet were on his weather bow, and he was advised to\ncut his mainsail, cast about, and run before the wind, trusting to\nthe fleetness of his ship. But Sir Richard utterly refused to turn\nhis back on the enemy, alleging that he would die rather than show\nthat to a Spaniard.\n\nThe wind was light. The _San Philip_, a huge high-cargoed ship of\n1500 tons, hove to windward, took the wind out of the sails of the\n_Revenge_, and attempted to board her. The Spanish vessels were\nfilled with soldiers: in some two hundred, in some five hundred, in\nothers eight hundred.\n\nThe _San Philip_ had three tiers of ordnance, with eleven pieces on\nevery tier.\n\nThen, as Tennyson tells the tale:--\n\n    \"Sir Richard spoke and he laughed, and we roared a hurrah, and so\n    The little _Revenge_ ran on sheer into the heart of the foe,\n    With her hundred fighters on deck, and her ninety sick below,\n    For half of their fleet to the right, and half to the left were seen,\n    And the little _Revenge_ ran on thro' the long sea-lane between.\"\n\nThe fight began at three o'clock in the afternoon and continued\nall that evening. The _San Philip_, having received the lower tier\nof the _Revenge_, charged with cross-bar shot, was to some extent\ndisabled, and shifted her quarters. Repeated attempts made to board\nthe English vessel were repulsed. All that August night the fight\ncontinued, the stars shining overhead, but eclipsed by the clouds of\nsmoke from the cannon. Ship after ship came in upon the _Revenge_,\nso that she was continuously engaged with two mighty galleons,\none on each side, and with the enemy boarding her on both. Before\nmorning fifteen men-of-war had been engaged with her, but all in\nvain; some had been sunk, the rest repulsed.\n\n    \"And the rest, they came aboard us, and they fought us hand to hand,\n    For a dozen times they came with their pikes and musqeteers,\n    And a dozen times we shook 'em off, as a dog that shakes his ears,\n    When he leaps from the water to land.\"\n\nAll the powder at length in the _Revenge_ was spent, all her pikes\nwere broken, forty out of her hundred men were killed, and a great\nnumber of the rest wounded.\n\nSir Richard, though badly hurt early in the battle, never forsook\nthe deck till an hour before midnight, and was then shot through the\nbody while his wounds were being dressed, and again in the head, and\nhis surgeon was killed while attending on him. The masts were lying\nover the side, the rigging cut or broken, the upper work all shot in\npieces, and the ship herself, unable to move, was settling slowly in\nthe sea, the vast fleet of the Spaniards lying round her in a ring,\nlike dogs round a dying lion and wary of approaching him in his last\ndying agony. Sir Richard, seeing it was past hope, having fought for\nfifteen hours, ordered the master-gunner to sink the ship; but this\nwas a heroic sacrifice that the common seamen opposed. Two Spanish\nships had gone down, above fifteen hundred men had been killed, and\nthe Spanish admiral could not induce any of the rest of the fleet to\nboard the _Revenge_ again, as they feared lest Sir Richard should\nblow himself and them up.\n\nSir Richard was lying disabled below, and too weak and wounded\nto contest with those who opposed the sinking of the vessel. The\ncaptain now entered into parley with the Spanish admiral, and\nsucceeded in obtaining for conditions that all their lives should\nbe saved, the crew sent to England, and the officers ransomed. Sir\nRichard was now removed to the ship of Don Alfonso Barsano, the\nSpanish admiral, and there died, saying in Spanish:--\n\n     \"Here die I, Richard Granville, with a joyful and quiet mind,\n     for that I have ended my life as a true soldier ought to do\n     that hath fought for his country, queen, religion, and honour:\n     whereby my soul most joyfully departeth out of this body, and\n     shall always leave behind it an everlasting fame of a valiant\n     and true soldier that hath done his duty as he was bound to do.\"\n\nFroude well says:--[17]\n\n  [17] _Forgotten Worthies._\n\n     \"Such was the fight at Flores in that August, 1591, without\n     its equal in such of the annals of mankind as the thing which\n     we call history has preserved to us. At the time England and\n     all the world rang with it. It struck a deeper terror, though\n     it was but the action of a single ship, into the hearts of the\n     Spanish people, it dealt a more deadly blow upon their fame\n     and naval strength, than the destruction of the Armada itself,\n     and in the direct results which arose from it it was scarcely\n     less disastrous to them. Hardly, as it seems to us, if the most\n     glorious actions which are set like jewels in the history of\n     mankind are weighed one against the other in the balance, hardly\n     will those three hundred Spartans, who in the summer morning sat\n     combing their long hair for death in the passes of Thermopyl\u00e6,\n     have earned a more lofty estimate for themselves than this one\n     crew of modern Englishmen. After the action there ensued a\n     tempest so terrible as was never seen or heard the like before.\n     A fleet of merchantmen joined the armada immediately after\n     the battle, forming in all one hundred and forty sail; and of\n     these one hundred and forty, only thirty-two ever saw Spanish\n     harbour; the rest all foundered or were lost on the Azores. The\n     men-of-war had been so shattered by shot as to be unable to\n     carry sail; and the _Revenge_ herself, disdaining to survive her\n     commander, or as if to complete his own last baffled purpose,\n     like Samson, buried herself and her two hundred prize crew under\n     the rocks of St. Michael's.\"\n\n[Illustration: CLOVELLY]\n\nBideford is the starting-point for the north coast of Devon, from\nthe mouth of the Torridge to the Cornish border, and thence to Bude.\n\nThe beauty of this coast is almost unrivalled, equalled only by that\nfrom Ilfracombe to Minehead.\n\nClovelly, with the Hobby Drive, is something to be seen, and one's\neducation is incomplete without it.\n\nAnd one can combine arch\u00e6ology with the quest of beauty, if a visit\nto Clovelly be combined with one to the \"Dykes,\" sadly mutilated by\nroads cut through the embankments. Nevertheless, sufficient remains\nof Clovelly Dykes to make it a fair representative of a British\nking's _Dun_. Beyond Clovelly, somewhat spoiled by being a place of\nresort, but always maintaining much picturesqueness, is Hartland,\nthe settlement of S. Nectan, reputed son, but probably grandson,\nof King Brychan of Brecknock. He is represented in a niche on the\ntower. His name is Irish; Nectans were not uncommon in the Green\nIsle.\n\nVery little is known of S. Nectan. He is said to have been killed,\nhis head cut off--not improbably by the chief at Clovelly Dykes, who\ncannot have relished having the country overrun and appropriated by\na horde of half Irish half Welsh adventurers. And this took place\nprecisely at the time when the Irish grip on Britain was relaxing.\n\nA stone was marked with his blood where he was killed. He got up\nand carried his head to where now stands the church. But \"they all\ndid it.\" These Celtic saints had a remarkable faculty for not only\nlosing their heads, but finding them again.\n\nThere is a grand screen painted and gilt in the church.\n\nAt Hartland Point, the promontory of Hercules of the ancients, is\na lighthouse. When the wind is from the west the Atlantic thunders\nand foams on one side of the headland, whilst on the other in the\nbay the sea lies glassy, and reflects the purple-red slaty cliffs.\nThe point rises 300 feet out of the sea, and was probably at one\ntime occupied by a cliff-castle. A visit to Hartland Quay reveals\nthe most extraordinary contortions in the slate rock. The cliffs are\nsombre, the strata thrust up at right angles to the sea, and over\nthem foam streamlets that discharge themselves into the ocean.\n\nHartland Abbey was founded by Gytha, the wife of Earl Godwin, and\nmother of Harold, in honour of S. Nectan, who, she believed, had\ncome to the assistance of her husband in a storm and saved him from\nshipwreck--as if a true Celtic saint would put out his little finger\nto help a Saxon! But there was unquestionably a monastery here long\nbefore--from the sixth century, when S. Nectan settled on this wild\nheadland.\n\nThe large parish was at one time studded with chapels, but these\nhave all disappeared, or been converted into barns. The church is\ntwo miles from the village of Hartland.\n\nA walk along the cliffs may be carried to Wellcombe, another\nfoundation of S. Nectan, where is his holy well, recently repaired.\nThe church contains a screen earlier in character than is usually\nfound. There were interesting bench-ends with very curious heads.\nAt the \"restoration\" a few of the ends were plastered against the\nscreen, and their unique heads sawn away so as to make them fit the\nplace into which they were thrust, but never designed to occupy.\nTheir places were taken by mean deal benches. I suppose as the\npatron, S. Nectan, lost his head, these chief ornaments of the\nchurch were doomed to the same fate.\n\nWellcombe Mouth is worth a visit; a narrow glen descending to the\nsea, which here rages against precipitous cliffs.\n\nAnother excursion from Bideford should be made to Wear Gifford,\nwhere is one of the finest oak-roofed halls in England.\n\nThe mansion stands on a slope, rising gently from the meadows near\nthe Torridge, yet rears itself into the semblance of a stronghold by\na scarped terrace, which extends along the south front.\n\nHalf concealed in luxuriant vegetation, on the right is the\nembattled gateway tower, still one of the entrances. In approaching\nthe house we see two projecting gables, and between them is the\nentrance and the hall, the latter with its massive chimney.\n\nFrom the entrance the broad oak staircase, having a handsome\nbalustrade, is ascended. The walls are hung with tapestry. On\nreaching the minstrels' gallery an excellent view is obtained of\nthe superb roof, \"one of the most ornate and tasteful specimens of\nPerpendicular woodwork to be met with in England. Every portion\nis carved with the spirit and stroke of the true artist; and the\nmultiplied enrichments seen in detail from our elevated position\nquite surprise the spectator.\"[18]\n\n  [18] ASHWORTH: \"The Ancient Manor House of Wear Gifford,\" in _Trans.\n  of the Exeter Diocesan Architect. Soc._, vol. vi., 1852.\n\nElaborately carved wainscot panelling surrounds the walls, covering\nabout ten feet in height. It is adorned with heraldic shields, and\nopposite the fireplace are the arms of Henry VII.\n\nThis small, perfect, and beautiful specimen of an old English\nmansion was the cradle of one of the best of Devonshire families,\nthe Giffards, a branch of which was at Brightley. The last of the\nWear Gifford stock conveyed the estate and mansion with his daughter\nand heiress to the Fortescues. But the Giffard race is by no means\nextinct, it is now well represented by the Earl of Halsbury.\n\n  NOTE.--Book on Bideford:--\n  GRANVILLE (R.), _History of Bideford_. Bideford, 1883.\n\n[Illustration: STAPLE TOR]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nDARTMOOR AND ITS ANTIQUITIES\n\n     Geological structure of Dartmoor--Granite--\"Clitters\"--Building\n     with granite--The bogs--The rivers--Rock\n     basins--Logan stones--Kaoline deposits--Hut\n     circles--Cooking-stones--Pottery--Pounds--Grimspound--Position\n     of women in early times--Approximate period to which the relics\n     belong--The cromlech--The kistvaen--The stone circle--The\n     stone row--The menhir--Cairns--Modes of interment among the\n     pagan Irish--Stone crosses--Tinners' burrows and stream\n     works--Blowing-houses.\n\n\nThe great irregular tableland of Dartmoor, an upheaval of granite\nover a thousand feet above the sea, and in places attaining to above\ntwo thousand, occupies two hundred and twenty-five square miles of\ncountry. Of that, however, less than one half is the \"Forest\" and\nbelongs to the Duchy of Cornwall. Around the forest are the commons\nbelonging to the parishes contiguous to the moor.\n\nThe moor is almost throughout of granite. At the outskirts, indeed,\ngabbro and trap exist, that have been forced up at the points where\nthe granite has burst through the slate, and these later uprushes of\nmolten matter have greatly altered the granite in contact with them,\nand have produced an elvan.\n\nThe most extraordinary difference in kinds and composition exists\nthroughout the granitic area. Some granite is very coarse, full of\nwhat are locally called \"horse-teeth,\" crystals of felspar, other\nis finely grained. Some is black with schorl, some, as that of Mill\nTor, white as statuary marble. Granite was not well stirred before\nit was protruded to the surface. The constituents of granite are\nquartz, felspar, and mica; the latter sometimes white, at others\nusually black and glistering. The felspar may be recognised as being\na dead white. The black shining matter found near where are veins of\ntin, is schorl.\n\nIt is the opinion of modern geologists that the granite never saw\ndaylight till cold and consolidated, and that granite when in fusion\nand erupted to the surface resolves itself into trap. The pressure\nof superincumbent beds prevented perfect fusion. In its altered\ncondition when perfectly fused it may be seen in Whit Tor, near Mary\nTavy.\n\nBut, it may be asked, what has become of the beds that overlay the\ngranite? They have been washed away. In Exmoor we do not meet with\nthe granite. It had heaved the slates, but not sufficiently to so\ndislocate them as to enable the rains and floods to carry them away\nand reveal the granite below. If Dartmoor granite could but have\nretained its covering matter, the region would have been indeed\nmountainous. In Shavercombe, a lateral valley of the upper Plym, may\nbe seen traces of the original coverlet of slate, much altered by\nheat.\n\nThe granite looks as though stratified, but this is deceptive. It is\nso unequally mixed that some flakes or layers are harder and more\nresistant to atmospheric forces than are others, and where the\ngranite is soft it gives way, presenting a laminated appearance.\nMoreover, the granite is full of joints. Where these joints are\nvertical and numerous, there the rocky masses break into fragments.\nBellever Tor is a good instance. This imposing mass looks as though,\nwhen rising out of the Flood, it had shaken itself, like a poodle,\nto dry itself, and in so doing had shaken itself to bits. Lustleigh\nCleave is another instance. Every tor is surrounded by a \"clitter\"\n(Welsh _clechir_), and these clitters are due to the disintegration\nof the granite in horizontal beds, and then on account of their\njoints horizontal and diagonal, falling into confused heaps. Where\nthe joints are not numerous and not close together, there the\nrocks cohere and form tors. In many, as Vixen Tor and Mis Tor, the\npseudo-bedding lines are very distinct. Where the soft beds are\ninfrequent, there the granite forms great cake-like blocks as in\nHey Tor. The tors are, in fact, the more solid cores as yet not\noverthrown by natural agencies. Such a core is Bowerman's Nose, and\naround it is the \"clitter\" of rock that once encased it.\n\nGranite is very pervious to water, as everyone knows who lives in a\nhouse built of it by modern architect and masons.\n\nThe ancients were not such fools as we take them to have been. They\ndid condescend to consider the capabilities and the disadvantages\nof their building material before employing it. The \"old men,\"\nwhen they constructed a wall of granite, always gave it two faces,\nand filled in with rubble between. By this means the rain did\nnot drive through, although they did not employ mortar; and the\nancient tenement houses on the moor are dry as snuff. But the modern\narchitect insists on having the walls built throughout with lime,\nin courses, and the rain enters by these as by aqueducts. Then,\nto remedy the evil, the whole face of the house is tarred over or\ncemented, with what result to the prospect may well be conceived.\nThe granite, though pervious, is so to a very limited extent when\ncompared with limestone, and through a granite country there are\nno springs that issue from subterranean reservoirs. All the rain\nthat falls on the surface runs off superficially, but not all at\nonce, for on the granite lie enormous beds of peat, the growth and\ndecomposition of moor plants through vast ages. These beds of peat\nare like sponges; they absorb the rain, retain it, and slowly give\nit up during the summer. In limestone districts the making of a\nriver goes on within the bowels of the mountain, but in a granite\ndistrict it takes place on its outside. Remove the beds of turf\nand peat, and there will be torrents after a shower, and then dry\ntorrent beds.\n\nTo north and south of the equator of the moor lie vast tracts of bog\nin which the rivers are nursed, and without which they could not be.\nNo visitor can realise what Dartmoor really is in the economy of\nnature as the mother of the Devonshire rivers till he has visited\neither Cranmere Pool, or the ridge on the south, where are the meres\nfrom which spring the Avon, the Erme, the Yealm, and the Plym.\n\nThe granite being of unequal hardness, its constituent crystals\nbecome separated by the action of the weather into an incoherent\ngravel, which in Cornwall is called growan. The process may be seen\nin full activity on any tor. Sometimes water lodges on a slab, and\nfinding a soft spot begins to decompose it; then, when this is the\ncase, the wind swirls the water about, and with it the grit is spun\nround and round, and this continues the work of disintegration, and\nfinally a rock basin is produced.\n\nOf these rock basins some fine samples exist: that on Caistor Rock\nhas had to be railed round, to prevent sheep from falling in and\nbeing drowned. Mis Tor has another, the Devil's Frying-pan. There\nare plenty of them to be seen in all conditions, from the rude\nbeginning to the complete bowl.\n\nAt one time it was supposed that they were Druidical vessels\nemployed for lustration, and arch\u00e6ologists talked long and learnedly\nconcerning them. But what is quite certain is that they were\nproduced by Nature unassisted.\n\nWhen a hard bed of granite lies on one that is very soft, the latter\nbecomes disintegrated and eaten completely away. The hard bed is\nleft either balanced on one point or more, or else has its centre\nof gravity so placed as to precipitate it from its position. Plenty\nof rocks may be seen in all these conditions. If it should chance\nthat a rock remains poised on one point, then possibly a little\npressure at one end of the slab will set it in motion. This, then,\nis known as a logan, or rocking stone, which antiquaries of old\npronounced to have been employed by the Druids as oracles, or for\npurpose of divination. All this was bred out of the phantasy of the\nantiquaries. There is absolutely not a particle of evidence to show\nthat they were supposed to be mysterious, or were employed in any\nrites, and it is also absolutely certain that they were formed by\nthe hand of Nature alone.\n\nThere are many logan rocks on Dartmoor. One is on Black Tor, near\nPrincetown. It is instructive, as it not only shows the process of\nweathering which made it what it is, but it has on top of it a rock\nbasin that decants by a lip over the edge of the stone when the\nlatter is made to vibrate.\n\nThe \"Nutcracker\" stone near Amicombe Hill above the West Ockment\nrolls in a high wind like a boat that is anchored. There were two\nvery fine logans on Staple Tor above Merivale Bridge, but quarrymen\nwantonly destroyed the whole of one of the steeples, together with\nthe finest logan on Dartmoor that was on it. The other remains. On\nRippon Tor is one, another in Lustleigh Cleave.\n\nThe felspar dissolved by the rain was carried away, and has been\ndeposited in many places, filling up an ancient lake-bed and forming\nBovey Heathfield, coating plains and hills with a deposit white\nas snow; this is kaolin, and is worked as china clay at Lee Moor\nand in Shaugh. The water flowing from the works is like milk, and,\ncuriously enough, cows relish it.\n\nHaving got rid of the rock basins and logan stones as\npseudo-antiques, we will now address ourselves to those which are\ngenuine.\n\n[Illustration: RIPPON TOR, LOGAN STONE]\n\nSuch are the menhir, the kistvaen, the so-called \"sacred\" circle,\nthe stone rows, the hut circles, barrows, and cairns. All these\nabound on Dartmoor. Nowhere else in England can be seen such an\nextent of land undisturbed by cultivation, and carrying on its\nsurface so many hoary monuments of a prehistoric population. It\nmay be premised that all kinds of theories have been floated as to\ntheir purport and as to the period to which these relics belong,\nand the loudest and most positive have always been those who had no\nexperience with spade and pick, which can alone solve the problem\nof their object and age. Systematic and persistent investigation\ninto these monumental remains has been carried on for six years by a\ncommittee acting under the authority of the Devonshire Association\nfor the Advancement of Science, Literature, and Art, and five\nreports of their proceedings have been already published in the\n_Transactions_ of the Association.\n\nIt may be said that, at all events with regard to the hut circles,\ntheir position in the order of civilisation has been made out almost\nto a certainty, for something like a hundred and fifty of these have\nbeen carefully examined. With these accordingly we will begin.\n\nThey are strewn in thousands over the surface of the moor, and\nsuch as remain are but the merest fraction of those that must have\nexisted formerly, for incalculable numbers have been destroyed by\nthose who have made enclosures.\n\nThe hut circle is all that remains of the primitive dwelling of\na people that were pastoral, and were clothed mainly, though not\nexclusively, in skins.\n\nThe foundations of the circular dwellings are formed of blocks of\ngranite, sometimes set vertically and sometimes placed in horizontal\nlayers, enclosing a space from eight to thirty feet in diameter. The\nroof rested on the circular wall, which was never over four feet\nhigh, and was doubtless of wood covered with rushes, heather, or\nskins; a low doorway facing south or south-west gave access to the\ninterior; and a hole in the apex of the roof served as chimney. The\nthorough exploration of the floors of these huts has resulted in\nthe discovery of fireplaces, cooking-holes, and raised platforms of\nstones forming seats by day and beds at night, not so uncomfortable\nas it sounds, when covered with rushes and dry fragrant heather.\n\nThat the inmates played games is probable, from the number of small\nrounded quartz pebbles found that may have served for a game.\nCooking-pots rudely made by hand of coarse earthenware, imperfectly\nbaked, have been found, standing in the cooking-holes made in the\nfloor, with the \"cooking-stones\" in and around them. These are\nriver pebbles of dense, hard granite, which were placed in a fire\nand heated to such a pitch that dropped into the pot containing\nwater they brought it to the boiling-point, and maintained it, by\nfresh additions, until the cooking operation was complete. These\npots were fragile, and like modern crockery ware got broken; in\none prehistoric cooking-vessel it took the form of a fracture\nin the bottom--perhaps due to the careless dropping in of the\ncooking-stones by some inexperienced or impatient cook--but\nsomebody was equal to the occasion, for the bottom was neatly\nmended with china clay. These vessels, or as much as stood in view\nabove the floor of the hut, were usually ornamented with patterns of\nthe herring-bone type, or merely with dots and lines conveying no\nidea of consecutive pattern. Their interiors are much blackened with\ncooking, and imprisoned in the shreds there may yet be found, by the\nexpert analyst, oily globules, remains of prehistoric fat from beef\nand mutton. Cooking was performed in holes in the ground as well\nas in pots, just as modern savages cook at the present time. Hot\nstones in a pit, green grass, meat, more hot stones, and the whole\nturfed in, and you have a result which an epicure would relish. Some\npatience is necessary, perhaps twenty hours for a whole pig.\n\nThere is a curious passage in the life of S. Lugid, of Clonfert, who\ndied at the beginning of the seventh century. When a youth he served\nin the monastery, and as his biographer says, at that time it was\ncustomary to warm water by dropping into the vessel a ball of iron\nthat had previously been heated in the fire. Lugid had to put such\na ball into the drinking-vessel of the abbot, S. Coemgall, and he\ntook it out of the fire with a pair of tongs, but Coemgall for some\nreason drew his hand back, and the ball fell on the table instead\nof into his cup, and it was so hot that it burnt a hole through the\nboard.\n\nMost of the cooking-pots found in the Dartmoor hut circles have\nrounded bottoms, and are of too poor a paste to resist the direct\naction of the fire. An example of one such, removed from the hole\nin which it was, is preserved in the Plymouth Municipal Museum.\n\nOne cooking-pot was found with a cross at the bottom of thicker\nclay, the object being to strengthen it, as experience showed that\nthese pots always yielded first at the bottom. Some of the largest\nhut circles, those presumedly used in summer, had their kitchens\nseparate from them, smaller huts, where the floors have been found\nthick with charcoal and fragments of this wretched fragile pottery.\n\nThe larger huts had their roofs supported by a central pole, and\nthe socket-hole in which it stood has been found in some of them.\nIn many huts also a flat, smooth stone bedded in the floor has been\nnoticed, presumedly employed as a block on which to chop wood or\nfashion bone implements.\n\nIt is remarkable that one specimen only of a spindle-whorl has been\ndiscovered. No metal objects have so far been found in the Dartmoor\nhut circles. Implements of flint, sandstone, and granite abound;\nthey are mostly scrapers, borers, knives, and rubbing or smoothing\ntools; a few arrow-heads have turned up, but these are mostly\noutside the huts, probably shot away in hunting.\n\nThe examination of the graves discloses the same kind of pottery,\nbut with better finish and more elaborate ornamentation. Implements\nof stone and some bronze objects were yielded by the graves, and\nthe evidence of the exploration of the Dartmoor remains has thus\nfar connected them with the period of culture known as the late\nNeolithic and Early Bronze Age, which means that the folk were\nstill using stone for their tools and weapons, but were just\nbeginning to employ bronze, an alloy of copper and tin. It is not\nsurprising that bronze has not hitherto been found in the dwellings;\nit was far too valuable to be left about in such a manner as to be\nlost, and no surprise need be expressed that it has been discovered\nin sepulchral monuments appertaining to the same people, for nothing\nwas too good as an offering for the use of the dead in the happy\nhunting-grounds above.\n\n[Illustration: BROADUN POUNDS]\n\nThat at least some of these huts belonged to \"medicine men\" is\nprobable, from the finding in them of large, clear quartz crystals,\nsuch as are employed by several savage races as mediums for\nconjuring spirits.\n\nSome of the hut circles are enclosed within \"pounds.\" Many examples\nexist. The most noteworthy is Grimspound. The circumference of the\nwall measures 1500 feet, and it includes within it twenty-four hut\ncircles. The wall is double, with small openings as doors into the\nspace between, two of which are perfect; but for what purpose the\ninterspace between the walls was left is most uncertain. It can\nhardly have been filled in with earth or rubble, as no traces of\nsuch filling remain. The entrance to the pound is in a very perfect\ncondition. There is a hut circle outside the enclosing wall, just as\nin the prehistoric forts of Ireland.\n\nA curious passage may be quoted from the gloss to the Law of\nAdamnan, which shows how women were treated among the early races.\n\nIn the hovels, very similar to our hut circles, a hole was dug in\nthe floor from the door to the hearth about three feet deep. In\nthis, in a condition of stark nudity, the women spent the day, and\nthe object of the hole was partly decency and partly to keep the\nwomen in their places, so that--without joking--they were not on\nthe same level as man. They did all the cooking, turning the spits.\nThey made candles of fat, four hands'-breadth long. These they were\nrequired to hold aloft whilst the men ate and drank. At night the\nwomen were put to sleep in bothies like dog-kennels, _outside_ the\nenclosure, so as to keep guard over their lords and masters, like\nwatch-dogs.\n\nIn Wales, Iltyd the knight sent his wife out stark naked in a bitter\nwind to collect the horses and drive them into pound, whilst he lay\ncuddled up in the blankets.\n\nVerily men had the upper hand then. _Nous avons chang\u00e9 tout cela._\n\nNear Post Bridge were numerous pounds containing hut circles; most\nhave been destroyed--one only remains intact, at Broadun. Adjoining\nit was another, much larger; there the enclosing wall has been\ndestroyed, but not all the hut circles. At Archerton a plantation of\nfirs has been made within one of these enclosures, of course to the\ndestruction of the monuments it contained.\n\nWhat we learn from the hut circles on Dartmoor is that they were\nbuilt and occupied by a people who, though they knew bronze, held it\nin high value, as we do gold.\n\n[Illustration:\n\n  PLAN OF KIST\n  SHEWING POSITION OF URN\n  SCALE 2 FEET TO 1 INCH\n\n  COVER STONE\n\n  SECTION\n\n  SECTION OF BARROW\n  SCALE 4 F^T to 1 I^N\n\n  PLAN OF BARROW\n  SCALE 8 F^T to 1 I^N ]\n\nII. Of the characteristic dolmen, which we in England call cromlech,\nwe have but a single good example, that at Drewsteignton. Cornwall\npossesses numerous and fine specimens; they abound in Wales and in\nIreland. But although we have one only remaining, it can hardly\nbe doubted that formerly there were others, wherever the name of\nShillstone (Shelfstone) remains, as near Modbury, and in Bridestowe.\n\nThe dolmen belonged to the period before bodies were burnt; it was\nthe family or tribal ossuary. As it became crowded with skeletons,\nthe earliest were unceremoniously thrust back to the rear, to make\nroom for the last comers. The _all\u00e9e couverte_ in France, and the\nchambered barrows of Denmark, North Germany, Scotland, Ireland, and\nEngland, are but extensions of the dolmen to hold a larger number of\nthe dead. The dolmens usually have a hole at one end, or a footstone\nthat is removable at will, to allow for food to be passed in to the\ndead, and for the introduction of fresh applicants for house-room in\nthe mansion of the departed.\n\nSome of these holed dolmens have the stone plugs for closing the\nholes still extant. On Dartmoor in the kistvaens a small stone at\nfoot or side was placed, to be removed at pleasure.\n\nIII. The kistvaen, or stone chest, is a modification of the dolmen,\nand is usually of a later date; when incineration was become\ncustomary, the need for such enormous mortuary chapels, or tombs,\nas the dolmens and _all\u00e9es couvertes_ ceased. The dead could be\npacked into a much smaller space when reduced to a handful of ash.\nNevertheless, it is probable that some kistvaens belong to the\nperiod of carnal interment, and were erected for the reception of\nsingle bodies, which for some reason or other could not be conveyed\nto the family mausoleum. In Derbyshire carnal interment is found in\ncists, which are miniature dolmens, or kistvaens, sometimes standing\nalone, sometimes congregated together like cells of a honeycomb,\neach containing its crouched skeleton. On Dartmoor we have hundreds\nof kistvaens. Most have been rifled, but such as have been explored\nshow that they belonged to the same people and period as those who\noccupied the hut circles.\n\nIn the fine kistvaen at Merivale Bridge, plundered and mutilated\nthough it had been, a flint knife and a polishing stone were found;\nand flint flakes have been picked out of the ploughed soil round\nthe Drewsteignton cromlech. At King's Oven is a ruined circle\nsurrounding a demolished kistvaen, of which, however, some of the\nstones remain. A flint scraper was found wedged between two of the\nencircling stones. Some fine specimens are to be seen near Post\nBridge.\n\nIV. The stone circle is called by the French a cromlech. The purport\nof this is conjectural. Undoubtedly interments have been found\nwithin them, but none, so far, in those on Dartmoor. In the great\ncircle on Penmaen-mawr there were interments at the foot of several\nof the monoliths, and, indeed, one of these served as the backstone\nof a kistvaen. Stone uprights surround many cairns, in the midst of\nwhich is a kistvaen; but such circles as the Grey Wethers,\nScaur Hill, and that on Langstone Moor, never enclosed cairns\nor kistvaens, and must have had some other purpose. Among\nsemi-barbarous tribes it is customary that the tribe and the clan\nshall have their places of assembly and consultation, and these are\nmarked round by either stones or posts set up in the ground. Among\nsome of these tribes, if one of the constituent clans fails to send\nits representative, the stone set up where he should sit is thrown\ndown. It is possible that the circles of upright stones on Dartmoor,\nnot connected with cairns, may have served such a purpose. They are\nusually placed on the neck of land between two rivers. There are on\nDartmoor about a dozen.\n\n[Illustration: LAKEHEAD, KISTVAEN]\n\nV. The stone row is almost invariably associated with cairns and\nkistvaens, and clearly had some relation to funeral rites. The\nstone settings are often single, sometimes double, or are as many\nas eight. They do not always run parallel; they start from a cairn\nand end with a blocking-stone set across the line. In Scotland\nthey are confined to Caithness. The finest known are at Carnac\nin Brittany. It is probable that just as a Bedouin now erects a\nstone near a fakir's tomb as a token of respect, so each of these\nrude blocks was set up by a member of a tribe, or a household, in\nhonour of the chief buried in the cairn at the head of the row. It\nis remarkable how greatly the set stones vary in size; some are\nquite insignificant, and could be planted by a boy, while others\nrequire the united efforts of three or four men, with modern\nappliances of three legs and block to lift and place them. Usually\nthe largest stones are planted near the cairn, and they dwindle\nto the blocking-stone, which is of respectable size. There is no\nknown district so rich as Dartmoor in stone rows. The number of\nthese still remaining in a more or less dilapidated condition is\nsurprising. Some five-and-twenty have been counted, and quantities\nmust have been destroyed, and these the very finest examples, as\nthe big upright stones lent themselves readily to be converted into\ngate-posts. Indeed of those that have been allowed to remain many\nhave lost their largest stones.\n\nThe most important stone row is that on Stall Moor, a single range,\nthat can be discerned even from Cornwood Station, and looks like a\nnumber of cricketers in flannels stalking over the brow of the hill.\nA fine one is on Down Tor; here the largest stones had been thrown\ndown for the sake of removing them for gate-posts, and the marks of\nthe levers were visible. Happily the Dartmoor Preservation Society\ninterfered and re-erected the stones which had been cast down. At\nDrizzlecombe are three sets of stone rows leading from tall menhirs.\nThe stone avenue that led from the Longstone, near Caistor Rock for\nover a mile, was wantonly destroyed by a farmer a few years ago,\nwhen building a new-take wall hard by. A good example is on the\nbrow of the hill opposite Grimspound, but the stones are not large.\nThe Merivale Bridge remains consist of two sets of double rows,\nthe stones very small, but the rows fairly intact. But the most\nremarkable row of all is that near the Erme Valley, which, starting\nfrom a great circle of upright stones, extends for two miles and\na quarter, descending a dip and crossing a stream to mount the\nopposite hill.\n\nVI. The menhir, or tall stone, is a rude, unwrought obelisk. In some\ncases it is nothing other than the blocking-stone of a row which has\nbeen destroyed. But such is not always the case. There were no rows\nin connection with the menhir at Devil's Tor and the Whitmoor Stone.\n\nThat the upright stone is a memorial to the dead can hardly be\ndoubted; it was continued to be erected, with an inscription,\nin Brito-Roman days, and its modern representative is in every\nchurchyard. The menhirs, locally termed longstones, or langstones,\nmust at one time have been numerous. Those round the moor have been\ncarried away to serve as window-sills, door-jambs, even church\npillars. Several places and moors, by their names, assure us that at\none time these monuments were there.\n\nMenhirs are still erected by the dolmen builders on the\nBrama-pootra, the Khassias, and always in commemoration of the\ndead. The Chinese hold that the spirits of the deceased inhabit\nthe memorials set up in their honour; and the carved monoliths in\nAbyssinia, erected by the same race when it passed from Arabia to\nAfrica, have carved in their faces little doors for the ingress and\negress of the spirits. Holed menhirs are found in many places.\n\nThere are several menhirs on Dartmoor, as the Beardown Man (_Maen_,\nstone), near Devil Tor, in a wild and desolate spot far from the\nhaunts of man; the highest is at Drizzlecombe, height eighteen\nfeet, and weighing six tons.\n\nIt may well be doubted whether in any part of England such a\ncomplete series of remains of a vanished population exists as on\nDartmoor, where we have their houses and their tombs. But the\nmonuments are not of great size.\n\nVII. Cairns on Dartmoor are numerous, but all the large ones have\nbeen opened and robbed at some unknown period. They would not\nhave been dug into at the cost of time and labour unless they had\nrendered results of value. One ruined cairn with a kistvaen in it\nis still called \"The Crock of Gold,\" but probably bronze was the\nmetal chiefly found. A cairn opened on Hameldon yielded a bronze\nknife with an amber handle with pins of gold. A cairn at Fernworthy\ngave up an urn with a button of Kimmeridge coal, and a small bronze\nknife, together with another of flint. But the cairns were not\nalways raised over the bodies of the dead. Sometimes, perhaps, only\nover the head, which has long since disappeared; sometimes over the\nplace where the body was burnt, and sometimes as mere memorials.\n\nWhat makes ancient Irish usage so valuable is that there we have\ntraditional pagan customs recorded, and after Christianity was\nadopted the ancient usages were but slightly modified. I will quote\na passage from Professor Sulivan that explains the various methods\nof interment. And it must be borne in mind that in Ireland the Celt\nwas superposed on the Ivernian just as in Devon and Cornwall, and\nthat in both the dominant race largely adopted the religious views\nand customs of the subjugated people.\n\n[Illustration: URN FROM KISTVAEN]\n\n     \"From the ancient laws and other sources we have direct evidence\n     that the ritual of the dead varied with the rank, sex, and\n     occupation of the deceased, and that it was more splendid and\n     elaborate in the case of great men.\"[19]\n\n  [19] Introduction to O'CURRY, _Manners and Customs of the Ancient\n  Irish_, 1873, i., p. cccxxix.\n\nThe various kinds of monument were the _Derc_, the _Fert_, the\n_Leacht_, the _Duma_, the _Cnoc_, and the _Carn_.\n\nThe _Derc_ was a hollow, a pit, or hole, dug in the ground; in fact,\na simple grave.\n\nThe _Fert_ was a rectangular chamber, composed of stones set\nupright, and covered horizontally with flags; in a word, a kistvaen.\n\nThe _Leacht_ seems to have been a larger-sized kistvaen, a cromlech\nor dolmen, but a single upright stone was also called a leacht. When\na number of persons were buried in a single mound, then a stone was\nset up in commemoration of each round the tumulus or cairn. A good\nspecimen may be seen beside the road to Widecombe from Post Bridge.\nThe cairn has been almost levelled, but the ring of stones remains.\n\nThe _Cnoc_ was a rounded, sugar-loaf mound of earth, and the _Duma_\nwas a similar mound raised over a kistvaen.\n\nThe _Cairn_ or _Carn_ was a mere pile of stones, generally made over\na grave, but sometimes having no immediate connection with one. Here\nis a curious passage which will explain why some cairns contain no\ninterments:--\n\n     \"The plunderers started from the coast, and each man took with\n     him a stone to make a carn, for such was the custom of the Fians\n     when going to plunder or war. It was a pillar-stone they planted\n     when going to give a general battle; and it was a cairn they\n     made this time, because it was a plundering expedition.... Every\n     man who survived used to remove his stone from the cairn, and\n     the stones of those who were slain remained in place, and thus\n     they were able to ascertain their losses.\"--_The Book of the Dun\n     Cow._\n\nSometimes, after a battle, when it was not possible to carry away a\nbody, the head of the man who had fallen was buried by his friends\nunder a cairn, because the ancient Irish were wont to carry off\nheads as trophies; but to violate a cairn, even when raised by a\nfoe, was regarded as sacrilege.\n\nOn Dartmoor, in addition to prehistoric antiquities, numerous rude\nstone crosses remain; some of these, if not all, indicate ways, and\nwere employed as landmarks. Only one bears an inscription, \"Crux\nSiwardi.\"\n\nThe whole of the moor, in the stream bottoms, is seamed with\nstreamers' \"burrows\" and deep workings. It is not possible to fix\ntheir date. Throughout the Middle Ages stream tin was extracted from\nDartmoor. Fresh activity was shown in the reign of Elizabeth. Beside\nthe mounds may be seen the ruins of the old \"blow-house,\" where the\ntin was smelted, and very probably among the ruins will be found the\nmoulds into which the tin was run. I postpone what I have to say on\nthe tin-working to a chapter on that topic in the ensuing portion of\nmy book, on Cornwall.\n\n     Books on Dartmoor:--\n\n     ROWE (S.), _Perambulation of Dartmoor_ (new ed.). Exeter, 1896.\n     A caution must be given that the original work was written in\n     1848, when arch\u00e6ology was a matter of theorising, and when\n     Druids and Ph\u0153nicians cut great figures. In reading Rowe's book\n     the reader must pass over all this.\n\n     CROSSING (W.), _Amid Devonia's Alps_. London and Plymouth, 1888.\n     A pleasantly written little book, and free from the arrant\n     nonsense of pseudo-antiquarians of fifty years ago, cooked up\n     afresh.\n\n     PAGE (J. L. W.), _An Exploration of Dartmoor_. London, 1889. All\n     the arch\u00e6ologic lore in this book must be rejected. Otherwise it\n     is good.\n\n     CRESSWELL (B. F.), _Dartmoor and its Surroundings_. London,\n     1898. A handy 6d. guide, very useful, and commendably free from\n     false theorising on antiquarian topics.\n\n     SPENCER (E.), _Dartmoor_. Plymouth, 1894. A fresh and pleasant\n     book, trustworthy as to the geology, but wildly erroneous as to\n     the antiquities.\n\n     For the Arch\u00e6ology:--\n\n     Reports of the Dartmoor Exploration Committee of the Devonshire\n     Association, 1894-9.\n\n     For the History of the moor:--\n\n     Reports and publications of the Dartmoor Preservation Society.\n\n     For the Crosses:--\n\n     CROSSING (W.), _The Ancient Crosses of Dartmoor_. Exeter, 1887.\n\n     CROSSING (W.), _The Old Stone Crosses of the Dartmoor Border_.\n     Exeter, 1892.\n\n     For the Churches on the borders of Dartmoor:--\n\n     Chapter xix. of ROWE'S _Perambulation_, new edition.\n\n     For the Flora and Fauna of the moor:--\n\n     Chapters xiv.-xvii. of the same.\n\n     For the Geology of Dartmoor:--\n\n     USSHER (W. A. G.), \"The Granite of Dartmoor,\" in _Transactions\n     of the Devonshire Association_, 1888.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nDARTMOOR: ITS TENANTS\n\n     Forest rights exercised by the Duchy--Rights of the parishes of\n     Devon to Dartmoor--Encroachments--Venville--Newtakes--Importance\n     of the moor as common land--The four quarters--Drifts--A\n     moorman's house--Vipers in the walls--Crockern Tor and Mr.\n     Fowler--The \"Wish Hounds\"--The pixies--How an Ordnance surveyor\n     was pixy-led--The moor in fog--Story of a pixy birth--Joe\n     Leaman and the pixies--Notice on church gate--The boys and\n     the plaster figures--The witch of Endor--Those born on the\n     moor do not like to leave it--Freshets on Dartmoor rivers--The\n     Dart--Ancient tenements--The Prisons--Story of an attempted\n     escape--A successful escape--Cost to the country of the criminal\n     class--Some effort should be made to prevent crime--Believer\n     Day--Trout-fishing--Dartmoor in winter--The song of the moor.\n\n\nDartmoor consists of moorland running up to heights of over 2000\nfeet, a great deal of the area being enclosed, forming rough grazing\nfarms, but much of it remains to-day what it was thousands of years\nago, boulder-strewn ravines, through which rush impetuous streams,\nrocky heights crowned with huge blocks of granite, so weather-worn\nand piled up as to suggest to the stranger that some Titans had\nso placed them to serve as castles or to add a romantic touch to\nalready wild scenery. Great sweeps of heather and furze-clad downs\nrun up to these elevations, and on many of these the rude stone\nmonuments lie scattered about in all directions.\n\n[Illustration: VIXEN TOR]\n\nThe forest of Dartmoor became the property of the Princes of Wales\nonly so far that forest rights were granted to the Black Prince and\nto the Princes of Wales for ever, without prejudice to such rights\nas had belonged from time immemorial to all Devonshire parishes with\nthe exception of Barnstaple and Totnes. And the rights of Devonshire\nparishes were to take off the moor whatever was wanted save venison\nand vert, that is to say, not to cut down green trees. As of trees\nthere are none, or hardly any, this exception could not be very\ngreatly felt as a grievance, and as now there are no deer, one might\nhave supposed that Devonshire people could exercise an unlimited\nright over Dartmoor. Such, however, is not the case. The Duchy of\nCornwall, vested in the Princes of Wales, has claimed and exercised\nthe power to cut away and reject the rights of every parish except\nsuch as are immediately contiguous to the moor, and to enclose and\nto shut out the good people of Devon from large tracts, one of\nwhich is made over to the convicts, another to the artillery, to\nfire across at long range. The tors also are given up to be hacked\nand quarried; and ponies and bullocks that have found their way on\nto the moors and do not belong to \"Venville\" parishes (that is to\nsay, such as are contiguous to the forest) are pounded, and their\nowners fined for trespass. Thus the grant of forest rights, _i.e._,\nrights to hunt the red deer, have been converted to very exclusive\nrights to everything, and the Devonians, whose right was recognised\nto everything save venison and vert, has been reduced to nothing\nat all. But just as the Duchy encroached on the rights of all the\ngood people of Devon, so was it also encroached upon. Before that\nthe grant of forest rights was made to the Black Prince there were\ncertain ancient tenements on the moor; those occupying them held\nunder the king, and were absolutely independent otherwise. But\nthese tenants had certain traditional rights, which they could put\nin force once only in their lives--on the death of the last holder\nthe incomer might enclose ten acres of moor land, and hold it at a\nnominal rent. Thus these ancient tenements gradually expanded. But\nbesides this the holders made larger enclosures, locally termed\n\"new-takes,\" when the fancy came to them to do so, and they settled\nmatters easily with the Duchy agents, to the advantage of both.\nLarge landed proprietors managed to get slices by a little greasing\nof palms, and some very odd transactions took place whereby great\ntracts of land, and even farms, were transferred from the Duchy to\nother hands without the Princes of Wales being in any way benefited,\nor being aware that they were being robbed. But then--as the Duchy\nhad taken from the people--had not such of the people as could\ncontrive it a right to take back what they could?\n\nAll this is now so far a matter of the past that the Duchy is no\nlonger robbed, it robs instead--curtailing on all sides the rights\nof those living in the low steamy lands to the pure air and wide\nwastes of that great well-head of health and life--the ancient\nForest of Dartmoor.\n\nDuring the abnormally dry summers of 1893 and 1897 Dartmoor proved\nof incalculable advantage not to the County of Devon only, but\nfar further afield. When grass was burnt up everywhere, and water\nfailed, then the moor was green, and was twinkling with dancing\nstreams. From every quarter the starving cattle were driven there in\nthousands and tens of thousands. Drovers came from so far east as\nKent, there to obtain food and drink unobtainable elsewhere.\n\nThousands and tens of thousands more might have been sustained there\nbut for the enclosures that have been suffered to be made--nay, have\nbeen encouraged.\n\nDartmoor is divided into four regions, and over each region a\nmoorman is placed. In every quarter of the moor a special earmark is\nrequired for the ponies that are turned out, a round hole punched\nin the ear, through which is passed a piece of distinguishing tape,\nred or blue, white or black. The ponies are much given to rambling;\nthey pass from one quarter to another in search of pasture; but\nthe moorman of each quarter can recognise those turned out on his\nregion by the earmark. Sheep also and bullocks are turned out on the\nmoor; but they have to be cared for at home in the winter, whereas\nthe ponies brave the storms and snow. The flocks and herds are\nnot driven on to the moor till summer, and are driven off at the\napproach of winter.\n\nAlthough every farmer round has a right to turn out his beasts,\nyet the moorman expects a fee for each horse, bullock, or sheep\nsent out on the downs. Cattle, horses, and sheep sent upon the\ncommon lands that adjoin the forest are liable to stray on to the\nbroader expanse, and in order to detect these and exact a fine for\nthem certain drivings are ordered, locally called \"drifts.\" The\nday when a drift is to take place is kept a profound secret till\nit is proclaimed early in the morning. Then a messenger on a fleet\nhorse is sent round very early to announce it. On certain tors are\nholed stones, and through these horns were formerly passed and\nblown on such occasions. There are drifts for ponies, and drifts\nfor bullocks. A drift is an animated and striking scene. Horsemen\nand dogs are out, the farmers identifying their cattle, the drivers\nand dogs sending the frightened beasts plunging, galloping in one\ndirection towards the place of gathering. When all the beasts have\nbeen driven together, an officer of the Duchy mounts a stone and\nreads a formal document that is supposed to authorise the moormen to\nmake their claim for fees. Then the Venville tenants carry off their\ncattle without objection. All others are pounded, or else their\nowners pay fines before being allowed to reclaim them.\n\nNow and then the Duchy endeavours to extend its right over the\ncommons belonging to contiguous parishes. Nothing is lost by\nasserting a right, and something may be gained. But when a drift\nis carried over such commons the farmers of the parishes rise up\nand repel the moormen, and battles with clubs and horsewhips ensue.\nBlows are given and returned; it is felt, and felt rightly, that\nencroachment must be resisted at all cost, lest it should serve as\na stepping-stone for deprivation of further rights.\n\nAn old moorman's house was a picturesque object: built up centuries\nago of granite blocks unshaped, set in earth, with no lime or cement\nto fix them, low-browed, with the roof thatched with rushes, the\nwindows small, looking into a small court-yard, and this court-yard\nentered through a door in a high blank wall. On one side the turf\nstacked up, the saddles, the harness; on the other, a cow-house\nand stable, the well-house accessible from the kitchen without\ngoing from under cover, the well being nothing other than a limpid\nmoor stream diverted and made to flow into a basin of scooped-out\ngranite. The door into the house gives admission into an outer\nchamber, where is every description of odds and ends; where are\npotatoes, old barrels, infirm cartwheels, and the poultry hopping\nover everything. On one side a door gives admission to the kitchen,\nhall, parlour, all in one, lighted by a small window looking into\nthe court-yard. Or, again, on the one hand is the cattle-shed, on\nthe other the kitchen, all under one roof, and beyond the kitchen\nthe common sleeping-chamber. Rarely is there an upper storey. The\nobject of making these ancient houses so totally enclosed was to\nprotect the dwelling from the furious storms. They were castles, but\nwalled up against no other enemy than the wild weather. Nowadays\nthese ancient houses are rapidly disappearing, and new, vulgar,\nstaring edifices are taking their places--edifices that let in wind\nand water at every joint and loophole.\n\nThe dry walls of these old tenements were snug places for vipers to\nshelter through the winter, and I have heard many an old moorman\nrelate how, when the peat fire was glowing and the room was warm, he\nhas seen the heads and glittering eyes of the \"long cripples\" shoot\nout from the crevices in the wall and sway, enjoying the warmth, but\ntoo sluggish to do more.\n\nOne told me that his dog was bitten by a viper, and its head was\nswollen shockingly. He at once got elder flowers, and put them in a\ncaldron to boil, and held the dog's head over the steam. It cured\nthe poor beast.\n\nMany years ago a Manchester man with plenty of money came down to\nDartmoor, and declared that it was a shame so much land should lie\nwaste; he would show what could be done with it. So he soon came\nto terms with the Duchy, which allowed him to enclose thousands of\nacres--which means exclude the public--and to set up machine-houses\nfor steam-engines to thrash, and for steam-ploughs to turn the soil,\nand so on. The whole not very far from Crockern Tor, the umbel, the\ncentre of the moor, the seat of the ancient stannary court, _sub\nDio_, under the open vault of heaven, on unhewn granite seats.\n\nOne day an old moorman met this new-fangled farmer, and said to him:\n\"How do 'y, Muster Vowler? I had a dream about y\u00fc last night.\"\n\n\"Did you, indeed? I am flattered.\"\n\n\"Hear what it is afore y\u00fc say that.\"\n\n\"Well, tell me.\"\n\n[Illustration: LOWER TARR]\n\n\"Well, Muster Vowler, I falled asleep, and then I saw the gurt old\nsperit of the moors, old Crockern himself, grey as granite, and his\neyebrows hanging down over his glimmering eyes like sedge, and his\neyes deep as peat water pools. Sez he to me, 'Do 'y know Muster\nVowler?' 'Well, sir,' sez I, 'I thinks I have that honour.' 'Then,'\nsez he in turn, 'Bear him a message from me. Tell Muster Vowler if\nhe scratches my back, I'll tear out his pocket.'\"\n\nAnd sure enough old Crockern did it. After a few years Dartmoor\nbeat the scientific farmer. He had tried to drain its bogs, it had\ndrained his purse. He had scratched its back, and it had torn out\nhis pocket.\n\nThere existed formerly a belief on Dartmoor that it was hunted over\nat night in storm by a black sportsman, with black fire-breathing\nhounds, called the \"Wish Hounds.\" They could be heard in full cry,\nand occasionally the blast of the hunter's horn on stormy nights.\n\nOne night a moorman was riding home from Widecombe. There had been a\nfair there; he had made money, and had taken something to keep out\nthe cold, for the night promised to be one of tempest. He started\non his homeward way. The moon shone out occasionally between the\nwhirling masses of thick vapour. The horse knew the way better\nperhaps than his master. The rider had traversed the great ridge\nof Hameldon, and was mounting a moor on which stands a circle of\nupright stones--reputedly a Druid circle, and said to dance on\nChristmas Eve--when he heard a sound that startled him--a horn, and\nthen past him swept without sound of footfall a pack of black dogs.\n\nThe moorman was not frightened--he had taken in too much Dutch\ncourage for that--and when a minute after the black hunter came up,\nhe shouted to him, \"Hey! huntsman, what sport? Give us some of your\ngame.\"\n\n\"Take that,\" answered the hunter, and flung him something which the\nman caught and held in his arm. Then the mysterious rider passed\non. An hour elapsed before the moorman reached his home. As he had\njogged on he had wondered what sort of game he had been given. It\nwas too large for a hare, too small for a deer. Provokingly, not\nonce since the encounter had the moon flashed forth. Now that he was\nat his door he swung himself from his horse, and still carrying the\ngame, shouted for a lantern.\n\nThe light was brought. With one hand the fellow took it, then raised\nit to throw a ray on that which he held in his arm--the game hunted\nand won by the Black Rider. It was his own baby, dead and cold.\nThis story was told by the blacksmith at Moreton Hampstead to G. P.\nBidder, the calculating boy, who as a lad was fond of playing about\nthe old man's forge. From one of Mr. Bidder's daughters I had the\ntale.\n\nIt would be unjustifiable to pass over the Pixies, or Pysgies as\nthey are generally termed, who are the little spirits supposed\nspecially to haunt Dartmoor, although indeed they leave their\ntraces, and perform their pranks elsewhere. To be \"pysgie-led\" is\nto go astray and become so bewildered as not to be able to find\nthe way at all. How entirely one may go wrong even with the best\nappliances, the following experience will show.\n\nOne morning, my friend Mr. R. Burnard, with one of the officers of\nthe Ordnance Survey, another gentleman and myself, started from the\nDuchy Hotel, Princetown, with the object of visiting an unregistered\nstone row on Conies Down Tor, which at our request the Survey was\nabout to include in their map. We started at 9.30 a.m., of course\nprovided with compasses and surveying apparatus. There was a bit of\nfog as we left the hotel door, but as we heard the larks singing\naloft we expected it to clear. Mr. Burnard and the officer got ahead\nof us, and disappeared in the mist before we had gone a hundred\nyards--and we saw them no more that day.\n\nBeyond the Prisons there is a short cut across the enclosures made\nby the convicts, into the main Tavistock and Moreton road; we took\nthat, and on reaching the road struck by Fitz's Well due north, or\nnearly so, for Black Dunghill (Blackadun-hill). Then I knew that\nby going due north we must strike the Lych Way, the track by which\ncorpses were formerly carried from the centre and east side of the\nmoor for interment at Lydford. This Lych Way is fairly well marked.\n\nThe mist became thicker; we walked on, hoping on reaching Conies\nDown Tor to find our friends there. But after a bit I got completely\nlost; we came on a dip or pan in which were sheep, but no stream;\nthat I could in no way account for, so we set our faces to the wind,\nwhich I knew when we started blew from the south, and about one\no'clock we reached Princetown again, drenched to the skin. But the\nOrdnance Survey officer and Mr. Burnard had taken another route,\nhad arrived at Mis Tor, and then by a swerve to the right along Mis\nTor pan--one ghastly, boggy tract to be avoided--essayed to strike\nthe Lych Way and reach Conies Down Tor. But in the mist they went\nso absolutely astray, notwithstanding their scientific appliances,\nthat when about one o'clock they reached a stream flowing north they\nsupposed that they had hit on the Ockment and would come out at\nOkehampton. Nor was it till a brawling stream came foaming down on\nthe right, and the river took a twist south-west, that it dawned on\nthem that they were on the Tavy. About five o'clock they reached,\nsopped as sponges and utterly fagged, a little tavern at Mary Tavy,\nwhere, in their prostration, they asked for a bottle of champagne.\nThe hostess stared. \"Plaize, surs, be he sum'ut to ate? Us hav'n't\ngot nort but eggs and a rasher.\"\n\nThat was a case of Pixy-leading out of pure mischief, to show how\nsuperior they were to all the last appliances of science.\n\nNow, when the way is lost, there is one thing to be done, if\npossible--aim at running water and follow the stream. It may lead\nyou out thirty miles from the spot you want to reach, but it will\neventually lead to a roof, and \"wittles and drink,\" and better\nstill--dry clothes.\n\nBut there is another way--to make two marks and pace between them\ntill the fog rises. This is how an old farmer's wife did, living at\nSheberton. She had been to Princetown to get some groceries. On her\nway back in the afternoon fog enveloped her, and she lost all sense\nof her direction. Well, she set down her basket with the groceries\non the turf, and planted her gingham umbrella at ten strides from\nit, and spent the night walking from one to the other, addressing\neach now and then, so as to keep up her spirits.\n\n_To the groceries_: \"Be yu lyin' comf'able there, my dears? Keep dry\nwhat iver yu d\u00fc, my b\u00fcties.\"\n\n_To the gingham_: \"Now old neighbour, tesn't folded yu like to be in\nthis sort o' weather. But us can't alwez have what us likes i' this\nwurld, and mebbe t'aint g\u00fcde us should.\"\n\n_To the groceries_: \"Now my purties, yu'll be better bym-by. Won't\nee, shuggar, whan you'm put into a nice warm cup o' tay? That'll be\ndifferent from this drashy, dirty vog, I reckon.\"\n\n_To the gingham_: \"Never mind. It's for rain you'm spread. It\nwould be demeanin' of yourself to stretch out all your boans agin'\ndrizzlin' mist, for sure.\"\n\nBy morning the vapour rose, and the old lady took her direction,\ncame cheerily home, and comforted herself with a sugared cup of tea,\nand spread the umbrella in the kitchen to \"dry hisself.\"\n\nBut to return to the Pysgies themselves.\n\nWhat I am now about to mention is a story I have received from Mr.\nT. W. Whiteway, brother of Sir William Whiteway; he was brought up\non the confines of the moor. The story is of the Fairies' ointment,\nas Nurse Warren told it.\n\n\"You have many times asked me to tell you about the Fairies'\nointment. Now I don't suppose you will believe me, but I have heard\nGranny say that a very long time ago there were Pixies scattered all\nover the country. The Pixies were good and kind to some people, but\nto others they would play all sorts of tricks. You must never spy on\na Pixy, for they would be sure to pay you out if you did. Now the\nstory I am going to tell you was told to me by my grandmother, who\ndied in her eighty-seventh year, and she heard it from her mother.\nSo this all happened before there was any King George. Granny used\nto say that she believed it was when there was a King Henry, who had\na number of wives.\n\n\"There was a wonderfully clever midwife, called Morada, who lived\na little way out of Holne village, close to Dartmoor. You know in\nthose days doctors were not so plentiful as they be now, nor so\nclever; so the people all around used to send for Nurse Morada.\nNow she was a widow woman and a foreigner. Folks did say she was a\nwitch, and a sight of money she got, for folks was afraid to offend\nher.\n\n\"One night just before harvest Nurse had gone to bed early, for it\nwas a dark, dismal evening, likely for a thunderstorm, and Nurse was\nmuch afraid of lightning.\n\n\"She had not been long asleep when she was awakened by such a\nclatter at the door as if it was being broken down, and it was\nthundering and lightning frightful. Nurse was greatly frightened,\nbut lay still, hoping the knocking would cease, but it only got\nworse and worse. At last she rose and opened the window, when she\nsaw by the lightning flashing, which almost blinded her, a little\nman sitting on a big horse, hammering at the door.\n\n\"'Come down, woman,' he said; 'my wife is ill, and wants you.'\n\n\"'Do you think I'm mad?' she called out. 'I would not go out for\nthe queen herself such a night as this,' and was going to shut the\nwindow.\n\n\"'Stop!' he cried out; 'will you come with me for ten golden\nguineas?'\n\n\"Now this was a sight of money in those days, and Nurse was very\ngreedy for money; so she told the man to wait, and she would be\ndressed as soon as possible.\n\n\"The man jumped down from his horse, and pointing to a shed said two\nwords in a foreign language, whereupon the horse cleverly walked in\nout of the rain. The man entered the house, and when Nurse saw him\nshe was that frightened she almost fainted away. He was not old at\nall, but a very handsome young man. He was small, to be sure, but he\nlooked a real little gentleman, with such beautiful fine clothes,\nand eyes that fairly looked through you. He laughed to see how\nfrightened the woman was.\n\n\"'Now listen to me,' he said in a voice as sweet as a thrush's, 'and\nbe sure that if you do what I tell you, and never speak of what\nyou may see or hear, no harm will happen to you, and I will give\nyou ten guineas now and ten more when you return home. If you keep\nyour promise all will be well, but if you do not I will punish you\nvery severely. Now to show you what power I have, I tell you that\nalthough you say that you are a widow and call yourself Morada, that\nis not your name, for you never were married. Shall I tell you some\nmore of your past life?'\n\n\"'No, sir, no!' she called out. 'I will do all that you tell me.'\n\n\"'That's right and sensible. Now the first thing I do is to\nblindfold you, and you must not try to take off the bandage from\nyour eyes. Take these ten guineas and put them away.'\n\n\"This the woman did, and hid them behind the mantelpiece. They both\nleft the house, the woman locking the door. He took the woman behind\nhim on the horse, and tied her with a strap round her waist. Away\nwent the horse like the wind across the moor; Nurse thought from the\ntime they took they must have gone pretty near as far as Lydford.\nWhen he got off from the horse he made sure that she had not moved\nthe handkerchief. Unlocking a door, he led her up through a long\npassage, and, unlocking another door, pulled her inside.\n\n\"'Now take off your handkerchief,' said he, and she found herself\nin a queer-looking place all lighted up with beautiful lamps. A\nlittle squint-eyed man came and said something the Nurse could not\nunderstand. The little gentleman then hurried off Nurse into another\nroom, where, lying on a beautiful velvet bed, was the prettiest\nlittle lady anybody ever did see.\n\n\"Well, before many hours there was a sweet little dot of a boy born.\nThen the gentleman brought the Nurse a box of ointment and told her\nto rub some over the baby's eyelids. When nurse had done so she put\nthe box in her pocket and forgot all about it. This got her into\ngreat trouble, as I 'll tell you about presently. Nurse stayed some\ndays with the little lady, and got to love her very much, she was\nthat kind and good. The little lady liked Nurse, and told her that\nshe herself was a princess; that her husband was a prince; that they\nlived in a beautiful country where there was no frost or snow, and\nthat they were fairies, not Pixies. Her father was the king of all\nthe fairies, and he was very angry because she ran away and married\nthe prince, who was not of so high a rank as she was, although he\nwas her cousin, and that to punish them he sent 'em both to Dartmoor\nfor a year. That time was now up, and they were all going home in a\nfew days.\n\n\"The fairy prince took Nurse to her home blindfolded on the big\nhorse, in the same way as he brought her there, and on parting gave\nher the other ten guineas as he had promised. The next morning\nNurse was in a great quandary when she found the box of ointment in\nher pocket. 'Well,' she thought, 'he will be sure to come for this\nointment, as they will all be going away to-morrow or the next day.'\n\n\"Nurse stayed up all that night, but the prince did not come, and\nthe next day and night passed without seeing him. Then Nurse felt\ncertain that they were all gone, and had forgotten the ointment,\nand she could scarcely eat, drink, or sleep for thinking what virtue\nthere might be in it.\n\n\"When the fourth night had passed without his coming Nurse could\nwait no longer, but opened the box and rubbed in a little of the\nointment on her left eye; but she only felt the eye prick and sting\na bit, so the woman thought the ointment must be only good for fairy\nbabies, and she went to bed quite satisfied.\n\n\"The next morning she thought she must have died and awakened up\nin another world. Everything about her looked as if it had grown\never so much. The cat, which always slept in her room, looked as\nlarge as a great dog. Then remembering the ointment, she covered\nher left eye, and all was as it used to be. The woman now got very\nfrightened, and started off after breakfast to go to Ashburton to\nconsult a friend of hers, a Mr. Stranger, who was very clever about\nherbs.\n\n\"As she walked along she would now and again cover up her right eye,\nand then everything would look so grand and beautiful; and looking\nup, she saw stars, although the sun was shining brightly, she could\nsee that wonderfully far off. Now, she had not gone very far when\nsuddenly the fairy prince, sitting on his horse, appeared before her.\n\n\"'Good morning, sir,' she said, dropping a curtsy.\n\n\"'Ah!' he cried, 'the ointment! Which eye do you see me with?'\n\n\"'The left, sir.'\n\n\"Instantly she felt something like a blow on that eye. The fairy\nprince vanished, and appeared again as the little man she had first\nseen.\n\n\"'Nurse,' said he, 'you are blinded in your left eye as a punishment\nfor having used the ointment. I am sorry, for you were kind to my\nwife. Here is a present she has sent you.'\n\n\"He then gave her ten guineas, and she returned him the box. He then\nvanished. This is all the story that Granny told me about the fairy\nointment.\"\n\nA farmer on the west side of Dartmoor, having had sickness among his\ncattle in 1879, sacrificed a sheep and burnt it on the moor above\nhis farm as an offering to the Pysgies. The cattle at once began\nto recover, and did well after, nor were there any fresh cases of\nsickness among them. He spoke of the matter as by no means anything\nto be ashamed of, or that was likely to cause surprise.\n\nThere can be little doubt that many of the Pixy stories, as well as\nthose of ghosts, have their origin in practical jokes.\n\nOld Joe Leaman, of Dartmeet, recently dead, had an experience with\nPysgies, as he supposed.\n\nOne day, having need of fuel, he went up the Dart to cut faggots of\nwood in the Brimpts plantation. Whether he had leave to do so, or\ntook it, is not recorded.\n\nHe went among the trees, cut a faggot, bound it, and carried it to\na place where he purposed making a pile, which he would carry home\nat his leisure. But he was observed by some young fellows, and after\nhe had deposited his faggot and had disappeared in the plantation,\nthey went to the spot, removed and concealed the faggot, and hid\nthemselves.\n\nPresently Joe came from out of the wood with a second faggot on his\nback. On reaching the place where the first had been placed, he set\ndown the second, looked about, rubbed his eyes, shook his head, and\ntaking his staff drove it through the faggot, and pinned it firmly\nto the ground. Then he went again to the wood.\n\nNo sooner was he gone than the young fellows crept from their\nhiding-place and removed the second bundle, but planted his staff\nwhere he had set it.\n\nBack came Joe Leaman bowed under a third faggot, but when he saw\nthat the second had vanished like the first, and his stick remained,\nthis was too much for him; down went number three, and he took to\nhis heels, and did not halt till he reached his cottage.\n\nSome hours later the mischievous youths came in, and saw the old\nfellow crouched over his peat fire.\n\n\"Well, Joe, how bee'st a?\"\n\n\"A b'aint well.\"\n\n\"What's the matter?\"\n\n\"Umph! b'aint well.\"\n\nNothing more could be got out of him.\n\nDuring the night the lads brought all three faggots and his stick,\nand pegged them down at his door. Joe came out in the morning.\n\n\"Ah!\" said he, \"them Pysgies! They'm vriends wi' me again. Now I'm\nall right. It ud niver do, us on the moor not to be on g\u00fcde tarms\nwi' they. I'm right as a trivet now.\"\n\nThe schools have pretty well banished superstition from Dartmoor;\nnone now remains, and I doubt whether the old stories are any longer\nto be picked up there.\n\nEducation, however, is not in an advanced condition. The other day I\ntook down for preservation the following notice I saw affixed to the\nchurch gate at Post Bridge. It was written on vermilion-red paper:--\n\n    \"Mary maze hencot as been and kellad\n    John Webb Jack daw.\n    and he got to pay 5^s for kellad a Jack daw.\"\n\nThe sense is not clear. As may be noticed, Mary is a _he_, just as a\ncow is a _he_.\n\nHere is a bit of conversation overheard between two Dartmoor boys:--\n\n\"I zay, Bill, 'ow many cows hev your vaither?\"\n\n\"Mine--oh! dree and an oss. How many 'as yourn?\"\n\n\"Mine! oh! my vaither--e's in heaven.\"\n\n\"Get out! mine ha' been there sc\u00f6res o' times.\"\n\nThis is a sceptical age. The very foundations of faith in verities\nand trust in authorities are shaken. How far may be instanced by\nthis anecdote:--\n\nTwo choir boys had been to a Christmas treat. There was a cake with\nlittle plaster figures on it, and two of these were presented to\nthe aforesaid boys, Jack and Tom, by their pastor and spiritual\nfather, with strict injunctions not to eat them, as they would be\nmost injurious, might kill them. They took the images home, and\nshowed them to their mother, who at once perceived that they were of\nplaster of Paris and not edible.\n\n\"Byes!\" said she, \"doant ey niver go for to ate of thickey drashey\nthings. They'll kill yu for zure-cartain, right off on end.\"\n\nHere, pray note it, was the same thing inculcated by the material\nas well as the spiritual parent. Some hours later the mother with a\nshock perceived that one of the plaster figures was gone from the\nmantelshelf on which she had placed it.\n\n\"Tom! Tom!\" she cried to the only son who was then in the house,\n\"where be the plaister man to?\"\n\n\"Plaise, mother, Jack hev aiten 'n--and if Jack be alive this\narternoon, I be goin' to ate the other wan.\"\n\nWhen such a condition of mind exists among the young, can one expect\nto find a belief in Pixies still present?\n\nThe only very modern case of spectres or their congeners on the moor\nI have heard of is that of a moor farmer, who is wont to return from\nmarket at Moreton in a hilarious condition.\n\n\"T' other day,\" said he, \"just as I comed to a little dip in the\nground t' other side o' Merripit, who shu'd I meet but the witch\no' Endor. 'Muster,' sez she, 'Yu've been drinkin' and got liquor\no' board.' Now how cu'd a woman a' knawed that onless her'd been a\nsperrit herself or a witch I'd like to knaw.\"\n\n[Illustration: TAVY CLEAVE]\n\nSome of those who have been brought up on the moor cannot endure to\nleave it. One man named John Hamlyn, who died aged eighty years,\nhad never in all his life been off it. Another, Jacob Gorman, aged\nseventy-five, had been from it only two months in all his life. At\na little cot near Birch Tor, it was said that the fire had not gone\nout for a hundred years, as the women had never for a night left the\nhouse.\n\nSome of the old cottages on the moor were wonderful abodes, like\nIrish cabins. They are gradually disappearing, but a few still\nremain. The influx of visitors to Dartmoor, and the money brought\nthere, tend to their effacement. A cot that could be run up between\nsunrise and sunset and a fire lighted by nightfall, has been held to\nconstitute a right for ever to the place. Some of the hovels still\nstanding have been so erected.\n\nThe rivers on the moor are liable to freshets. In the notable storm\nof 1890, Merivale Bridge on the Walla, and the old bridge leading\nfrom Tavistock to Peter Tavy over the Tavy river, were swept away.\nBut the Dart is notorious for its sudden swelling. It was due to\nthis that the old couplet ran--\n\n    \"River of Dart, O river of Dart,\n    Every year thou claimest a heart.\"\n\nThe river \"cries\" when there is to be a change of wind. \"Us shall\nhave bad weather, maister; I hear the Broadstones a crying.\" The\nBroadstones are boulders of granite lying in the bed of the river.\nThe cry, however, hardly comes from them, but from a piping of the\nwind in the twists of the glen through which the turbulent river\nwrithes.\n\nIn Dartington churchyard there is a tombstone to the memory of John\nEdmonds, who was drowned in the river on August 17th, 1840. He and\nhis intended were coming from Staverton Church, where they had been\nmarried, when a wave of water rolled down on them, and cart, horse,\nand bride and bridegroom were swept away. Her body was found caught\nin a tree a few hundred yards below, but the body of the man was not\nrecovered for nearly three weeks afterwards; the horse and cart were\ncarried over the weir near Totnes bridge.\n\nAbout a hundred and fifty years ago there was no stone bridge at\nHexworthy, only a clapper (wooden bridge). Two men were coming down\nthe road when they heard the roar of a freshet. \"Here cometh old\nDart--let's run,\" said one. They ran, but old Dart was too quick for\nthem; he caught them on the clapper and carried both off and drowned\nthem; so that year he had two hearts.\n\nA few years ago the Meavy suddenly rose and caught a man and his\nhorse as they were crossing a ford below the village. The man was\nnot drowned, but died of the consequences.\n\nUp to 1702 there were on Dartmoor but thirty-five tenements in\nfifteen localities, some two or three being grouped together in\ncertain places. These ancient farms are situated in the best and\nmost favoured portions of the Forest of Dartmoor, and have been\noccupied from prehistoric times, as is evidenced by the quantity of\nflint tools that are turned up at these spots.\n\nThere is an account of the tenants of Dartmoor as early as 1344-5,\nfrom which it appears that they were then forty-four in number. In\n1346 the forty-four tenants depastured no less than 4700 oxen and\nthirty-seven steers, a very respectable total, and one showing that\nthe favoured spots in the forest some five and a half centuries ago\ncarried considerable herds of cattle.\n\nThe names of the ancient tenements are: Hartland, Merripit,\nRunnage, and Warner; Dury, Pizwell, Bellever, Reddon, and Babenay;\nPrincehall, Dunnabridge, Brounberry, Sherberton, Hexworthy, Huccaby,\nand Brimpts.\n\nFormerly all these tenements were held as customary freeholds or\ncopyholds, but many of them have been purchased by the Duchy.[20]\n\n  [20] For a full account of them see BURNARD (R.), _Dartmoor\n  Pictorial Records_. Plymouth, 1893.\n\nWhere the miners lived in the old times, when tin mining was\nin vigour on the moor, is not very clear, as very few ruins of\nquadrangular buildings remain that could have served as houses, and\nit is quite certain that they did not inhabit the hut circles, as\nthey have not left their traces therein. They, in all likelihood,\nlodged in the farmhouses and their outbuildings during the week, and\nreturned to their homes for the Sundays.\n\nIn 1806 the vast range of prisons was erected at Princetown, on\nthe bleakest and one of the loftiest sites on Dartmoor, for the\naccommodation of French prisoners of war. From 1816, when peace\nwas proclaimed, the buildings stood empty till 1850, when they\nwere converted into a convict establishment, and since then the\nprisoners have been employed in enclosing and reclaiming the moor.\n\nAs may well be imagined, many attempts at escape have been made. I\nremember one, especially daring, which was nearly successful, some\nforty years ago. A prisoner succeeded in creeping along one of the\nbeams sustaining the roof of the hall in which were the warders\neating their supper, without attracting their attention. He got\nthence over the wall, and next broke into the doctor's house. There\nhe possessed himself of a suit of clothes, and left his convict suit\nbehind. Next he entered the doctor's stable, and took his horse out.\nBut he was unable to enter the harness-room, owing to the strength\nof the lock, and so was obliged to escape, riding the horse, indeed,\nbut without saddle, and directing it not with a bridle, but with a\nhalter.\n\nHe rode along at a swinging pace till he reached Two Bridges, where\nthere is an ascent rather steep for a quarter of a mile, and then he\nnecessarily slackened his pace. To his great annoyance, as he passed\nthe Saracen's Head (the inn which constitutes the settlement of\nTwo Bridges) a man emerged from the public-house and jumped on his\nhorse. This was a moorman. The morrow was appointed for a drift, and\nhe was going to make preparations to drive his quarter of the moor.\nHe leaped on his horse and trotted after the convict, little knowing\nwho he was.\n\nThat night was one of moonlight. The moorman saw a gentleman in\nblack riding a good horse before him, and he pushed on to be\nabreast with him and have a little talk.\n\n\"Whom have I the honour of riding with at night?\" asked the moorman.\n\n\"I'm the new curate,\" said the convict, \"going round on my pastoral\nduties.\"\n\n\"Oh, indeed, without saddle and bridle?\"\n\n\"I was called up to a dying person. My groom was away. For souls one\nmust do much.\"\n\n\"Indeed, and your clothes don't seem to fit you,\" observed the\nmoorman.\n\nNow the doctor was a fat man, and the man who wore his clothes was\nlean.\n\n\"My duties are wearing to the carnal man,\" said the rider.\n\n\"And the horse. By ginger! it's the doctor's,\" exclaimed the moorman.\n\nThe convict kicked the flanks of his steed, and away he bounded. The\nhill had been surmounted. The moorman gave chase.\n\nThen he recollected that the doctor's horse was an old charger, and\nhe thundered out, \"Halt! Right about face!\"\n\nInstantly the old charger stopped--instantly--stopped dead, and away\nover his head like a rocket shot the _soi-disant_ curate.\n\nIn another moment the moorman was on him, had him fast, and said\ngrimly, \"You're a five-pounder to me, my reverend party.\"\n\nFive pounds is the reward for the apprehension of an escaped convict.\n\nThe moorman got his five pounds, and the convict got something he\ndidn't like. He forfeited all the years of his imprisonment past,\nand got seven in addition for the theft of the horse and clothes.\n\nSome years ago a convict escaped and concealed himself in a mine.\nImpelled by hunger, he showed himself to the men there engaged. He\ntold them that he was, like them, a toiler underground. They agreed\nto shelter him, and he was kept concealed in the mine till the\nsearch for him was past. Then they gave him old clothes, and each\nsubscribed a sum of money to help him to leave the country. He got\naway, and some year or two after he sent back all the money he had\nbeen given, to be repaid to the men who had subscribed to get him\noff, and a good present into the bargain.\n\nA very different case was this.\n\nA man got out, escaped from the moor, and made his way to his wife's\ncottage. She gave him up and claimed the five pounds reward for her\ntreachery.\n\nA friend was spending some months at Beardown. One evening he\nreturned late from Tavistock, and to give notice that he was\narriving fired off a pistol as he crossed the little bridge over the\nriver below. Little did he then imagine, what he learned later, that\na couple of convicts who had escaped were hiding under the bridge;\nthey would have sprung out on him and despoiled him of his clothes\nand money, possibly have murdered him, but were deterred by his\nchance firing of the pistol. They were captured a day or two later,\nand this was their confession.\n\nIt is not by any means easy for a convict to escape. When they are\nat work there are two rings of warders about them armed with rifles,\nand there is moreover a signal-station that commands where they are\nat work, from which watch is kept upon them.\n\nOur criminal class costs the nation a prodigious sum. The prison\npopulation for England and Scotland is about 30,000, and the prison\nexpenditure last year (1898) was \u00a3604,696, so that the cost annually\nto the country of each convict is about \u00a320.\n\nBut there are indirect costs. If we put down:--\n\n  Law courts at                   \u00a33,757,960.\n  Police at                        5,000,000.\n  Loss of property by depredation\n       of criminals not less than  1,000,000.\n                                   ----------\n                           Total  \u00a39,761,960.\n                                   ==========\n\nand add to this the cost of the prisons, we reach the frightful\nexpenditure of over ten millions. Surely the nation is penny wise\nand pound foolish. If instead of spending so much to get men _into_\nprison, and keep them there, it would but concern itself with\nkeeping them _out_, there would be a great reduction in cost.\n\nThe convict is not such an utter black sheep as we might be disposed\nto think him. That which forms the class is the sending back among\ntheir fellows men who have been in prison. They cannot get out of\nthe association, and consequently they return again and again to\ntheir cells.\n\nThere is indeed a society for helping prisoners on leaving to get\ninto situations, but this is a duty that should be undertaken\nby the nation; and very often the only way to really give a poor\nfellow a chance is to move him entirely away from this country. It\nis a difficult problem, and we could not, of course, send them to\nour colonies; but all social problems are difficult, yet should be\nfaced, and there is a solution to be found somewhere.\n\nAll that the convict really requires is a certain amount of\ndiscipline, a strong hand, and a clear head in a leader or master,\nand he may yet be made a man of, useful to his fellows.\n\n\"You don't think I'm such a fool as to like it, do you?\" said a\nconvicted burglar to the chaplain. \"I do it because I can't help\nmyself. When I leave prison I have nowhere else to go but to my old\npals and the old diggings.\"\n\nIf it could be contrived to give these fellows, after a first\nconviction, a start in a new country, nine out of ten might be\nreclaimed. They are like children, not wilfully given to evil, but\nincapable of self-restraint, and cowards among their fellows, whose\nopinions and persuasion they dare not oppose.\n\nThere is one institution connected with Dartmoor that must not be\npassed over--Bellever Day.\n\nWhen hare-hunting is over in the low country, then, some week or two\nafter Easter, the packs that surround Dartmoor assemble on it, and\na week is given up to hare-hunting. On the last day, Friday, there\nis a grand gathering on Bellever Tor. All the towns and villages\nneighbouring on Dartmoor send out carriages, traps, carts, riders;\nthe roads are full of men and women, ay, and children hurrying\nto Bellever. Little girls with their baskets stuffed with saffron\ncake for lunch desert school and trudge to the tor. Ladies go out\nwith champagne luncheons ready. Whether a hare be found and coursed\nthat day matters little. It is given up to merriment in the fresh\nair and sparkling sun. And the roads that lead from Bellever in\nthe afternoon are careered over by riders, whose horses are so\nexhilarated that they race, and the riders have a difficulty in\nkeeping their seats. Their faces are red, not those of the horses,\nbut their riders--from the sun and air--and they are so averse to\nleave the moor, that they sometimes desert their saddles to roll on\nthe soft and springy turf.\n\nTrout-fishing on Dartmoor is to be had, and on very easy terms, but\nthe rivers are far less stocked than they were a few years ago, as\nthey are so persistently whipped. The trout are small and dark, but\ndelicious eating.\n\nThere would be more birds but for the mischievous practice of\n\"swaling\" or burning the heather and gorse, which is persisted in\ntill well into the summer, and, walking over a fresh-burned patch\nof moor, one may tread on roasted eggs or the burned young of some\nunhappy birds that fondly deemed there was protection for them in\nEngland.\n\nThe \"swaling\" is carried on upon the commons round the forest as\nwell as on the forest itself, so that the blame is not wholly due to\nthe representatives of the Duchy.\n\nOne is disposed to think that the moor must be a desolate and\naltogether uninhabitable region in the winter. It is not so--at no\ntime do the mosses show in such variety of colour, and when the sun\nshines the sense of exhilaration is beyond restraint.\n\nTo all lovers of Dartmoor I dedicate the song with which I conclude\nthis chapter.\n\n\nTHE SONG OF THE MOOR.\n\n    'Tis merry in the spring time,\n      'Tis blithe on Dartimoor,\n    Where every man is equal,\n      For every man is poor.\n    I do what I'm a minded,\n      And none will say me nay,\n    I go where I'm inclin\u00e8d,\n      On all sides--right of way.\n\n            O the merry Dartimoor,\n            O the bonny Dartimoor,\n              I would not be where I'm not free\n            As I am upon the moor.\n\n    'Tis merry in the summer,\n      When furze be flowering sweet;\n    The bees about it humming,\n      In honey bathe their feet.\n    The plover and the peewit,\n      How cheerily they pipe,\n    And underfoot the whortle\n      Is turning blue and ripe.\n\n            O the merry Dartimoor, etc.\n\n    'Tis merry in the autumn,\n      When snipe and cock appear,\n    And never see a keeper\n      To say, No shooting here!\n    We stack the peat for fuel,\n      We ask no better fire,\n    And never pay a farden\n      For all that we require.\n\n            O the merry Dartimoor, etc.\n\n    'Tis merry in the winter,\n      The wind is on the moor,\n    For twenty miles to leeward\n      The people hear it roar.\n    'Tis merry in the ingle,\n      Beside a moorland lass,\n    As watching turves a-glowing,\n      The brimming bumpers pass.\n\n            O the merry Dartimoor,\n            O the bonny Dartimoor,\n              I would not be where I'm not free\n            As I am upon the moor.\n\n     NOTE.--Articles to be consulted:--\n\n     COLLIER (W. F.), \"Dartmoor,\" in _Transactions of the Devonshire\n     Association_ for 1876.\n\n  COLLIER (W. F.), \"Venville Rights on Dartmoor,\" _ibid._, 1887.\n       \"          \"Dartmoor for Devonshire,\" _ibid._, 1894.\n       \"          \"Sport on Dartmoor,\" _ibid._, 1895.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nOKEHAMPTON\n\n     Origin of Okehampton obscure--The Ockments--Moor\n     seekers--Okehampton Castle--French prisoners--Church--Belstone\n     and Taw Marsh--Cranmere Pool--Tavy Cleave--South\n     Zeal--Prehistoric monuments--An evening at the \"Oxenham\n     Arms\"--The Oxenham white bird--Mining misadventures--\"Old\n     vayther\"--Ecclesiological excursions--Early Christian monuments.\n\n\nWhat brought Okehampton into existence? It is not fathered by\nthe castle, nor mothered by the church. Both have withdrawn to a\ndistance and repudiated responsibility in the stunted bantling. It\n\"growed not of itself,\" like Topsy, for it did not grow at all; it\nstuck.\n\nSourton Down on the west, Whiddon Down on the east--where the devil,\nit is reported, caught cold--Dartmoor on the south, shut Okehampton\nin. It was open only to the wintry north, where population is sparse.\n\nFormerly, once in the day, once only did the mail coach traverse\nthe one long street, ever on the yawn, and this was the one throb\nof life that ran through it. No passenger descended from the coach,\nno meals were taken, no lodging for the night was sought. The mails\nwere dropped and the coach passed away.\n\n[Illustration: TAW MARSH]\n\nThere were, in Okehampton, no manufacture, no business, no\npleasure even, for it had no assembly balls, no neighbourhood.\nOkehampton was among towns what the earth-worm is in the order\nof animated nature, a digestive tube, but with digestive faculty\nundeveloped. Now all is changed. The War Office has established\na summer barrack on the heights above it, and life--in some\nparticulars in undesirable excess--has manifested itself. Trade has\nsprung up: a lesson in life--never to despair of any place, any more\nthan of any man. It has an office to fill, a function to perform,\nif only patience be exercised and time allowed. But if Okehampton\nin itself considered as a town be ugly and uninteresting, the\nneighbourhood abounds in objects of interest, and the situation is\nfull of beauty.\n\nTwo brawling rivers, the East and the West Ockments, dance down from\nthe moors and unite at the town; and if each be followed upwards\nscenes of rare wildness and picturesque beauty will be found.\n\nIt is towered over by Yes Tor and Cosdon, two of the highest points\non Dartmoor, and some of the moor scenery, with its tumbled ranges\nof rocky height, is as fine as anything in the county of Devon.\n\nThe Ockment (_uisg-maenic_)[21] or stony water, gives its name\nto the place; the Saxon planted his _tun_ at the junction of the\nstreams, whereas the earlier _dun_ of the Briton was on the height\nabove the East Ockment. Baldwin the Sheriff was given a manor\nthere, and he set to work to build a castle, in the days of the\nConqueror. Some of his work may be seen in the foundations of the\nkeep. He took rolled granite blocks out of the river bed and built\nwith them. But later, when the neck of slate rock was cut through on\nwhich the castle stands, so as to isolate it from the hill to which\nit was once connected, then the stone thus excavated was employed\nto complete the castle keep. Baldwin de Moels, or Moules, was the\nsheriff, and his descendants bore _mules_ on their coat armour. The\ncastle and manor remained in the hands of the de Moels and Avenells\ntill the reign of Henry II., when they were given to Matilda\nd'Avranches, whose daughter brought it into the Courtenay family.\n\n  [21] The Ock (_uisg_, water) occurs elsewhere. The Oke-brook flows\n  into the West Dart below Huckaby Bridge; and Huckaby is Ock-a-boe.\n  The earlier name of the Blackabrook must have been Ock, for the\n  bridge over it is Okery.\n\nThe castle stands half a mile from the town. \"Okehampton Castle,\"\nsays Mr. Worth, \"differs from the other ancient castles of Devon\nin several noteworthy features. Most of the Norman fortalices,\nwhether in this county or in Cornwall, have round shell keeps, as at\nPlympton and Totnes, Restormel and Launceston, may be seen to this\nday. The typical Norman castles, with the true square keeps, were\nfewer in number, but, as a rule, of greater comparative importance.\nAmong them, that of Okehampton occupies what may be regarded as a\nmiddle position. More important than Lydford in its adjuncts, it\nmust have been much inferior to Exeter--Rougemont; nor in its later\nphases can it ever have compared with the other Courtenay hold at\nTiverton, as a residence, with their present seat at Powderham, or\nin extent and defensive power with the stronghold of the Pomeroys\nat Berry. Nevertheless, in the early Middle Ages it must have been\nregarded as a place of no little strength and dignity, when the\nCourtenays had completed what the Redverses began.\"\n\nThe keep is planted on a mound that has been artificially formed by\nparing away of a natural spur of hill; it is approached by a gradual\nslope from the east, along which, connected with the mound by\ncurtain walls, are the remains of two ranges of buildings, north and\nsouth. On the north is the hall, and adjoining it the cellar; on the\nsouth guard-rooms and chapel, and above the former were the lord's\nrooms. A barbican remains at the foot of the hill. The whole is\nsmall and somewhat wanting in dignity and picturesqueness. All the\nbuildings except the keep were erected at the end of the thirteenth\ncentury.\n\nIn the chapel may be seen, cut in the Hatherleigh freestone, \"Hic\nV...t fuit captivus belli, 1809.\" In the churchyard are graves of\nother French prisoners. Many were buried, or supposed to have been\nburied, at Princetown, where the prisons were erected for their\naccommodation. Recently, in making alterations and enlarging the\nchurchyard there, several of their graves have been opened, and the\ncoffins were discovered to be _empty_. Either the escape of the\nprisoners of war was connived at, and they were reported as dead and\nburied, or else their bodies were given, privately, for dissection.\n\nOkehampton Church was burnt down in 1842, with the exception of\nthe fine tower. It was rebuilt immediately after, and, considering\nthe period when this was done, it is better than might have been\nexpected. The chapel of S. James in the town was \"restored\" in a\nbarbarous manner some thirty years later.\n\nFinely situated, with its back against rich woods, is Oaklands\nHouse, built by a timber merchant named Atkyns, who made his fortune\nin the European war, and who changed his name to Saville. It is now\nthe property of Colonel Holley. On the ridge above the station is\na camp. The East Ockment should be followed up to Cullever Steps.\nOn the slope of the Belstone Common is a circle called the Nine\nMaidens, but there are a good many more than nine stones. These are\nsaid to dance on Midsummer night, and to be petrified damsels who\ninsisted on dancing on a Sunday when they ought to have been at\nchurch. The circle is no true \"sacred circle,\" but the remains of a\nhut circle consisting of double facing of upright slabs, formerly\nfilled in with smaller stone between.\n\nOne of the most interesting excursions that can be made from\nOkehampton is to Belstone and the Taw Marsh. This was once a fine\nlake, but has been filled up with rubble brought down from the tors.\nAt the head of the marsh stands Steeperton Tor, 1739 feet, rising\nboldly above the marsh, with the Taw brawling down a slide of rock\nand rubble on the right. This is one way by which Cranmere Pool may\nbe reached. Cranmere is popularly supposed to derive its name from\nthe cranes that it is conjectured may have resorted to it, but as\nno such birds have been seen there, or would be likely to go where\nthere is neither fish nor spawn, the derivation must be abandoned.\n\n[Illustration: YES TOR]\n\nIt is more probably derived from _cren_, Cornish \"round,\" or from\n_crenne_, to quake, as the pool is in the heart of bogs. It lies\nat the height of over 1750 feet, in the midst of utter desolation,\nwhere the peat is chapped and seamed and is of apparently great\ndepth. But the pool itself is nothing. Gradually the peat has\nencroached upon it, till almost nothing but a puddle remains.\n\nIn this vast boggy district rise the Tavy, the two Ockments, the\nTaw, the North Teign, and the two Darts. The nearest elevation is\nCut Hill, that reaches 1981 feet, and Whitehorse Hill, 1974. Across\nthis desolate waste there is but one track from Two Bridges to\nLydford, narrow, and only to be taken by one, if on horseback, who\nknows the way. On each hand is unfathomed bog. Cut Hill takes its\nname from a cleft cut through the walls of peat to admit a passage\nto Fur Tor.\n\nEven in this wilderness there are cairns covering the dead. One is\nled to suppose that they cover peculiarly restless beings, who were\ntaken as far as possible from the habitations of men. I remember\nseeing a cairn in Iceland in a howling waste that in historic times\nwas raised over one Gl\u00e2mr who would not lie quiet in his grave, but\nwalked about and broke the backs of the living, or frightened them\nto death. He was dug up and transported as far as could be into the\nwilderness, his head cut off and placed as a cushion for his trunk\nto sit on, and then reburied.\n\nCranmere Pool, though but a puddle, deserves a visit. The intense\ndesolation of the spot is impressive. On such solitary stretches,\nwhere not a sound of life, not the cry of a curlew, nor the hum of\nan insect is heard, I have known a horse stand still and tremble and\nsweat with fear. Here a few plants becoming rare elsewhere may still\nbe found.\n\nThere is a story told in Okehampton of a certain Benjamin Gayer,\nwho was mayor there in 1673 and 1678, and died in 1701, that he is\ncondemned nightly to go from Okehampton to Cranmere to bale out the\npond with a thimble that has a hole in it.\n\nTavy Cleave may be visited from Okehampton or from Tavistock. There\nis but one way in which it ought to be visited to see it in its\nglory. Take the train to Bridestowe and walk thence to the \"Dartmoor\nInn.\" Strike thence due east, cross the brawling Lyd by steps to\nDoe Tor Farm, and thence aim for Hare Tor: keep to the right of\nthe head of the tor and strike for some prongs of rock that appear\nsouth-east, and when you reach these you have beneath you 1000 feet,\nthe ravine of the Tavy as it comes brawling down from the moor and\nplunges over a bar of red granite into a dark pool below. Far away\nto the north comes the Rattle Brook, dancing down trout-laden from\nAmicombe Hill and Lynx Tor, and to the east in like desolation rises\nFur Tor, set in almost impassable bogs.\n\nBetween the Cleave rocks and Ger Tor is a settlement with hut\ncircles well preserved, but one in a far better condition lies\nbeyond the Tavy on Standon.\n\nTavy Cleave is fine from below, but incomparably finer when seen\nfrom above.\n\nIn June it is a veritable pixy fruit garden for luxuriance and\nabundance of purple whortleberries.\n\nAll the veins of water forming depressions have been at some remote\nperiod laboriously streamed.\n\nAnother interesting excursion may be made to South Zeal. The old\ncoach-road ran through this quaint place, but the new road leaves\nit on one side. A few years ago it was more interesting than it\nis now, as some of the old houses have recently been removed. It,\nhowever, repays a visit. Situated at the opening of the Taw Cleave,\nunder Cosdon Beacon, it is a little world to itself. The well-to-do\ncommunity have extensive rights of common, and of late have been\nruthlessly enclosing. None can oppose them, as all are agreed to\ngrab and appropriate what they can. This has led to much destruction\nof prehistoric remains. There was at one time a circle of standing\nstones from eight to nine feet high. This has gone; so has an\navenue of upright stones on the common leading to West Week. But\nanother of stones, that are, however, small, starting from a cairn\nthat contains two small kistvaens, is beside and indeed crosses\nthe moor-track leading towards Rayborough Pool; and on Whitmoor is\na circle still fairly intact, though three or four of the largest\nuprights have been broken and removed to serve as gate-posts. Near\nthis is the Whitmoor Stone, a menhir, spared as it constitutes a\nparish boundary.\n\nIn South Zeal is a little granite chapel, and before it is a very\nstately cross. The inn, the \"Oxenham Arms,\" was formerly the\nmansion of the Burgoynes. I spent there an amusing evening a few\nwinters ago. I had gone there with my friend Mr., now Dr., Bussell\ncollecting folk-songs, for I remembered hearing many sung there when\nI was a boy some forty years before. I had worked the place for\ntwo or three days previously, visiting and \"yarning\" with some of\nthe old singers, till shyness was broken down and good-fellowship\nestablished. Then I invited them to meet me at the \"Oxenham Arms\" in\nthe evening.\n\nBut when the evening arrived the inn was crowded with men. The\nwomen--wives and daughters--were dense in the passage, and outside\nboys stood on each other's shoulders flattening their noses, so that\nthey looked like dabs of putty, against the window-panes. Evidently\na grand concert was expected, and the old men rose to the occasion,\nand stood up in order and sang--but only modern songs--to suit the\naudience.\n\nHowever, the ice was broken, and during the next few days we had\nthem in separately to sup with us, and after supper and a glass,\nover a roaring fire, they sang lustily some of the old songs drawn\nup from the bottom-most depths of their memory. There were \"Lucky\"\nFewins, and old Charles Arscott, and lame Radmore, James Glanville,\nand Samuel Westaway, the cobbler. I remember one of them was\nstubborn; he would not allow me to take down the words of a song\nof his--not a very ancient one either--but did not object to the\n\"pricking\" of the tune. It was not till two years after that he gave\nway and surrendered the words.\n\nThe old house of the Oxenham family is in the neighbourhood, but\nhas passed away into other hands. To this family belonged, there\ncan be little doubt, the John Oxenham who was such an adventurous\nseaman and explorer in the Elizabethan days. He was one of those who\naccompanied Francis Drake in the expedition to Nombre de Dios in\n1572, and afterwards, in an adventure on his own account, was the\nfirst Englishman who launched a keel on the Pacific Ocean, or South\nSea, as it was then called. He fell into the hands of the Spaniards,\nand was carried to Lima, where he was executed as a pirate. His\nstory has been worked into Kingsley's _Westward Ho!_ The omen of the\nappearance of a white bird before death, supposed to belong to the\nfamily, is there effectively introduced.\n\nThe house of Oxenham is of the last century, and was built about\nthe year 1714, the date which is sculptured on one of the granite\npillars of the entrance gates. The family does not seem to have\nbeen qualified to bear arms in 1620, the last Herald's visitation,\nbut the coat borne by the family is _ar. a fess embattled between 3\noxen sa._ The story is told that once upon a time a certain Margaret\nOxenham was about to be married to the man of her choice. In the\nmidst of the preparations on the wedding morn, when all was going\nmerrily, the white bird appeared and hovered over the bride-elect.\nThe ceremony, however, proceeded, and at the altar of South Tawton\nthe hapless bride was stabbed to death by a rejected lover.\n\nThere is a remarkably circumstantial printed account of some\nappearances of the family omen in the year 1635 in a very rare\ntract, entitled, _A True Relation of an Apparition in the likenesse\nof a Bird with a white brest, that appeared hovering over the\nDeath-Beds of some of the children of Mr. James Oxenham, of Sale\nMonachorum, Devon, Gent._ Prefixed to the tract is a quaint engraved\nfrontispiece. It is in four compartments; in each of the first three\nis a representation of a person lying in a bed of the four-post\ntype, and in the fourth is a child in a wicker cradle. Over each\nindividual is a bird on the wing, hovering. At the foot of these\npictorial compartments are the names of those above whom the bird\nappears: John Oxenham, aged 21; Thomasine, wife of James Oxenham the\nyounger, aged 22; Rebecca Oxenham, aged 8, and Thomasine, a babe.\n\nThis tract may have been provoked by a letter of James Howell to\n\"Mr. E. D.,\" dated 3rd July, 1632, and written from Westminster:--\n\n     \"I can tell you of a strange thing I saw lately here, and I\n     believe 't is true. As I pass'd by St. Dunstans in Fleet-street\n     the last Saturday, I stepp'd into a Lapidary, or stone-cutter's\n     shop, to treat with the Master for a stone to be put upon my\n     Father's Tomb; and casting my eyes up and down, I might spie a\n     huge Marble with a large inscription upon 't, which was thus to\n     my best remembrance:--\n\n     \"'_Here lies_ John Oxenham, _a goodly young man, in whose\n     chamber, as he was struggling with the Pangs of Death, a Bird\n     with a white brest was seen fluttering about his Bed, and so\n     vanished_.\n\n     \"'_Here lies_ Mary Oxenham, _the sister of the said_ John, _who\n     died the next day, and the same Apparition was seen in the\n     Room_.'\n\n     \"Then another sister is spoke of. Then:--\n\n     \"'_Here lies hard by_ James Oxenham, _the son of the said_ John,\n     _who dyed a Child in his Cradel a little after, and such a Bird\n     was seen fluttering about his head, a little before he expir'd,\n     which vanish'd afterwards_.'\n\n     \"At the bottome of the Stone ther is:--\n\n     \"'_Here lies_ Elizabeth Oxenham, _the Mother of the said_ John,\n     _who died sixteen years since, when such a Bird with a white\n     Brest was seen about her bed before her death_.'\n\n     \"To all these ther be divers Witnesses, both Squires and Ladies,\n     whose names are engraven upon the Stone. This Stone is to be\n     sent to a Town hard by Exeter, wher it happen 'it.\"[22]\n\n  [22] _Epistol\u00e6 Ho-Elian\u00e6_, 5th edition, p. 232. London, 1678.\n\nThere are several suspicious points about the story. No such a\nmonument exists or has existed in South Tawton Church, nor is one\nsuch known to have been set up in any other in the county. The stone\nwas of marble, and therefore not for the graveyard, but for the\ninterior of the church.\n\nAccording to the registers there was a John Oxenham, _senior_, died,\nand was buried May 2nd, 1630, but not one of the others mentioned.\nThere were two John Oxenhams in the parish: John, son of James and\nElizabeth, born in 1613; and John, son of William and Mary, born in\n1614. Mary was the sister of the latter, and their father was the\nvillage doctor. But it was Elizabeth, according to Howell, who was\nthe mother. No James, son of John, was baptised at the time at South\nTawton. Elizabeth, the mother, according to Howell, died about 1616.\nNo such a person was buried at South Tawton at any date near that.\n\nThe persons named in the tract of 1635--three years after Howell's\nletter--are also four, but they are of Zeal Monachorum. But the name\nof Oxenham does not occur at all in the registers of that parish,\nand in the tract, apparently, South Zeal has been mistaken for Zeal\nMonachorum.[23] In the first edition of Howell's epistles there is\nno date to the letter; that was supplied later, probably by the\npublisher. Now it is curious that in 1635 the name John Oxenham\ndoes occur as having been buried at South Tawton on July 31st,\naged twenty-one. He was baptised July 10th, 1614. But there are no\nentries of Thomasine, wife of James, nor of Rebecca, aged eight,\neither baptised or buried; nor of Thomasine the babe.\n\n  [23] The author of the tract could not find any _parish_ of Zeal\n  in Devonshire except Zeal Monachorum, where, as he did _not_ know,\n  there were no Oxenhams, and so he converted the hamlet of Zeal in\n  South Tawton, where the Oxenhams _were_ at home, into the Zeal where\n  they were not.\n\nIn the tract we are informed that the white-breasted bird appeared\nwhen Grace, the grandmother of John Oxenham, died, in 1618.\n\nAnd in fact we do find in the South Tawton registers for that date,\nSeptember 2nd, 1618, Grace, the wife of John Oxenham, was buried.\n\nThat Howell's quotation from memory refers to the same four as are\nnamed in the tract is, I think, probable. He had not seen the tract,\nor he would have quoted the names correctly. The letter was not\nwritten at the date added to it at a later period, but in the same\nyear as the tract appeared, when he was a prisoner in the Fleet for\ndebt. Whether he ever saw the monument may be doubted, and he may\nhave merely written for publication with mention of the story which\nhe had from hearsay. As to the tract, it was one of those pious\nfrauds by no means uncommon among the \"goody-goody\" writers of that\nand other days, and the incident of the white-breasted bird was an\ninvention employed to \"catch\" the attention of readers, and lead on\nto the moral and pious sentiments that stuff the remainder of the\ntract. The trick of giving a list of witnesses was one resorted to\nby the ballad and tract mongers of the period, and it is noticeable\nthat those whose names are appended as witnesses never existed at\nSouth Zeal, in South Tawton parish.\n\nWhen once this pious fraud had been launched, it rolled on by its\nown weight, and it became a point of honour in the family to uphold\nit; and plenty of after-apparitions were feigned or fancied to have\nbeen seen.\n\nThe whole story of the alleged appearances of the white bird has\nbeen gone into with thoroughness by Mr. Cotton, of Exeter, who to\nsome extent credits it; that is to say, he thinks that some real\ninstances of birds fluttering at the window may have given rise\nto the story. But the basis is rotten, and the superstructure\naccordingly will not stand.[24]\n\n  [24] COTTON (R. W.), \"The Oxenham Omen,\" in _Transactions of the\n  Devonshire Association_, 1882.\n\nA mine had been worked formerly above South Zeal. It had been under\na \"captain,\" of practical experience but no scientific knowledge.\nIt yielded a small but steady profit. Then the directors and\nshareholders became impatient. They discharged the old captain,\nand sent down a fellow who had passed through the mining college,\nhad scientific geology and mineralogy at his fingers' ends. He\nscouted the machinery that had been hitherto in use, sneered at the\nold-fashioned methods that had been pursued, boasted of what he was\ngoing to do, revolutionised the mine, reorganised the plant, had all\nthe old machinery cast aside, or sold for old iron; had down new and\ncostly apparatus--then came heavy calls on the shareholders--renewed\ncalls--and there was an end of profits, and as _finis_ a general\ncollapse.\n\nSome years ago a great fraud was committed in the neighbourhood. It\nwas rumoured that gold was to be found in the gozen--the refuse from\nthe mines. All who had old mines on their land sent up specimens\nto London, and received reports that there was a specified amount\nof gold in what was forwarded. Some, to be sure that there was no\ndeception, went up with their specimens and saw them ground, washed,\nand analysed, and the gold extracted. So large orders were sent up\nfor gozen-crushing machines. These came down, were set to work, and\nno gold was then found. The makers of the machines had introduced\ngold-dust into the water that was used in the washing of the crushed\nstone. I made use of this incident in my novel _John Herring_.\n\nBut to return to the singers. Here is a song of local origin, which,\nhowever, I did not obtain from these South Zeal singers. I must\npremise that the local pronunciation of Okehampton is Ockington.\n\n    At Ockington, in Devonshire,\n    Old vayther lived vor many a year.\n    And I along wi' he did dwell\n    Nigh Dartimoor 'tes knawed vull well.\n\n              Diddle-diddle-dee.\n\n    It happ'nd on a zartain day,\n    Vour score o' sheep--they rinned astray.\n    Zeth vayther, Jack go arter'n, y\u016b.\n    Zez I--Be darned if ee'r I d\u016b.\n\n              Diddle-diddle-dee.\n\n    Purvok\u00e8d at my s\u0101acy tongue,\n    A dish o' br\u0101ath at me he flung.\n    Then fu' o' wrath, as poppy red\n    I knacked old vayther on the head.\n\n              Diddle-diddle-dee.\n\n    Then drayed wor I to Ex't'r jail,\n    There to be tried--allowed no bail,\n    And at next Easter 'zizes I\n    Condemn\u00e8d was therefor to die.\n\n              Diddle-diddle-dee.\n\n    Young men and maydens all, I pray\n    Take warnin' by my tragedy.\n    Rin arter sheep when they are strayed,\n    And don't knack vaythers on the 'ead.\n\n              Diddle-diddle-dee.\n\nSouth Tawton Church is fine. The restorer has taken the monumental\nslabs, sawn them in half, and employed them for lining the drain\nround the church, thus destroying the historical records of the\nparish. This is the more to be regretted, as a fire that occurred in\nthe parsonage has seriously damaged the old registers. There is a\nfine Wyke monument in the church.\n\nBut by far the most interesting church within an excursion of\nOkehampton is Bratton Clovelly, which, although not large, has a\nstately grandeur internally that is very impressive. Much money\nhas been spent in \"restoring\" this church. The glass is good,\nbut the new work in wood and alabaster is barely passable. North\nLew Church contains very fine old oak, beside modern woodwork of\npoverty-stricken design.\n\nThere are some early Christian monuments near Okehampton, a well at\nSticklepath with an inscribed stone by it, and another inscribed\nstone by the roadside from Okehampton to Exeter.\n\n     NOTE.--Books that may be consulted:--\n\n     BRIDGES (M. B.), _Some Account of the Barony and Town of\n     Okehampton_. New edition, Tiverton, 1889.\n\n     WORTH (R. N.), \"Okehampton Castle,\" in _Transactions of the\n     Devonshire Association_, 1895.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nMORETON HAMPSTEAD\n\n     Moreton Church--The almshouse--The dancing tree--Other dancing\n     trees--The vintner's bush--The calculating boy--Life of Mr.\n     Bidder--The ravens of Brennan--Grimspound--The Great Central\n     Trackway--Stone rows--The Lych Way--Churches--Bowerman's\n     Nose--Ashton--The Duchess of Kingston--Hennock--The Loveys\n     family--Parson Harris--John Cann's Rocks--Lustleigh\n     Cleave--Hound Tor and Hey Tor Rocks--Widecombe--The Ballad of\n     Tom Pearse.\n\n\nMoreton, with its whitewashed cottages and thatched roofs, has a\nprimitive appearance, and withal a look of cleanliness. It is now\nthe fashion to go to Chagford, which has been much puffed, but\nMoreton makes quite as good a headquarters for Dartmoor excursions.\n\nIt has a fine church of the usual type, that was gutted at its\nso-called restoration, and a remarkably fine carved oak screen was\nturned out, but happily secured by the late Earl of Devon, who gave\nit to Whitchurch, near Tavistock. A few years ago the fine screen of\nSouth Brent was thrown out when the church was made naked under the\npretence of restoration, and allowed to rot in an outhouse.\n\nMoreton undoubtedly at one time was a town in the moors, and the\nbold ridge that runs from Hell Tor to Hennock to the east was till\ncomparatively recently furze-and-heather-clad moor.\n\nAn object of singular picturesqueness in Moreton is the almshouse,\nwith the date of 1637, with a charming arcade of granite stunted\npillars. Opposite another almshouse has been erected in modern\ntimes, to show how badly we can do things now when our forefathers\ndid things well.\n\nIn the same street is the base of the old village cross and the head\nof the same broken off. In the place of the cross the \"Dancing Tree\"\nhas sprung up, that has been made use of by Mr. Blackmore in his\nnovel of _Christowel_. The tree in question is unhappily now in a\ncondition to be danced round, not any longer to be danced upon.\n\nThe tree is an elm, and it grows out of the basement of the old\nvillage cross, the lower steps of which engirdle the trunk; and a\nfragment of the head of the cross lies just below. The tree must\nhave sprung up after the destruction of the cross, or, possibly\nenough, it was itself the cause of destruction, much in the same way\nas trees have destroyed and rent in sunder the tomb of Lady Anne\nGrimstone, in Tewin churchyard.\n\nOf this latter the story goes that Lady Anne on her deathbed\ndeclared that she could not and would not believe in the\nresurrection of the body. Rather, she was reported to have said,\nwill I hold that nine trees shall spring out of my dead body.\n\nNow in process of time the great stone sepulchral mass placed over\nher grave split asunder, and through the rents issued the shoots\nof nine trees, six ash and three sycamores, together with great\ntrunks and coils of ivy, that among them have tossed up and hold in\nsuspense the fragments of Lady Anne's tomb. The story is of course\nmade to account for the phenomenon.\n\nBut to return to the Cross Tree, Moreton Hampstead. The elm, grown\nto a considerable size, was pollarded and had its branches curiously\ntrained, so that the upper portion was given the shape of a table.\nOn this tree-top it was customary on certain occasions to lay a\nplatform, railed round, access to which was obtained by a ladder,\nand on this tree-top dancing took place.\n\nThe following extracts taken from a journal kept by an old\ngentleman, a native and inhabitant of Moreton Hampstead at the\nbeginning of this century, are interesting as giving us some actual\ndates upon which festivities took place on the tree.\n\n     \"June 4th, 1800.--His Majesty's birthday. Every mark of loyalty\n     was shown. In the afternoon a concert of instrumental music was\n     held on the Cross Tree.\n\n     \"August 28th, 1801.--The Cross Tree floored and seated round,\n     with a platform, railed on each side, from the top of an\n     adjoining garden wall to the tree, and a flight of steps\n     in the garden for the company to ascend. After passing the\n     platform they enter under a grand arch formed of boughs. There\n     is sufficient room for thirty persons to sit around, and six\n     couples to dance, besides the orchestra. From the novelty of\n     this rural apartment it is expected much company will resort\n     there during the summer.\n\n     \"August 19th, 1807.--This night the French officers[25]\n     assembled on the Cross Tree with their band of music. They\n     performed several airs with great taste.\"\n\n  [25] Prisoners of war staying on parole at Moreton Hampstead.\n\nUnfortunately, and to the great regret of the inhabitants of\nMoreton, the tree was wrecked by a gale on October 1st, 1891, when\nthe force of the wind was so great that the ancient elm could\nnot withstand it, and at about a quarter past two o'clock in the\nafternoon most of the upper part was blown down, carrying with it\na large piece of the trunk, which is quite hollow. This latter has\nbeen replaced and securely fastened.\n\nA recent visit to the Cross Tree shows that the old elm is not\nprepared to die yet; it has thrown forth vigorous spray and has\ntufted its crown with green leaves.\n\nMoreton tree is not the only dancing tree in the West of England. On\nthe high road from Exeter to Okehampton, near Dunsford, is a similar\ntree, but an oak, and this was woven and extended and fashioned into\na flat surface.\n\nThe story in the neighbourhood used to be that the Fulfords, of\nGreat Fulford, held their lands on the singular tenure that they\nshould dine once a year on the top of the tree, and give a dance\nthere to their tenants. But this usage has long been discontinued.\nThe Fulfords are at Great Fulford still, notwithstanding.\n\nAgain another dancing tree is at Trebursaye, near Launceston. This\nalso is an oak, but is now in a neglected condition and has lost\nmost of its original form, looking merely as a peculiarly crabbed\nand tortured old tree. Here anciently a ghost was wont to be seen,\nthat of a woman who had fallen from it during a dance and broken her\nneck, and many stories were afloat relative to horses taking fright\nat night and running away with the riders, or of passers-by on foot\nwho were so scared as to be unable to pursue their journey, through\nseeing the dead woman dancing on the tree. At length matters became\nso serious that Parson Ruddle, vicar of Launceston, a notable man\nin his way, and famous as a ghost-layer, was induced to go to the\ntree at nightfall and exorcise the unquiet spirit. The ghost had so\neffectually frightened people that the dances on the top of the tree\nhad been discontinued. They were never resumed.\n\nAccording to tradition there was again another dancing tree on the\nroad from Okehampton to Launceston, near the village of Lifton.\nThis tree was held to be the earliest to put forth leaves in all\nthe country round. Entertainments were given on it, but it has\ndisappeared, and the only reminiscence of it remained till recently\nin \"The Royal Oak\" Inn, hard by which the old dancing tree stood.\n\nThere is yet another, the Meavy Oak, sometimes called the Gospel\nOak, for it is supposed that preaching was made from the steps of\nthe village cross that stands before it. The oak, however, is of\nvast age. It is referred to in deeds almost to the Conquest, and\nthat it was a sacred tree to which a certain amount of reverence\nwas given is probable enough. The cross was set up under its shadow\nto consecrate it, and probably to put an end to superstitious rites\ndone there. Anyhow this tree till within this century was, on the\nvillage festival, surrounded with poles, a platform was erected\nabove the tree, the top of which was kept clipped flat like a\ntable, and a set of stairs erected, by means of which the platform\ncould be reached.\n\nOn the top a table and chairs were set, and feasting took place.\nWhether dancing I cannot say, but in all probability in former\ngenerations there was dancing there as well as feeding and drinking.\nThese trees where dancing took place are precisely the May-pole in\na more primitive form. The May-pole is a makeshift for an actual\ntree; a pole was brought and set up and adorned with flowers and\ngreen boughs, and then danced round. There was in Cornwall, and\nindeed elsewhere, a grand exodus from the towns and villages to the\ngreenwood on May Day, when the lads and lasses at a very early hour\nwent in quest of May bushes, green boughs and flowers wherewith to\ndecorate the improvised May tree. This was then decorated profusely,\nand the merry-makers danced about it; ate, drank, and rose up to\nplay, precisely as of old did the Israelites about the Golden Calf\nin the wilderness of Sinai.\n\nAnd most assuredly in early times, before Christianity had been\nestablished, those dances and revels about a sacred tree, whether\nnaturally grown or whether manufactured as a May-pole, were an\nact of religious worship addressed to the spirit of vegetation\nmanifesting itself in full vigour in spring.\n\nWhen S. Boniface strove to bring the Saxons to the knowledge of the\ntruth, he cast down the great oak of Fritzlar which had received\ndivine honours. In this lived the spirit of fertility, and till it\nfell beneath his axe, Boniface was well aware that he could not\ntriumph over the popular superstition.\n\nS. Germanus, Bishop of Auxerre, who visited Britain to expose the\nPelagian heresy, was himself guilty before his ordination of paying\nsuperstitious reverence to a pear tree. He had been a hunter, and\nit was customary for those who returned from the chase to suspend\nin the tree the heads and antlers of the game killed, as an act\nof homage to the spirit that inhabited it. The Bishop Amator\nremonstrated, but in vain. Then one day, when Germanus was out\nhunting, Amator cut the tree down.\n\nThat some lingering notion of veneration due to trees hung on, and\nwas regarded as savouring of something not orthodox, is perhaps\nshown by the following incident, which is perfectly true. It was\ntold me by the person concerned. A new parson had been appointed to\na remote parish in one of the north-western dales of Yorkshire under\nthe Fells. Not being a native of Yorkshire, but a southerner, he\nwas eyed with suspicion, and his movements were watched. Now in the\nparsonage garden was a large tree, and about the roots was a bed of\nviolets. The suspicious villagers observed the pastor as he walked\nround the tree and every now and then bowed to pick a violet. This\nproceeding took place daily. Why he bowed they could not understand,\nunless it were in homage to the tree, and they actually drew up a\nmemorial to the Archbishop of York complaining of their parson as\nguilty of idolatrous tree-worship.\n\nThe bush hung out of a wine-shop signified that within were\ndrinking and dancing. The bush is but the sacred tree reduced to its\nsmallest dimensions, and the drinking and dancing that in former\ntimes took place around the tree are now relegated to within the\nhouse, but the bush is retained to symbolise roystering and mirth.\nI remember the case of a gentleman who \"went off his head;\" his\nfamily were reluctant to allow it to transpire. But one day a climax\nwas put to his eccentricities by his thrusting the stable broom out\nat an upper window, and proclaiming, \"This bush is to give notice,\nthat within I have got two marriageable daughters on sale. Sherry\nstood all round. Going to the highest bidder. Going--going----\" His\nwife caught him by the shoulders, twisted him about, and said: \"Gone\ncompletely--and off to the asylum you shall pack at once.\"\n\nMoreton Hampstead was the birthplace of that remarkable genius\nGeorge Parker Bidder. He was born in very humble circumstances,\nhis father having been a stonemason; and at the age of seven, when\nhis talent first became apparent, he did not know the meaning of\nthe word \"multiplication,\" nor could he read the common numerical\nsymbols.\n\n[Illustration: THE CALCULATING BOY]\n\nAn elder brother had taught him to count to one hundred. His great\nhaunt was the forge of the village blacksmith, a kindly old man,\nabout whom more presently. In his workshop neighbours would gather\nto prove the boy with hard questions involving figures, as it soon\nbecame known that he had an extraordinary faculty for calculation.\nThe earliest public notice of this that has been met with is in a\nletter dated January 19th, 1814, and signed \"I. Isaac,\" printed\nin the _Monthly Magazine_ (xxxvii. 104).\n\n     \"SIR,--Having heard that George Parker Bidder, seven years of\n     age,\" (he was really seven months over the seven years, as he\n     was born June 14th, 1806) \"has a peculiar talent for combining\n     numbers, I sent for him, desired him to read a few verses of\n     the New Testament, and found he could scarcely do it even by\n     spelling many words; and knew not the numbers of the letters\n     from one to ten.\" (Mr. Isaac then asked him several questions in\n     the first four rules of arithmetic, to each of which he replied\n     correctly and readily. He then proceeds to say): \"I then asked\n     him how many days are in two years. But here he was at a stand,\n     did not know what a year is, or how many hours are in a day,\n     but having the terms explained, he soon made out the hours in a\n     week, in a month, in twelve months. When asked how many inches\n     are in a square foot, he soon signified that he knew neither of\n     the terms, nor how many inches a foot contains, but with the\n     aid of explanation he soon made out the number 1728; and when\n     desired to multiply this by twelve, he complained the number was\n     too large, but having time, about two minutes, he made out the\n     number 20,738.\"\n\nHis father now took him over the country to exhibit his wonderful\npowers. In 1815 he was presented to Queen Charlotte. He is said to\nhave been a singularly bright and prepossessing boy. In a memoir in\nthe _Proceedings of the Institute of Civil Engineers_ (lvii. pp.\n294) we read:--\n\n     \"Travelling about the country, for the purpose of exhibiting his\n     son's powers, proved so agreeable and profitable to his father,\n     that the boy's education was entirely neglected. Fortunately,\n     however, amongst those who witnessed his public performances\n     were some gentlemen who thought they discerned qualities worthy\n     of a better career than that of a mere arithmetical prodigy.\n     The Rev. Thomas Jephson and the late Sir John Herschel visited\n     Moreton in the autumn of 1817, to see the 'Calculating Boy,'\n     and they were so much impressed by his talent and general\n     intelligence that before the vacation was over Mr. Jephson and\n     his Cambridge friends agreed to defray the expenses of his\n     education, and he was placed with the master of the grammar\n     school at Camberwell. There he remained for about a twelvemonth,\n     when his father insisted on removing him, for the purpose of\n     resuming the exhibition of his talents. Among other places, he\n     was taken to Edinburgh, where he attracted the notice of Sir\n     Henry Jardine, who, with the assistance of some friends, became\n     responsible for his education. Bidder was then placed with a\n     private tutor, and afterwards, in 1819, he attended the classes\n     at the University of Edinburgh.\"\n\nHe quitted Edinburgh in 1824, and was given a post in the Ordnance\nSurvey. In April, 1825, he quitted the Ordnance Survey and was\nengaged as assistant to Mr. H. R. Palmer, a civil engineer.\n\nIt is deserving of remembrance that George Bidder's first care when\nstarting in the world was to provide for the education of his two\nyounger brothers, and for that purpose this lad of eighteen stinted\nand saved, denying himself all but the barest necessities.\n\nIn 1833 he superintended the construction of the Blackwall Wharf,\nand in 1834 joined George and Robert Stephenson, whom he had known\nin Edinburgh.\n\nExperience showed him the importance of electric communication\nbetween stations; he introduced it on the Blackwall and Yarmouth\nrailways, and became one of the principal founders of the Electric\nTelegraph Company.\n\nIn hydraulic engineering his chief works were the construction of\nLowestoft Harbour and the Victoria Docks at North Woolwich.\n\n     \"Mr. Bidder took a distinguished part in the great parliamentary\n     contests which attended the establishment of railways. His\n     wonderful memory, his power of instantaneous calculation, his\n     quick perception and readiness at repartee, caused him to\n     be dreaded by hostile lawyers, one of whom made a fruitless\n     application before a committee in the House of Lords that Mr.\n     Bidder should not be allowed to remain in the room, because\n     'Nature,' he said, 'had endowed him with qualities that did not\n     place his opponents on a fair footing.'\n\n     \"A remarkable instance of Mr. Bidder's wonderful readiness\n     and power of mental numeration occurred in connexion with the\n     passing of the Act for the North Staffordshire Railway.\n\n     \"There were several competing lines, and the object of Mr.\n     Bidder's party was to get rid of as many as possible on Standing\n     Orders. They had challenged the accuracy of the levels of one of\n     the rival lines, but upon the examination before the Committee\n     on Standing Orders their opponents' witnesses were as positive\n     as those of the North Staffordshire, and apparently were likely\n     to command greater credence.\n\n     \"Fortunately Mr. Bidder was present, and when the surveyors of\n     the opposing lines were called to prove the levels at various\n     points he asked to see their field-books, which he looked at\n     apparently in the most cursory manner, and quietly put down\n     without making a note or any observation, and as though he\n     had seen nothing worthy of notice. When the surveyors had\n     completed their proofs Mr. Bidder, who had carried on in his\n     own mind a calculation of the heights noted in all the books,\n     not merely of the salient points upon which the witnesses had\n     been examined, but also of the intermediate rises and falls\n     noted in the several books, suddenly exclaimed that he would\n     demonstrate to the Committee that the section was wrong. He then\n     went rapidly through a calculation which took all by surprise,\n     and clearly proved that if the levels were as represented at one\n     point they could not possibly be as represented at another and\n     distant point. The result was that the errors in the levels were\n     reported, and the Bill was not allowed to proceed.\"[26]\n\n  [26] Obituary Notice in _Transactions of the Devonshire\n  Association_, 1879. See also that for 1886, pp. 309-15.\n\nSome of his extraordinary achievements have been reported, but they\nare somewhat doubtful. It will be best to quote only one that is\nwell authenticated from the _Proceedings of the Institute of Civil\nEngineers_ (lvii. 309).\n\n     \"On 26 September, 1878, being in his 73rd year, he was\n     conversing with a mathematical friend on the subject of Light,\n     when, it having been remarked that '36,918 pulses or waves of\n     light, which only occupy 1 inch in length, are requisite to\n     give the impression of red,' the friend 'suggested the query\n     that, taking the velocity of light at 190,000 miles per second,\n     how many of its waves must strike the eye and be registered in\n     one second to give the colour red, and, producing a pencil,\n     he was about to calculate the result, when Mr. Bidder said,\n     'You need not work it; the number of vibrations will be\n     444,433,651,200,000.'\"\n\nMr. Bidder died suddenly from disease of the heart on September\n20th, 1878, aged seventy-two years.\n\nMr. Bidder remembered many of the old stories of the moor told him\nby the blacksmith in whose forge he spent so many hours.\n\nI have given one in my chapter on Dartmoor and its tenants. Here is\nanother, as recorded by Miss Bidder, the daughter of Mr. George P.\nBidder.\n\nThere was a woman, and she lived at Brennan[27] on the moor. And\nshe had a baby. And one day she left her baby on the moor to play\nand pick \"urts\" (whortleberries), and she hasted to Moreton town.\nNow as she went she saw three ravens flying over her head from\nBlackiston. And she said, \"Where be you a goin' to, Ravens cruel?\"\nThey answered, \"Up to Brennan! up to Brennan!\" She had not gone far\nbefore she saw three more flying in the same direction. And again\nshe asked, \"Where be you a goin' to, Ravens cruel? \"And these three\nlikewise answered her, \"Up to Brennan! up to Brennan!\" Now when she\nhad gone somewhat further, and was drawing nigh to Moreton, again\nshe saw three ravens fly over her head, and for the third time she\nput the same question and received the same answer. When in the\nevening she returned to Brennan Moor, there no little baby's voice\nwelcomed her, for all that remained of her child was a heap of\nwell-picked white bones.\n\n  [27] _Bran_, pl. _bryny_, Cornish, a crow.\n\nBrennan is what is marked on the Ordnance Survey as Brinning, a\nlonely spot south of Moreton Hampstead, and between it and North\nBovey. It seems to me that the story needs but a touch, and it\nresolves itself into a ballad.\n\n\nBRENNAN MOOR.\n\n    Three ravens, they flew over Blackistone,\n        Down-a-down, hey and hey!\n    And loudly they laughed over Moreton town,\n        Over Moreton town,\n    Saying, Where and O where shall we dine to-day?\n    On the moor, for sure, where runneth no way.\n\n    As I sat a-swaying all in a tree,\n        Down-a-down, hey and hey!\n    I saw a sweet mother and her babie,\n        And her babie,\n    Saying, Sleep, O sleep. I'm to Moreton fair,\n    For Babie and me to buy trinkets rare.\n\n    As I was a-flying o'er Brennan Down,\n        Down-a-down, hey and hey!\n    I saw her a-wending her way to town,\n        Away to town.\n    Our dinners are ready, our feasting free,\n    Away to Brennan, black brothers, with me.\n\n    The babe upon Brennan, so cold and bare,\n        Down-a-down, hey and hey!\n    The mother a-gadding to Moreton fair,\n        To Moreton fair.\n    We'll laugh and we'll quaff the red blood free,\n    There is plenty for all of us, brothers three.\n\n    Three ravens flew over Blackistone,\n        Down-a-down, hey and hey!\n    And loudly they laughed over Moreton town,\n        Over Moreton town.\n    With an armful of toys, came mother, to none\n    Save a little white huddle of well-picked bone.\n\n[Illustration: GRIMSPOUND\n\nSCALE 120 FEET TO AN INCH]\n\nFrom Moreton an expedition may be made to Grimspound.\n\nThis is an enclosure, prehistoric, on the slope between Hookner Tor\nand Hameldon.\n\nThe circumference wall measures over 1500 feet, and was not for\ndefence against human foes, but served as a protection against\nwolves. Grimslake, a small stream that dries up only in very hot\nsummers, flows through the enclosure at its northern extremity. It\npasses under the wall, percolates through it for some way, and then\nemerges three-quarters of the way down.\n\nThe pound was constructed where it is for two reasons: one, to take\nadvantage of the outcrop of granite that divides the waterways, and\nwhich was largely exploited for the construction of the enclosure\nwall and of the huts within; and the other, so as to have the\nadvantage of the stream flowing through the pound.\n\nThe entrance is to the south-south-east, and is paved in steps.\nThere are twenty-one huts within the pound; most of these have been\nexplored, and have revealed cooking-holes, beds of stone, and in\nsome a flat stone in the centre, apparently for the support of the\ncentral pole sustaining the roof. Flints and rare potsherds have\nbeen recovered.\n\nThe most perfect of the huts has been railed round, and not filled\nin after clearing, that visitors may obtain some idea of these\nstructures in their original condition. This one has a sort of\nvestibule walled against the prevailing wind. On the hill-top above\nGrimspound, a little distance from the source of Grimslake, is a\ncairn surrounded by a ring of stones; it contains a kistvaen in\nthe centre. On the hill opposite, the _col_ between Birch Tor and\nChallacombe Common is a collection of stone rows leading to a menhir.\n\nBy ascending Hameldon, and walking along the ridge due south, the\nGreat Central Trackway is crossed, in very good condition, and a\ncross stands beyond it.\n\nOn the left-hand side of the road under Shapley Tor, above a little\nhollow and stream, before reaching the main road from Tavistock to\nMoreton, may be seen a remarkably fine hut circle composed of very\nlarge slabs of stone. On Watern Hill, at the back of the \"Warren\nInn,\" or to be more exact, on that portion called Chagford Common,\nare two double rows of upright stones leading from a cairn and small\nmenhir. The stones are small, but the rows are very perfect.\n\nThe Central Trackway to which I have alluded is a paved causeway,\nthe continuation of the Fosseway. It runs across Dartmoor. It can\nbe traced from Wray Barton, in Moreton Hampstead, where it crosses\nthe railway and the Moreton and Newton road. Thence a lane runs\non it to a cross-road; this it traverses, and is continued as a\npracticable road by Langstone--where, as the name implies, there\nwas once a menhir--by Ford to Heytree, where is a cluster of hut\ncircles. Then it ascends Hameldon by Berry Pound, and becomes quite\ndistinct. From the cross on Hameldon it descends into the valley,\nmounts Challacombe, and aims across the upper waters of the Webburn\nfor Merripit; on the marshy ground above the little field planted\nround with beech at Post Bridge it can be seen. Road-menders have\nbroken up a portion of it, thus exposing a section. It traverses the\nEast Dart, and can be distinctly traced above Archerton, whence it\naims for Lower White Tor. It has been thought to be distinguished on\nMis Tor, and striking for Cox Tor, but I mistrust this portion, and\nam inclined to think that the old Lych Way is its continuation from\nLidaford Tor, where it disappears. The Lych Way, or Corpse Road, is\nthat by which the dead were borne to burial at Lydford, till licence\nwas granted by Bishop Bronescombe in 1260 to such people on the moor\nas were distant from their parish church, to recur to Widecombe\nfor their baptisms and interments. The Lych Way is still much used\nfor bringing in turf, and for the driving out and back of cattle.\nThe paved causeway is fine, but in parts it has been resolved by\ncenturies of use to a deep-cut furrow. It was said formerly that of\na night ghostly trains of mourners might be seen flitting along it.\n\nThere are extensive, and in some cases very ancient, stream works\nat the head of the two Web-burns. Chaw Gully is an early effort in\nmining. The rocks were not blasted, but cut by driving wedges or\ncutting grooves into the stone, then filling the holes with lime and\npouring water over the quicklime, when the expansion split the rock.\n\nGreat quantities of tin have been extracted from these rude works;\nhow early and how late these are none can say. The same heaps have\nbeen turned and turned again.\n\nThere are good screens in the churches of Bridford, Manaton,\nLustleigh--where is also an inscribed stone--Bovey Tracey, and North\nBovey; and beautiful scenery in Lustleigh Cleave and about Manaton.\n\nBowerman's Nose is a singular core of hard granite, left standing\non a hillside in the midst of a \"clitter.\" The way in which it was\nfashioned has been already described.\n\nThe valley of the Teign is beautiful throughout; it deserves a visit\nboth above and below Dunsford Bridge. Fingle has been spoken of in\nthe chapter devoted to Exeter. Below Dunsford the river should be\nleft to ascend a picturesque combe to Bridford, in order to visit\nthe very fine screen and pulpit.\n\nChristow Church is good, and there is in the porch a stone, on which\nis inscribed, \"Nathaniel Busell, aet. 48 yeers, clark heere, dyed\n19th Feb., 1631.\" Tradition asserts that he was shot where he lies\nburied by the soldiers of the Parliament, who desired to enter and\ndeface the church; but Busell refused to deliver up the keys. In the\nchurchyard are some stately yews.\n\nAshton possesses a screen with paintings on it in admirable\npreservation. Here was the seat of the family of that name from\nwhich came Sir George, who, after the battle of Stratton, passed\nover from the side of the Parliament to that of the king. Hence also\nsprang the notorious Duchess of Kingston, the lovely Miss Chudleigh,\nwho was tried for bigamy in Westminster Hall by the peers in 1776,\nand who was the original from whom Thackeray drew his detailed\nportrait of Beatrice Esmond, both as young Trix and as the old\nBaroness Bernstein. She has had hard measure dealt out to her, and\ncruellest of all was that John Dunning, a native of her own part of\nDevon, should have acted in the prosecution against her and insulted\nher before the peers, so as to wring tears from her eyes. There can\nbe no question but that when she married the Duke of Kingston she\nbelieved that her former clandestine marriage was invalid.[28]\n\n  [28] I have told her story in my _Historic Oddities and Strange\n  Events_. Methuen, 1889.\n\nFurther down the Teign, in a beautiful situation, is Canonteign,\nan old mansion of the Davie family, well preserved. Hence Hennock\nmay be visited, lying high on the ridge between the Bovey and the\nTeign. Of this place Murray in his _Handbook_ told the following\nstory:--\"It is said that when a vicar of Hennock, one Anthony\nLovitt, died, his son, of the same name, took his place, although\nnot in orders. The parishioners made no objections, and it was not\nuntil some years afterwards, when he tried to raise their tithes,\nthat they denounced him, thinking that, 'if they were to pay all\nthat money they might as well have a real parson.'\" The story,\nhowever, is not true. There _was_ a vicar, Anthony Loveys, and he\nhad a son of the same name whom he appointed parish clerk, and the\nsecond Anthony remained on as clerk after his father's death and the\nappointment of a new vicar. The name continues in the place, and has\nbecome that of a yeoman family. There was a very locally-famous\nparson of Hennock, named Harris, not yet forgotten. He was a wizard.\nThose who had lost goods went to him, and he recovered them for the\ntrue owners. One day Farmer Loveys went to him. \"Pass'n,\" said he,\n\"last night my fine gander was stolen. How can 'y help me?\"\n\nSo Parson Harris went to his books, drew a circle, muttered some\nwords, then opened his window, and in through the casement came the\ngander, plucked, trussed, and on the spit, and fell at his feet.\n\nOn another occasion someone else came to him with a similar\ncomplaint, only on this occasion several geese had been carried off.\n\n\"You be aisy,\" said the vicar. \"The man as has a done this shall be\nput to open shame.\" So next Sunday, when he got up in the pulpit,\nhe proclaimed:--\"I give you all to know that Farmer Tuckett has had\nthree geese stolen. Now I've read my books and drawn my figures,\nand I have so conjured that three feathers of thickey geese shall\nnow--this instant--stick to the nose of the thief.\"\n\nUp went the hand of one in the congregation to his nose. At once\nParson Harris saw the movement, pointed to him, and thundered forth,\n\"There is the man as stole the geese.\"\n\nHis maid, Polly, had a lover, as the manner of maids is. The young\nman took service in Exeter. Polly was inconsolable. He left on\nSaturday, and the girl did nothing but sob all day. \"You be easy,\nPolly,\" said her master; \"I'll conjure him home to you.\"\n\nSo he began his abracadabra, but Sunday came and Sunday passed, and\nno John appeared. Polly went to bed much shaken in her belief in the\npowers of the master.\n\nHowever, about the first glimmer of dawn there came a clatter of\nfeet and a rapping at the door, and lo! outside was John, in his\nbest suit, except the coat, bathed in perspiration and out of\nbreath. The spell had not taken effect on him all day because he had\nworn his best coat _with the Prayer Book in the pocket_. But so soon\nas ever at night he took off his coat, then it operated, and he had\nrun all the way from Exeter to Hennock.\n\nAt Hennock are Bottor Rocks and also those of John Cann. A path at\nthe side is called \"John Cann's path.\" John Cann is said to have\nbeen a staunch Royalist, who was hunted by the Round-heads. He took\nrefuge among these rocks, to which provisions were secretly conveyed\nfor his use, and there he secreted his treasure. The \"path\" was worn\nby his pacing at night. He was finally tracked to his hiding-place\nby bloodhounds, taken and hanged, but his treasure, the secret of\nwhich he would not reveal, lies concealed among the rocks, and a\nlittle blue flame is thought to dance along the track and hover over\nthe place where lies the gold.\n\nLustleigh Cleave is a fine rocky valley, so strewn with rocks\nthat the river for a considerable distance worms its way beneath,\nunseen. From hence an ascent may be made to Becky Falls, a dribble\nexcept in very wet weather, and higher still to Manaton and to Hey\nTor Rocks, bold masses of hard granite. More picturesque, though\nnot so massive, are Hound Tor Rocks, that take their name from the\nextraordinary shapes, as of dogs' heads formed by the granite spires\nand projections.\n\nWidecombe is a valley shut in by moor; where the people are much\nof a law to themselves, having no resident manorial lords over\nthem, and having no neighbours. A sturdy and headstrong race has\ngrown up there, doing what is right in their own eyes, and somewhat\nindifferent to the opinions and feelings of the outer world. In\nwinter they are as much closed in as was Noah in the ark.\n\nThis was the scene of a terrible thunderstorm, a record of which\nis preserved in the church. Mr. Blackmore has worked it into his\nnovel of _Christowel_. The tower is very fine, but the church\ndoes not come up to one's expectations. Widecombe is walled up to\nheaven on the west by Hameldon, and the morning sun is excluded by\na bold chain of tors on the east. It was for the purpose of going\nto Widecombe Fair that Tom Pearse was induced to lend his old mare,\nwhich is the topic of the most popular of Devonshire songs.\n\n    \"Tom Pearse, Tom Pearse, lend me your grey mare,\n      All along, down along, out along, lee.\n    For I want for to go to Widecombe Fair,\n      Wi' Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan'l Whiddon,\n      Harry Hawk, old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all.\"\n\n        _Chorus._--Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all.\n\n    \"And when shall I see again my grey mare?\"\n      All along, etc.\n    \"By Friday soon, or Saturday noon,\n      Wi' Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer,\" etc.\n\n    Then Friday came, and Saturday noon,\n      All along, etc.\n    But Tom Pearse's old mare hath not trotted home,\n      Wi' Bill Brewer, etc.\n\n    So Tom Pearse he got up to the top o' the hill,\n      All along, etc.\n    And he seed his old mare down a making her will\n      Wi' Bill Brewer, etc.\n\n    So Tom Pearse's old mare, her took sick and died,\n      All along, etc.\n    And Tom he sat down on a stone, and he cried\n      Wi' Bill Brewer, etc.\n\n    But this isn't the end o' this shocking affair,\n      All along, etc.\n    Nor, though they be dead, of the horrid career\n      Of Bill Brewer, etc.\n\n    When the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night,\n      All along, etc.\n    Tom Pearse's old mare doth appear, gashly white,\n      Wi' Bill Brewer, etc.\n\n    And all the long night be heard skirling and groans,\n      All along, etc.\n    From Tom Pearse's old mare in her rattling bones,\n      And from Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy,\n            Dan'l Whiddon,\n      Harry Hawk, old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all.\n\n        _Chorus._--Old Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nASHBURTON\n\n     Ashburton manors--The Ashburn--The cloth-workers--The\n     tucking-mills--County families sprung from the woollen\n     trade--Introduction of machinery--John Dunning--Created\n     Baron Ashburton--Wood-carving in Ashburton--The Oldham\n     owl--Screen destroyed--Ilsington--The Pomeroys--Holne--Dean\n     Prior and Herrick--Abbey of Buckfast--A foundation of S.\n     Petrock--Staverton Church--Screens in Devon--Dr. Blackall's\n     Drive--Holne Chase--Bovey Tracey--William de Tracy--Chudleigh.\n\n\nA pleasant, sleepy, country town, hardly able to maintain its\nold-world dignity against the ruffling, modern, manufacturing\nBuckfastleigh. A pleasant centre, whence delightful excursions may\nbe made, and with an old-world aroma about it, as though preserved\nin _pot-pourri_.\n\nIt has a beautiful church. Ashburton consisted of a royal and an\nepiscopal manor, each with its several municipal officers. A stream\ndivided the manors. Ashburton is the _tun_ on the Ashburn. _Ash_ is\nbut another form of _Exe_, from _usk_, water. It owed its growth\nand prosperity to the wool trade. The proximity to Dartmoor, an\nunrivalled run for sheep, and the water of the stream to turn the\nmills, gave to Ashburton a great significance as a centre of cloth\nmanufacture. Added to which it was a stannary town.\n\nThe old chapel of S. Laurence in the town, now converted into a\ngrammar school, belonged to the guild of the cloth-workers, and\ntheir seal became the arms of the borough: On a mount vert, a chapel\nwith spire, in dexter chief the sun in splendour, in sinister a\ncrescent moon, in dexter base a teasel, in sinister a saltire. The\nteasel and sun and moon were emblematical of the chief staples of\nthe place; the woollen trade and the mining interests.\n\nThe old fulling-mills were locally termed tucking-mills, and the\nextent to which cloth-working was carried on in South Devon is shown\nby the prevalence of the surname Tucker.[29]\n\n  [29] For what follows on the woollen trade I am greatly indebted to\n  a paper by Mr. P. F. S. Amery in the _Transactions of the Devonshire\n  Association_, 1879.\n\nThe process of manufacture given by Westcote, in 1630, is as\nfollows:--\n\n     \"First, the gentleman farmer, or husbandman, sends his wool to\n     the market, which is bought either by the comber or spinster,\n     and they, the next week, bring it hither again in yarn, which\n     the weaver buys, and the market following brings that hither\n     again in cloth, when it is sold, either to the clothier,\n     who sends it to London, or to the merchant, who, after it\n     hath passed the fuller's mill, and sometimes the dyer's vat,\n     transports it. The large quantities whereof cannot be well\n     guessed, but best known to the custom-book, whereunto it yields\n     no small commodity, and this is continued all the year through.\"\n\nThe clothier was a man of some means, that bought the yarn or\n_abb_ in the Tuesday's market from Cornish and Tavistock spinners,\nwho kept this branch of the trade pretty much to themselves. The\nworsted was spun into \"tops\"--and the name Toop is common now in the\nneighbourhood. Tops, the combed wool so called by poor cottagers,\nwas made by them into chains to form the warp or framework of the\nfabric.\n\nOne day a week the serge-maker assumed a long apron and met his\nweavers, the poor folk of the neighbourhood, who frequently hired\ntheir looms from him, paying him a shilling quarterly. He served out\nto them the proper proportions of _abb_ and worsted, with a certain\nquantity of glue to size the chain before tying it to the loom. This\nthey took home with them, and wove at leisure, returning it the\nfollowing week and receiving the price of their labour.\n\nThese serges were then fulled at the borough tucking-mill. This was\nsupplied with a water-wheel that gave motion to the tree or spindle,\nwhose teeth communicated it to the stampers, which were made to\nrise and fall. The stampers or pestles worked in troughs in which\nwas laid the stuff that was intended to be fulled. The cloth had\nalready been saturated in various unsavoury liquids to prepare it\nfor the stampers. For raising the nap after dying the dipsacus, or\ncommon teasel, was extensively grown. The heads were fixed round the\ncircumference of a large, broad wheel which was made to revolve, and\nthe cloth was held against it.\n\nThe cloths were then ready.\n\nIt is evident that no large capital was needed in this mode of doing\nbusiness; the clothier had no operatives to look after, and only\na small portion of his time was occupied in his business. A day\nset apart to \"tend\" his weavers, and an hour in the yarn market on\nTuesdays was about all that was regularly required of him. Yet the\nbusiness done was large, and he expended his capital in purchasing\nland, in enclosing commons, and in starting tanneries, above all in\nacting as banker to the neighbourhood.\n\nIt is really surprising to see how many of the notable heraldic\nfamilies of Devon rose from being clothiers. But then the serges\nof the West were in request not in England only, but also abroad.\nWestcote says:--\n\n     \"The stuff of serges or perpetuanos is now in great use and\n     request with us, wherewith the market at Exeter is abundantly\n     furnished of all sorts and prices; the number will hardly be\n     credited. Tiverton hath also such a store in kersies as will\n     not be believed. Crediton yields many of the finest sorts of\n     kersies. Totnes and some places near it hath had besides these\n     a sort of coarse cloth, which they call _narrow-pin-whites_,\n     not elsewhere made. Barnstaple and Torrington furnish us with\n     bays, single and double frizados. At Tavistock there is a good\n     market. Ottery St. Mary hath mixed kersies; Cullompton, kersey\n     stockings.\"\n\nThe introduction of worsted spinning-frames in the North of England\nearly in the present century revolutionised the trade, and in 1817\nMr. Caunter started the first worsted spinning-frames in Ashburton,\ncharging 10_d._ a pound for spinning. For a while he held the\nmonopoly. But the Dart was now called into requisition at Buckfast,\nand on the site and out of the materials of the abbey a spinning\nfactory was established.\n\n     \"The next great change,\" says Mr. Amery, \"was brought about by\n     the fact that all the weaving was carried on in the houses of\n     the poor. Perhaps in a social point of view it was a good thing,\n     as the mother was always occupied at home, and had her eye on\n     the family; but to the manufacturer it was bad, as the materials\n     entrusted by him to the weaver were open to great peculations,\n     for weavers could always supply themselves with yarn or _abb_\n     sufficient to provide their families with stockings, and joiners\n     could purchase the best glue at half price in the little shops,\n     where it had been bartered for small goods. So great was the\n     loss of yarn, worsted, and glue, and so various were the means\n     taken to make up the short weight by the use of oil, water,\n     etc., that a remedy was sought and found in the expedient of\n     erecting large factories, fitted with the newest _spring looms_;\n     here the weavers came and worked, and nothing was allowed to be\n     carried off the premises.\"\n\nMore wool is now worked up by the aid of the power-looms and combing\nmachines at Ashburton and Buckfastleigh than in the old prosperous\ntimes.\n\n[Illustration: J. DUNNING, FIRST LORD ASHBURTON]\n\nAshburton's most distinguished son was John Dunning, first Baron\nAshburton. He belonged to a respectable family, originally seated\nin Walkhampton parish, which, though not bearing an armorial coat,\nwas yet above the class of yeomen. His father, John Dunning, settled\nas an attorney at Ashburton, where the future Lord Ashburton was\nborn in 1731.[30] John Dunning the elder had as one of his clients\nSir Thomas Clarke, Master of the Rolls, who owned a good deal\nof property about Ashburton. A legal instrument drawn up by the\nyoung Dunning when only nineteen, and sent to Sir Thomas, struck\nthe Master of the Rolls as being so well done that he undertook\nthe charge of fitting him for a career at the bar; and under this\npatron's auspices young Dunning, in the twenty-first year of his\nage, entered the Middle Temple in 1752.\n\n  [30] For a memoir of John Dunning, see that by Mr. R. DYMOND, in the\n  _Transactions of the Devonshire Association_, 1876.\n\nIt was whilst keeping his terms that Dunning made acquaintance\nwith Horne Tooke, who addressed to him in 1778 his _Letter on the\nEnglish Particle_, which was later expanded into _The Diversions of\nPurley_. After four years of study Dunning was called to the bar,\nand for five weary years after that his prospects remained in a most\nunpromising condition. He was a very ugly man, stunted in growth,\nhis limbs misshapen, and his features mean. Horne Tooke used to tell\na story illustrative of his personal appearance. On one occasion\nThurlow wished to see him privately, and going to the coffee-house\nhe frequented, asked the waiter if Mr. Dunning were there. The\nwaiter, who was new to the place, said he did not know him. \"Not\nknow him!\" exclaimed Thurlow with his usual volley of oaths. \"Go\ninto the room upstairs, and if you see a gentleman like the knave\nof clubs, call him down.\" The waiter departed, and returned with\nDunning.\n\nOn one occasion he was retained in an assault case, and his object\nwas to disprove the identity of the person named by an old woman as\nthe aggressor. Abandoning his usual overbearing demeanour towards\nwitnesses, he commenced his cross-examination thus, mildly:--\n\n\"Pray, my good woman, what sized man was he?\"\n\n\"Short and stumpy, sir; almost as small as your honour.\"\n\n\"Humph! What sort of a nose had he?\"\n\n\"Well now, what I should ca' a snubby nose, like your own, sir, only\nnot quite so cocked up like.\"\n\n\"Humph! His eyes?\"\n\n\"He'd gotten a bit o' a cast in 'em, sir, like your honour's squint.\"\n\n\"Go down, woman. That will do.\"\n\nPresently affairs took a turn. Dunning worked his way into notice\nby adopting violent radical or democratical views, and became the\nfriend of the notorious Wilkes, who also had a squint, and he acted\nas junior counsel in the famous prosecution of the publishers of No.\n45 of the _North Briton_, which contained strictures on the speech\nfrom the throne, at the close of the session of 1763. It was in this\ncase that Dunning firmly established his reputation as a close and\nsubtle reasoner, and he could ever calculate on being employed by\nhis party. From this date no member of the bar obtained a larger\nnumber of briefs. I have already told, in my _Old Country Life_, a\nstory illustrative of the way in which he managed the defence of a\nman on trial for murder. In 1766 he won the recordership of Bristol,\nhe was appointed Solicitor-General in 1767, and in the general\nelection of 1768 he was elected member for Caine.\n\n\"Among the new accessions to the House of Commons at this\njuncture,\" writes Lord Mahon, \"by far the most eminent in ability\nwas John Dunning.... He was a man both of quick parts and strong\npassions; in his politics a zealous Whig. As an orator, none ever\nlaboured under greater disadvantages of voice and manner; but these\ndisadvantages were most successfully retrieved by his wondrous\npowers of reasoning, his keen invective, and his ready wit. At\nthe trial of the Duchess of Kingston for bigamy, when he appeared\nas counsel against her Grace, Hannah More, who was present, thus\ndescribes him: 'His manner is insufferably bad, coughing and\nspitting at every word, but his sense and expression pointed to the\nlast degree. He made her Grace shed bitter tears.'\" The mode in\nwhich he used his hands was absurd as it was peculiar. He drew them\nwhilst speaking up close together to the height of his breast, where\nhe rested his wrists, and kept up a continual paddling with his\noutspread palms, moving them with a rapidity corresponding to the\nmotion of his tongue. It was said that he looked on such occasions\nlike a flat fish hung up in a fishmonger's shop, the body rigid, but\nthe fins in front vibrating up and down unceasingly.\n\nIn 1769 Dunning bought the manors of Spitchwick and Widecombe.\n\"Manors in Devonshire!\" exclaimed Jack Lee. \"A pity, Dunning, you\nshould have them there, and should bring no manners with you to\nWestminster.\"\n\nIn 1770 he resigned his position as Solicitor-General, and resumed\nhis old position outside the bar, but with a professional income\nestimated at the then unprecedented sum of \u00a310,000 per annum.\n\nHe was now on the Opposition benches in the House. In the hot\ndebates on the American War, Dunning steadfastly advocated a policy\nof conciliation. An instance of Dunning's sharpness of repartee\nwas afforded when Chatham moved an address to the Crown in favour\nof this policy. The motion was upheld by Lords Shelburne, Camden,\nand Rockingham, and they were supported by the vote of the Duke of\nCumberland. His Royal Highness was one day complimenting Dr. Price\non a pamphlet he had written in favour of the Americans. \"I sat up\nreading it last night,\" said he, \"till it had almost blinded me.\"\n\"On the rest of the nation, your Royal Highness,\" said Dunning, who\nstood by, \"the pamphlet has had the opposite effect. It has opened\ntheir eyes.\"\n\nJohn Dunning was nearly fifty years old when he married. His choice\nwas Elizabeth Baring, daughter of John Baring, of Larkbeare, one of\nthe many woollen merchants then flourishing in Exeter, and sister of\nthe founders of the great house of Baring Brothers. He was married\nto her in 1780.\n\nHis honeymoon must have been short, for exactly one week after\nhis marriage Dunning brought forward in Committee of the House of\nCommons his famous motion, \"That it is the opinion of this Committee\nthat the influence of the Crown has increased, is increasing, and\nought to be diminished.\" After a fierce debate he succeeded in\ncarrying his motion by a majority of eighteen.\n\nOn the 15th March, 1782, a motion of want of confidence, though\nnegatived by a majority of nine, proved fatal to the Administration,\nand the Premier resigned. Then, after twelve years passed in \"the\ncold shade of opposition,\" the Whigs were again in power; and one\nof the first steps taken by the Marquess of Rockingham, who now\nbecame Prime Minister, was to reward John Dunning with a coronet.\nHis patent of nobility bore date April 8th, 1782, and thus the\nmisshapen but clever son of the little Ashburton attorney became the\nfirst Baron Ashburton. None when in opposition had denounced more\nvigorously, and with greater display of righteous indignation, the\nbestowal of pensions on a large scale; but no sooner had he passed\nout of the Opposition into place than he exacted for himself the\nenormous pension of \u00a34000 per annum, a sum to him quite unnecessary,\nas he had amassed a huge fortune.\n\nBy this time, however, his health had begun to fail, and he died\non August 18th, 1783, of paralysis, leaving a son, Richard Barr\u00e9\nDunning, to succeed him in the title, and to inherit a fortune of\n\u00a3180,000. The second Lord Ashburton married a daughter of William\nCunninghame, of Lambshaw, and through her became allied with the\nCranstoun family, to whom a large portion of his ample possessions\npassed at his death without issue in 1823.\n\nAshburton, in the Tudor period, seems to have possessed a school of\nwood-carving. The Churchwardens' Book shows that much work was done\nin the church between 1515 and 1525. An Exeter man named John Mayne\nwas then employed in wood-carving, but there were Ashburton workmen\nas well. There was then erected a very fine screen. The rood-loft\nwas removed in 1539, but not the screen itself till last century,\nwhen portions of it became the property of private persons, and\nothers were laid as foundations to the galleries.\n\nThe side chapels seem also to have been screened in; and there\nwas one Thomas Prideaux who was a liberal contributor to the\nbeautification of the church. In one of the side chapels was a rich,\ncanopied altar-piece with wings. When the chantries and chapels were\ndestroyed, this was carried away by the son, Robert Prideaux, and\nemployed for the decoration of his room. The central piece of the\ntriptych has been lost, but the wings and the canopy remain. Some of\nthe wood-carving of Henry the Seventh's reign in and about Ashburton\nis of the very finest quality, quite unsurpassed in its style. Work\nby apparently the same hand may be seen at Fulford in the hall.\n\nIn Ashburton stands a quaint slated house-front with the pips on\ncards cut in slate ornamenting the front. The old ring to which the\nbull was attached for baiting still remains where was the ancient\nbull-ring of the town. Ashburton was, as already said, originally\ncomposed of two manors--one royal, the other episcopal--and each\nhad its portreeve. The King's Bridge united them, and the river\ndivided one from the other. This was a relic of pre-Saxon times,\nwhen the chief of the land and the ecclesiastical chief had their\nseparate establishments. At a later period Ashburton passed wholly\ninto the hands of the Bishop of Exeter. Bishop Oldham, 1504-1519,\nwas a benefactor to the church, and gave it a lectern with an owl,\nhis symbol, supporting the desk. This owl was sold to Bigbury, along\nwith the handsome pulpit. Holne pulpit is very similar to that\nformerly in Ashburton.\n\n[Illustration: OLD OAK CARVING, ASHBURTON]\n\nThe church of Ashburton has been renovated, and is now very\nstately and beautiful. It is to be regretted that the architect,\nthe late Mr. Street, was superior to restoring the screen from\nthe fragments that remained, and instead evolved one out of his\ninner consciousness, quite out of character with the church, and\nentirely different in feeling from the work common throughout the\nneighbourhood, which is exquisite in beauty of design and in detail.\nBut such is the way with architects. The Arlers of Gm\u00fcnd designed\nMilan Cathedral, but were not allowed to complete it; it was given\nto sixteen different Italian architects to meddle with and to muddle\nit; the result is that the exterior is a bit of miserable frippery\nin marble. Happily the original design for the interior was not\ninterfered with.\n\nBut something incomparably worse may be seen near Ashburton, in the\ninterior of Bickington.\n\nIlsington Church retains a few poppy-head benches of rich work,\nunique in the county.\n\nIn Ilsington is Ingsdon, once the seat of the Pomeroy family, but\nno relics of the ancient house remain. According to tradition, the\nPomeroy ancestor was jester to Robert the Magnificent, father of\nWilliam the Conqueror. He was a dwarf, full of comical movements as\nwell as of quips and quirks. As he came in with the dessert he was\ncalled Pomme-roy, the Apple King. His son became a faithful servant\nof William, and was rewarded by him with large manors in Devon and\nSomersetshire. A junior branch was settled at Ingsdon. The tradition\nis of course groundless, as the family derived from a place Pomeraye\nin Normandy, near Bayeux. It probably originated with a family\ntendency to jest, and to a certain grotesqueness of appearance.\nIt is told by Miss Strickland in her _History of the Queens of\nEngland_. But the odd circumstance about it is that there are\nPomeroys now in and about Ashburton of humble degree--the children,\nthe plague of the schoolmaster and mistresses, as they are born\nhumourists, and withal have such a droll appearance and expression\nas to inevitably provoke mirth.\n\nHolne Church has a good painted screen, and the parsonage is the\nhouse in which Charles Kingsley was born. The view of the winding of\nthe Dart from the parsonage garden is beautiful.\n\nDean Prior was long the place to which poor Robert Herrick was\nbanished. He did not love it, nor did he relish the rude ways of\nhis parishioners. It is to be feared he did not labour very hard to\nbetter them. He was buried here in the churchyard in 1674. Here also\nwas laid his servant \"Prue,\" recorded in his poems. Her burial is\nentered in the register as that of \"Prudence Balden, an olde maid,\"\nand Herrick's trust that the violet might blossom on her grave is\nperhaps not unfulfilled, although her grassy mound is not now known.\n\nThe Abbey of Buckfast is within an easy walk, and should on all\naccounts be visited. It is the earliest foundation in Devon, going\nback to long before the Conquest, in fact no documents exist to show\nwhen it was founded. \"Mr. Brooking Rowe has suggested that Buckfast\nAbbey probably existed before the coming of the Northmen; that would\nbe before A.D. 787. It may be so, but, at least, it must be grouped\nwith Bodmin and Glastonbury Abbey as one of a trio of monastic\nchurches which had property in Devon before King Edgar's time,\nand is probably, with the exception of Exeter, the only monastery\nbefore that time existing in the county. Its extreme antiquity may\nbe inferred from the fact that Buckfast itself was never assessed.\"\nThat is, at the taking of Domesday.\n\nNow I have an idea concerning it. Two of its churches were Harford\nand South Brent, and both are dedicated to S. Petrock. We find S.\nPetrock again, further down the Dart, at its mouth. Where we find\na Celtic dedication, there we may be pretty certain that either\nthe saint founded the church, or that it was given to him, not\nnecessarily in his lifetime.\n\nIn Celtic monasteries, when a grant was made, it was not made\nto the community, but to the saint personally, who was supposed\nnever to die, and all the lands and churches granted became his\npersonal property. Now, as we find two of the churches belonging\nto this venerable abbey bearing S. Petrock's name, I think it\nquite possible that the original abbey may have been, like that\nof Padstow, a foundation of S. Petrock. When, however, the abbey\nwas re-endowed and recast, and occupied by monks belonging to the\nLatin orders, S. Petrock would be ignored at Buckfast, and the\nonly indication left of his having once owned the whole territory\nof Buckfast would be the lingering on of his name in some of the\nchurches that belonged to that same territory.\n\nI am not sure that we have not hard by traces of other Celtic\nsaints, S. Wulvella in Gulwell, a Holywell at Ashburton, and her\nbrother S. Paul of Leon at Staverton, though now supplanted by Paul\nthe Apostle.\n\nBuckfast Abbey, after having been given over to the wreckers,\nhas been purchased by French Benedictines, expelled from France\nin 1882, and they are carefully rebuilding the abbey on its old\nlines, following all the details as turned up among the ruins. The\nfoundations of the church have been uncovered, and show that it\nwas of great size. It was pulled down in 1806, and the materials\nemployed in the construction of a factory.\n\nStaverton Church is deserving a visit because of its superb screen,\nthat has been most carefully restored. It exhibits a screen complete\nin all its parts, a thing very rare. Most of these lack what was\ntheir crowning glory, the upper member. Indeed there is but one\ncompletely intact in the county--Atherington, if we except the stone\nscreen at Exeter.\n\nThere are other screens in the neighbourhood; that of Buckland has\non it some unexplained paintings.\n\nThe Celt was never a builder. His churches were rude to the last\ndegree of rudeness. But what he delighted in was wattle-work,\ninterlacing osiers into the most intricate and beautiful and varied\ndesigns. We may conjecture that our Celtic forefathers did not\nconcern themselves much about the stonework of their churches, and\nconcentrated all their efforts on a screen dividing chancel from\nnave, which with platting and interweaving they made into a miracle\nof loveliness. And this direction given to decoration hung on in\nDevon and Cornwall, and resulted in the glorious screens. For them,\nto contain them, the shells were built. Everything was sacrificed\nto them, and when they are swept away what remains is nakedness,\ndisproportion, and desolation.\n\nOf the excursions in the neighbourhood of Ashburton to scenes of\nloveliness I will say but little. Yet let me recommend one of\nsingular beauty--it is called Dr. Blackall's Drive. The Tavistock\nroad is taken till the Dart is passed at New Bridge, then after a\nsteep ascent the highway is abandoned before Pound Gate is reached,\nand a turf drive runs above the Dart commanding its gorge, the Holne\ncoppice, and Benjie Tor, and the high road is rejoined between Bell\nTor and Sharp Tor. This excursion may be combined with a drive\nthrough Holne Chase, if taken on a day when the latter is open to\nthe public.\n\nHolne Chase, however, should be seen from both sides of the Dart, as\nthe aspects are very different on the two sides.\n\nHembury and Holne Chase camps are both fine, and deserve\ninvestigation. They commanded and defended the entrance to the moor\nfrom this side. Widecombe has been spoken of under the head of\nMoreton.\n\nBovey should be visited, with its fine church and screen and painted\nand gilt stone pulpit, and with the Bovey Heathfield potteries.\n\nBovey was one of the manors of the De Tracy who was a principal\nhand in the murder of Thomas \u00e0 Becket, and it is to this ambitious\nand turbulent prelate that the church is dedicated. The story goes\nthat William de Tracy built the church at Bovey as penance for his\npart in the murder; but the church constructed by him was burnt\nabout 1300, and was rebuilt in the Perpendicular style. The story\nwas diligently propagated that De Tracy died on his way to the Holy\nLand, in a frenzy, tearing his flesh off his bones with his teeth\nand nails, and shrieking, \"Mercy, Thomas, mercy!\" But, as a matter\nof fact, no judgment of God fell on the murderers. Within four\nyears after the murder, De Tracy was justiciary of Normandy. The\npresent Lord Wemyss and Lord Sudeley are his lineal descendants.\nThe pedigree, contrary to all received opinions on the subject of\n\"judgments\" on sacrilege, exhibits the very singular instance of an\nestate descending for upwards of seven hundred years in the male\nline of the same family. Fitzurse, another of the murderers, went to\nIreland, and became the ancestor of the McMahon family.\n\nThere are some curious pictures on the Bovey screen which are\nsupposed to have reference to the story of Becket and his quarrels\nwith the king.\n\nChudleigh is at some distance, but it is worth a visit, partly\nbecause of the good screen in the church, but mainly because of the\nvery pretty ravine through which the Kate (_Cad_, fall) tumbles.\nThe rock here is of limestone, a fine and beautiful marble, and in\nits face is a cavern supposed to be haunted by the Pixies, with\na stalagmite floor that was broken up by Dr. Buckland in 1825,\nand the soil beneath it examined in the slip-shod, happy-go-lucky\nstyle usual with explorers of that period. It deserves to be\nreinvestigated systematically.\n\n     NOTE.--Books and articles on Ashburton:--\n\n     WORTHY (C.), _Ashburton and its Neighbourhood_. Ashburton, 1875.\n\n     AMERY (P. F. S.), Articles already noticed in the _Transactions\n     of the Devonshire Association_, 1876 and 1896.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nTAVISTOCK\n\n     Origin of Tavistock--Foundation of the Abbey--S.\n     Rumon--Edgar and Elfrida--Abbot Aylmer--Aldred--The Parish\n     Church--Glanville--The Story of Mrs. Page--John Fitz--The\n     Story of Sir John Fitz--The Story of Lady Howard--Sir Richard\n     Grenville--Early inscribed stones--Statue of Sir Francis\n     Drake--Buckland Abbey--Morwell--Lydford, its castle, ravine, and\n     waterfall--Brent Tor--Endsleigh--Mary and Peter Tavy--Whit Tor.\n\n\nCertain towns tell you at a glance what was their _raison d'\u00eatre_;\nTavistock has clustered about its abbey, that lay low near its\nfish-ponds, whereas Launceston clings about its castle, that stood\nhigh to command the country round.\n\nVery possibly the original Saxon stockade was where still some\nearthworks remain, above the South Western Railway, but the centre\nof life moved thence on account of the fancy coming into the head\nof Ordulf, Earl of Devon, to found an abbey by the waterside in the\nvalley beneath him. The legend, as told in a cartulary summarised\nin Dugdale's _Monasticon_, is that, in the reign of Edgar, Ordulf\nwas one night praying in the open air, when he saw a pillar of fire\nbrighter than the sun at noon hovering where now anyone, on any day,\nmay see a lowering cloud of smoke. That same night an angel bade\nhim go forth at dawn and explore the spot where he had seen the\nfire, and then build an oratory to the four evangelists. I think\nI can explain the vision. The farmer was \"swaling.\" At a certain\nperiod a good many pillars of fire may be seen about Tavistock,\nwhen either the furze is being burnt, or the farmers are consuming\nthe \"stroil\"--the weeds from their fields. So I do not reject the\nstory as altogether fabulous, but as \"improved.\" What Ordulf had a\nmind to do was to establish a monastery for the comfort of his soul,\nhaving, I doubt not, bullied and maltreated the poor Britons without\ncompunction. His father had had a mind the same way, but had died\nwithout performing what was his intent.\n\n[Illustration: BRENT TOR]\n\nNext day Ordulf went to the spot where he had seen the fire, and\nthere beheld four stakes, marking out the ground, and this fact\nconfirms me in my opinion. For it was the custom of the natives\nthus to indicate the bounds of their fields. The stakes were called\n_termons_. In like manner miners indicated their setts by cutting\nfour turves annually at the limits of their grounds.\n\nOrdulf now set to work and erected an oratory with buildings for an\nabbot and brethren, and he gave them of his inheritance Tavistock,\nMilton, Hatherleigh, Burrington, Rumonsleigh, Linkinhorne, Dunethem,\nand Chuvelin, which I cannot identify. He also bestowed on the\nmonastery his wife's dower.\n\nWhen the monastic church was built he moved to it the bones of his\nfather, mother, and brother, and after his death was there laid\nhimself.\n\nHowever, before he graced it with his own relics, he transferred to\nit the remains of S. Rumon or Ruan (960), who, if we may judge from\nsome place-names, had been there at a considerably earlier period as\na missionary; for there is near Meavy a Roman's cross, and between\nTavistock and Bere Ferrers is Romansleigh, and on the Tamar Rumleigh.\n\nThe saint reposed in the church of Ruan Lanihorne (Llan-ruan) in\nCornwall, but Ordulf did not scruple to rob a mere West Welsh church\nto give honour and glory to one of his own founding.\n\nRumon was by no means a saint with a name and not a story. He had\nbeen a convert of S. Patrick, a Scot of Ireland. As I shall say\nsomething concerning him when we come to his field of labours in the\nLizard district, I will say no more about them here.\n\nOrdgar, Earl of Devon, was father of the beautiful Elfrida, who\naccordingly was sister of Ordulf. Her story, though tolerably well\nknown, must not be passed over here.\n\nKing Edgar was a little man, but thought a good deal of himself--a\nmerciful dispensation of Providence accorded to little men to make\nup for their lack of inches. He was of a warm complexion. He once\ncarried off a nun from her convent, and was reprimanded for it by\nS. Dunstan, who forbade him for this disreputable act to wear his\ncrown for seven years. His first wife was Ethelfleda, called the\nDuck--Duckie, doubtless, by her husband--and after her death he\nlooked out for another, as is an infirm way that widowers have.\n\nEdgar, hearing that Elfrida, daughter of Ordgar, was the loveliest\nwoman in England, with a true Devonshire complexion of cream and\nheather-bloom, sent Ethelwald, Earl of the East Angles, to interview\nher before he committed himself. Ethelwald no sooner saw her than\nhe was a \"gone coon,\" and he asked the hand of Elfrida from her\nbrother. Having received his consent, he hurried back to the king\nand told him that the lady was much over-rated, that her chief\nbeauty lay in her wealth; as her only brother Ordulf was childless,\nshe had expectations of coming in for his fortune when it should\nplease Providence, and so on.\n\nSo, as though looking only to her expectations, Ethelwald asked\nthe king to give him the lady. Edgar yielded his consent, and\nEthelwald married Elfrida, and became by her the father of a boy\nwhom he persuaded the king to take as his god-child, and to whom he\ngave the name of Edgar. Then Ethelwald was glad, for he knew that\naccording to the laws of the Church, they had contracted a spiritual\nrelationship which would prevent the king from ever marrying Elfrida\nand removing himself, the obstacle which stood in the way should he\ncontemplate an union.\n\nNow the report reached the king that he had been \"done,\" done out of\nthe loveliest woman in Christendom, and the little man ruffled up\nand became fiery red, and vowed he would a-hunting go, and hunt in\nthe royal chase of Dartmoor. So he sent word to Ethelwald that he\npurposed visiting him at his Castle of Harewood, and solicited a bed\nand breakfast.\n\nHarewood is situated on a tongue of land about which the Tamar\nmakes a great loop--at one time assuredly a very strong camp; then\nit became a gentleman's place, now it is a ruin.\n\nEthelwald felt uneasy. He told his wife the story of the deception\nhe had practised, which shows how soft and incapable of dealing\nwith women he was. Then he went on to ask of her the impossible--to\ndisguise her beauty. As if any woman would do that!\n\nBut when Elfrida knew the story she also ruffled up, not a little,\nand made a point of dressing herself in her most costly array,\nbraiding her lovely hair with jewels, and washing her pretty face in\nmilk and _eau de_--elder-flowers. Edgar became madly enamoured, and\nto boot furious with the man who had deceived him.\n\nAs they were together one day hunting, and were alone, the king\nsmote Ethelwald with a javelin so that he died, and he took Elfrida\nto be his wife; and to expiate his peccadillo, erected a convent in\nthe Harewood forest.\n\nEdgar died in 975, and he was but thirty-two years old when he died.\n\nNow, is there any truth in this story?\n\nThe tale comes to us from Geoffrey Gaimar and from William of\nMalmesbury, and their accounts do not quite tally, for Gaimar makes\nthe king send off the obnoxious husband to the wars, to fall by the\nhand of the rebels in Yorkshire, and this looks like a cooking-up\nof the story of David and Uriah. On the other hand, William of\nMalmesbury's tale smells somewhat of an English version of the story\nin the Nibelungenlied of Sigurd and Kriemhild.\n\nBoth historians certainly drew from ballads, but these ballads were\nthe vehicle through which history in early times was preserved. It\nhas been supposed that the Harewood in question was Harewood near\nLeeds, in Yorkshire, but surely Elfrida would be on her inheritance\nin the West. Another difficulty is that there was no convent of nuns\nnear the place. But this may have been thrown in as a sort of moral\nto the tale--if kings or other men do naughty things, they will have\nto pay for it.\n\nTavistock Abbey had some men of rare ability to rule over it.\nOne was Aylmer, chosen in 981, who lived in difficult times,\nwhen the Vikings came and harried the coasts, ran up the rivers,\nand plundered and burned wherever they went. When the Danes were\nspoiling the land, driving off the cattle and burning the farms,\nhe gave out of the revenues of the abbey a double danegeld or\ncontribution for the relief of those in distress. But presently his\nown abbey was surrounded, pillaged, and burnt. This was in 997, by a\nhorde that had first landed at Watchet, and then returned round the\nLand's End, and had run up the Tamar. They went as far as Lydford,\nand burnt and slew everything and every person they could lay hands\non.\n\nBut a far abler man was Lyfing, afterwards Bishop of Worcester, and\nat the same time of Devon and Cornwall.\n\nAnother admirable man was Aldred, who succeeded Lyfing in the see\nof Worcester in 1046, after having been Abbot of Tavistock fourteen\nyears; and he was made Archbishop of York in 1060, and died in\n1069, broken-hearted at the misery that came in the wake of the\nConquest. The lives of both these men, showing how to steer a\ndifficult course in a troubled sea among many rocks, are worth a\nstudy, and for that I refer the reader to Mr. Alford's _Abbots of\nTavistock_. (Plymouth, 1891.)\n\nThe Abbey Church of Tavistock was second only to Exeter for size and\ndignity in the West. It has completely disappeared, and the road in\nfront of the Bedford Hotel now runs over what was the nave of the\ngreat church.\n\nWhere now stands the hotel was in ancient days the Saxon school; it\nwas pulled down in 1736, when the inn, then the house of the Dukes\nof Bedford, was erected on its site and out of its materials.\n\nThe parish church is large, in the Perpendicular style, and somewhat\nuninteresting. But it must be remembered that the Devon and Cornish\nchurches were built with intent to have their chancels and side\nchapels cut off by a very rich screen. Such a screen did once exist\nat Tavistock, and were it in place and complete, the church would\nat once appear well proportioned. It looks now unfurnished, like a\nrailway station. It was repaired in 1845, and for the period the\nwork was really marvellously well done. The carved oak benches were\nfaithful copies of those in Bere Ferrers Church, and there was no\nscamping in the material. The new glass in the windows ranges from\nvery good to execrably bad. Some objects of interest connected with\nthe history of the church, among these the reputed thigh-bones of\nOrdgar and Ordulf, are preserved.\n\nThere is a fine monument to John Fitz, who died in 1590. Opposite it\nis one of Judge Glanville, Serjeant-at-Law in 1589 and Justice of\nCommon Pleas in 1598. He died July 27th, 1600. He had by his wife a\nfair family. Now here comes in a question of some interest.\n\nThe current tradition is that one of Glanville's daughters, Eulalia\nby name, was married to a John Page, whom she murdered, and for\nthe crime she was sentenced to be burned alive; which sentence was\ncarried into effect in 1590 at Barnstaple.\n\nI will give the story as contained in a letter by Mr. Daniel Lysons,\nauthor of the _Magna Britannia_, in 1827:--\n\n     \"The Judge's daughter was attached to George Stanwich, a young\n     man of Tavistock, lieutenant of a man-of-war, whose letters,\n     the father disapproving of the attachment, were intercepted. An\n     old miser of Plymouth, of the name of Page, wishing to have an\n     heir to disappoint his relatives, who perhaps were too confident\n     in calculating upon sharing his wealth, availed himself of\n     this apparent neglect of the young sailor, and settling on\n     her a good jointure, obtained her hand. She took with her a\n     maidservant from Tavistock, but her husband was so penurious\n     that he dismissed all the other servants, and caused his wife\n     and her maid to do all the work themselves. On an interview\n     subsequently taking place between her and Stanwich, she accused\n     him of neglecting to write to her, and then discovered that\n     his letters had been intercepted. The maid advised them to get\n     rid of the old gentleman, and Stanwich at length, with great\n     reluctance, consented to their putting an end to him. Page\n     lived in what was afterwards the Mayoralty House (at Plymouth),\n     and a woman who lived opposite hearing at night some sand thrown\n     against a window, thinking it was her own, arose, and looking\n     out, saw a young gentleman near Page's window, and heard him\n     say, 'For God's sake stay your hand!' A female replied, ''Tis\n     too late; the deed is done.' On the following morning it was\n     given out that Page had died suddenly in the night, and as soon\n     as possible he was buried. On the testimony, however, of his\n     neighbour, the body was taken up again, and it appearing that he\n     had been strangled, his wife, Stanwich, and the maid were tried\n     and executed. It is current among the common people here that\n     Judge Glanville, her own father, pronounced the sentence.\"\n\nThat sentence would be one for petty treason, burning alive. It\nwas not till 1790 that the law requiring women to be burnt alive\nfor putting to death their husbands or their masters was repealed.\nA woman was so burnt in 1789. A poor girl of fifteen was burnt\nat Heavitree, near Exeter, on July 29th, 1782, for poisoning her\nmaster. Eulalia Page and her servant were actually executed at\nBarnstaple and George Stanwich was hanged. All that is certain.\nBut the question about which a difficulty arises is--Was Eulalia a\ndaughter of Judge Glanville?\n\nThere is a contemporary tract that contains an account of the\ntransaction, which was reprinted by Payne Collier.[31] From this\nwe learn that Mrs. Page having failed in an attempt to poison her\nhusband, prevailed on one of her servants, named Robert Priddis\n(Prideaux), to assist her, and on the other side Strangwich\n(Standwich) hired one Tom Stone to assist in the murder.\n\n  [31] _Bibliographical Catalogue of Early English Literature_, 1865,\n  ii. pp. 83-6.\n\nThe deed was accomplished about ten o'clock on the night of February\n11th, 1591, and all four were tried at Barnstaple, whither the\nassizes had been moved from Exeter because the plague was raging in\nthe latter city, and were executed on March 20th following. Philip\nWyot, town clerk of Barnstaple, kept a diary at the time, extracts\nfrom which have been printed. He gives some particulars:--\"The\ngibbet was sat up on the Castle Green and xviij prisoners hanged,\nwhereof iiij of Plimouth for a murder.\" These four were the\nmurderers of Page. How it was that Ulalia was hanged instead of\nbeing burnt, in contravention of the law, does not appear, and\nwe may doubt the statement. Three of those hanged were buried in\nthe churchyard at Barnstaple, but Ulalia Page was laid in that\nof Bishops Tawton. Now as to the statement that Judge Glanville\nsentenced his own daughter.\n\nIn the first place, _was_ she his daughter? It appears not; for from\nthe tract already referred to, \"in the town of Testock (Tavistock)\n... there dwelled one Mr. Glandfield (Glanville), a man of good\nwealth and account as any occupier in that cuntrie,\" whose daughter\nEulalia was; and she set her affections on George Strangwich, who\nwas in her father's employ. Mr. Glanville, of Tavistock, almost\ncertainly was a near relative of the judge. The Glanvilles were\ntanners of Whitchurch, in trade, but the family was respectable.\nThey have been given a fanciful pedigree from a Norman Lord of\nGlanville near Caen, but it is deficient in proof. What is clear\nis that the family occupied a respectable position near Tavistock\nin the reign of Elizabeth; they had their tan pits, and they went\ninto trade without scruple. In fact, John Glanville, father of the\njudge, was himself a merchant, _i.e._, shopkeeper in Tavistock. That\nEulalia was a _sister_ of the judge is possible enough. That her\nname was not inserted in the pedigree as recorded in the Herald's\nVisitation may easily be understood.[32]\n\n  [32] Glandfeelde is the same as Glanville; so in the Tavistock\n  register, Grenville is entered as Greenfeelde.\n\nThe next point is--Did Judge Glanville preside at the trial?\n\nNow we are informed by E. Foss (_Biographia Juridica_, 1870, p.\n303) that Glanville \"was promoted to the bench as a Justice of the\nCommon Pleas on June 30th, 1598.\" Consequently he was not a judge at\nthe time that Eulalia Page was tried. The judge who tried the case,\nas we learn from Wyot's diary, was Lord Anderson. Nevertheless,\nGlanville was present at Barnstaple at the assizes, for Wyot\nmentions him as Serjeant Glandye, who was one of the principal\nlawyers present, and he had been \"called to the degree of the coif,\"\nFord records, two years before. So, as far as we can discover:--\n\n     1. Eulalia was very probably _sister_ of Judge Glanville, she\n     being daughter of a merchant Glanville, of Tavistock, as he was\n     son of one.\n\n     2. That she really was executed for the murder of her husband,\n     Page, along with her lover, George Strangwich, and two\n     assistants.\n\n     3. That Strangwich had not been in the Navy, but was a shop\n     assistant of Mr. Glanville.\n\n     4. That John Glanville, Serjeant-at-Law, presumably her brother,\n     was present at the trial, but was not judge at the time.\n\nThe tragic story was not only turned into ballads, but also was\ndramatised by Ben Jonson and Decker. In Halliwell's _Dictionary of\nOld English Plays_ (1860) is this entry:--\n\n     \"Page, of Plymouth. A play by Ben Johnson and Decker, written in\n     1599, upon the story of the murder of one Page at Plymouth.\"[33]\n\n  [33] Dr. Brushfield has sifted the whole story in the pages of _The\n  Western Antiquary_, ix., p. 35.\n\nA little way out of the town on the Plymouth road, by the Drake\nstatue, is the gateway of old Fitzford House. About this a good deal\nof both history and legend hangs.\n\nThe house was that of old John Fitz, whose splendid monument is\nin Tavistock Church. Late in life he had a son of the name also\nof John, an only child, whose story is tragical. The heir was\nfourteen only when he lost his father. John Fitz, who was \"a very\ncomely person,\" was married before he had attained his majority to\na daughter of Sir William Courtenay. Of this marriage one child,\nMary, was born in 1596, when her father was just twenty-one years\nold.[34] The young gentleman being now of age, and finding himself\nfree from all restraint, began to live a very rackety life for three\nyears, when an incident happened that ought to have sobered him.\nWhat follows is quoted, condensed, from _The Bloudie Booke: or The\nTragical End of Sir John Fitz._ London, 1605.\n\n  [34] The story of John Fitz and of Lady Howard has been worked\n  out very carefully by Mrs. George Radford, to whose paper in the\n  _Transactions of the Devonshire Association_, 1890, I am much\n  indebted for what follows.\n\n     \"Meeting (June 4th, 1599) at Tavistocke a dinner wyth manie of\n     his neighbors and friends, with great varietie of merriments\n     and discourse they outstript the noontide. Amongst other their\n     table-talk Sir John (he was not knighted at the time) was\n     vanting his free Tenure in holding his lande, boasting that he\n     helde not a foote of any but the Queene in England; to whoome\n     Mayster Slanninge replyed, that although of ceurtesie it were\n     neglected, yet of dewe hee was to paye him so muche by the yeere\n     for some small lande helde of him; uppon which wordes Sir John\n     told him with a great oath he lyed, and withall gave fuell to\n     his rage, offering to stab him. But Maister Slanning with a\n     great knife warded the hazard.\"\n\nFriends intervened and the quarrel was patched up, so that presently\nSlanning left and departed for his home at Bickleigh. He had not\ngone very far before, dismounting, he bade his man take the horses\nalong the road, whilst he walked by a short cut across the fields.\n\nAt that moment he heard the tramp of horses, and saw John Fitz and\nfour more galloping after him. So as not to seem to be running\naway Slanning remained on the spot, and on John Fitz coming up\nasked what he wanted. Fitz drew his sword and raved that he would\nrevenge the insult offered him, and Slanning was forced to defend\nhimself. He was wounded, and someone struck Slanning from behind,\nwhereupon he staggered forwards and Fitz ran him through the body.\nLocal tradition, and Prince in his _Worthies_, will have it that the\naffray took place at Fitzford Gate.\n\nNicolas Slanning was buried in Bickleigh Church, which, when\n\"restored\" and made desperately uninteresting, lost the great\nfeature of Slanning's monument, which was fine, though of plaster.\nNow the inscription alone remains:\n\n     \"Great was the lamentation that the country side made for the\n     death of so beloved a Gentleman as Maister Slanning was.\"\n\nJohn Fitz, then aged twenty-four, fled to France, where he remained\nuntil, by his wife's exertions, a pardon was procured for him,\nDecember 16th, 1599.\n\nHe returned home, and for a year or two led a blameless life--at\nleast he did not murder any more of his friends--and at the\ncoronation of King James I. was knighted.\n\nWhether the honour conferred on him was too much for him, or whether\nthere was a mad strain in his blood, cannot be said, but on his\nreturn from London he broke out into wild ways again. Finding the\npresence of his wife and only child a restraint on him, he turned\nthem out of the house, and surrounded himself with dissolute\ncompanions, chief among whom was \"Lusty Jacke, one whose deedes were\nindeed meane, whose good qualities altogether none.\"\n\nIn the summer of 1605 he received a summons to London to appear\nbefore the courts, in answer to a claim of compensation for their\nfather's death made by the children of Nicolas Slanning. He set out\nattended by a single servant. He was a prey to terrors, particularly\nafraid of his father-in-law, Sir William Courtenay, who he knew was\nvery incensed with him because of his behaviour to his wife, the\ndaughter of Sir William. He had moreover been squandering money\nwhich had been settled on her by deed. Every day his fancies got\nmore disordered, till he put up at Kingston-on-Thames, his last\nresting-place before reaching London; but there, a prey to alarms\nand fancies, he would not lie, and rode on to Twickenham, where he\nstopped at \"The Anchor,\" a small hostelry kept by one Daniel Alley,\nwhom he roused out of his bed about 2 a.m. The host, to accommodate\nhim, was forced to surrender to him his own bed, and send his wife\nto sleep with the children. But the knight could not rest after\nhe had lain down, and was heard crying out that he was pursued by\nenemies.\n\nVery early, the host rose that he might go out and mow a field, but\nhis wife entreated him not to leave the house. He laughed at her\nalarms, but she persisted, and a neighbour who was going to help in\nthe mowing came in. Sir John Fitz started out of sleep on hearing\nvoices, and persuaded that his fears were verified, rushed from his\nroom in his nightgown, with his sword, and ran Alley through the\nbody. He then wounded the unhappy wife, and finding the error into\nwhich he had fallen, finally mortally wounded himself. A doctor was\nsent for, but he tore off the bandages, and so died, lamented of\nnone save Lusty Jack.\n\nNo sooner was he dead than the Earl of Northumberland hastened\nto buy the wardship of the little heiress, Mary Fitz, then nine\nyears and one week old. At the time the Crown became the guardian\nof orphans whose lands were held _in capite_ or direct from the\nCrown, and was wont to sell the wardships to the highest bidders.\nThe guardian had complete control, to the exclusion of the mother,\nover the ward, and he could marry the ward as he liked, this also\nbeing generally an affair of money. As soon as Mary Fitz was twelve,\nthe Earl, as she was a desirable heiress, disposed of her to his\nbrother, Sir Allan Percy, aged thirty-one; she did not, however,\nlive with her husband, but was placed under the charge of Lady\nHatton. Sir Allan died in November, 1611, three years after, and\nthen it was said:--\"Sir Allan Percy is gone the way of all flesh,\ndying, his lady the way of all quicke flesh, having stolen out of\nmy Lady Eliz. Hatton's house in London, in the edge of an evening,\nand coupled herself in marriage with Mr. Darcy, my lord Darcye's\neldest son.\" This was on December 18th, 1611, just about a month\nafter the death of husband number one. He was of her own age, and\nno doubt she found him to her liking; however, he lived only a few\nmonths after his marriage, and Lady Mary was again a widow, and was\nimposed (1612), hardly by her own choice, on Sir Charles Howard,\nfourth son of Thomas, Earl of Suffolk. So she had number three\nwhen scarcely sixteen. Sir Charles died in 1622; consequently they\nwere together for ten years. She had two daughters by Sir Charles\nHoward, and a son, George Howard, is mentioned, but there is some\ndoubt as to his parentage. In 1628 she took a fourth, Sir Richard\nGrenville, the younger brother of the gallant Sir Bevil. He was a\nvery disreputable, bad-tempered, altogether ill-conditioned fellow.\nLady Howard took good care, before accepting number four, to have\nher property well tied up to herself, so that he could not touch\nit. When he discovered this he was furious, and treated her with\ninsolence and violence. By him she had two daughters, Elizabeth, who\ndied early, and Mary.\n\nThe condition of family broil became at last so intolerable that\nshe was forced to appeal to the justices of peace against him, and\nfinally to endeavour to obtain a divorce, 1631-2. The revelations\nthen made on both sides are not pleasant reading. If he was abusive,\nshe did not keep her tongue shut behind her teeth.\n\nThe story of her further troubles during the Civil War, of Sir\nRichard's playing fast and loose with one party and then the\nother, of his masterful seizure of her house at Fitzford and her\nestates in Devon, need not here be told at length. She lived in\nLondon, and was put to desperate shifts for money. At last Sir\nRichard was thrown into prison, but escaped to France, 1646. Lady\nGrenville, or as she now called herself--for she held herself to be\ndivorced--Lady Howard, at once returned to Fitzford, found it gutted\nand in a wretched condition, and set to work to cleanse, repair,\nand refurnish. Her son, George Howard, managed her business for her\ntill his death in September, 1671, without issue. His mother, at\nthis date very old, was probably bedridden; the shock of her son's\ndeath was too much for her, and she died a month later. Knowing\nher to be ill, her first cousin, Sir William Courtenay, hastened\nto her bedside, and, probably with the connivance of a trusted\nmaid, Thomasine Wills, persuaded the old lady to make over to him\nall her landed estates, to the exclusion of her two daughters, who\nwere alive and married. It was an infamous piece of roguery, and it\nbrought no luck on the Courtenays.\n\nPopular feeling was outraged and has revenged itself on her, who\nreally was not so much to blame as Sir William Courtenay, in\npainting her in the blackest colours. She is popularly represented\nas having murdered her first three husbands, as conceiving a deadly\nhatred against her daughter Elizabeth, who apparently died early,\nbut cannot be traced, and as not exactly _walking_ but _riding_\nafter death. When the clock strikes twelve every night she is\nsupposed to start in a coach made of bones from the gateway of\nFitzford House, drawn by headless horses; before the carriage runs a\nsable hound with one eye in the middle of his forehead. The spectral\ncoach makes its way to Okehampton, where the hound plucks a blade\nof grass from the castle mound, and then the _cort\u00e8ge_ returns to\nFitzford, where the blade is laid on the threshold of the gate. This\nis Lady Howard's penance, and it will last till every blade of grass\non the mound of Okehampton Castle hill has been plucked, which will\nnot be till the crack of doom, as the grass grows faster than the\nhound can carry it off.\n\nI frequently heard of the coach going from Okehampton to Tavistock\nwhen I was a boy; and there was a ballad about it, of which I was\nable to recall a few fragments, which I completed and published\nalong with the original air in my _Songs of the West_. As a child I\nremember the deadly fear that I felt lest I should be on the road at\nnight, and my nurse was wont to comfort me by saying there was no\nfear of the \"Lady's Coach,\" except after midnight.\n\nIn the vicarage garden are some very early inscribed stones\ncollected from the neighbourhood. There is no token on them that\nthey are Christian. Their inscriptions are:--\n\n  1. Neprani fili Condevi\n  2. Sabini fili Maccodecheti\n  3. Dobunii Fabri fili Enabarri.\n\nThis latter has on it also in oghans _Enabarr_. The second has the\ntest word _Mac_ for _Map_ or _Mab_, indicative of Irish occupation.\nMoreover Dechet was a name, probably of a _sept_ or tribe in Kerry,\nwhere several stones inscribed with the same name are found.[35]\n\n  [35] A member of the same clan or tribe was buried at Penrhos\n  Llygwyin, Anglesea--\"_Hic jacet Maccudecheti_.\"\n\nThe third is interesting, for Dobun was a _faber_ or smith. In\nCeltic organisation every _tuatha_ or tribe had its chief smith,\nand every _fine_ or clan had its smith and forge as well, all whose\nrights and dues were determined by law; moreover, the head smith of\nthe tribe was a man of very considerable consequence, social and\npolitical.\n\n_Dobuni_, in the third, is the Latin for the genitive _Douvinias_,\nalso a Kerry name. A stone at Ballintaggart bears an inscription to\na son of Dobunus, MUCCOIDOVVINIAS. Another stone of another son is\nat Burnham, also in Kerry, in Lord Ventry's collection. Here, then,\nwe have written and engraven in stone for our learning the record of\nan Irish settlement from Kerry in the neighbourhood of Tavistock. If\nS. Rumon preached there he could preach in Gaelic and be understood.\n\nOf the abbey of Tavistock there are but poor remains. Betsy\nGrimbal's tower in the vicarage garden was a gate-house, and\ntakes its name from a woman who was murdered there by a soldier.\nA porch into the refectory or abbot's hall is the dairy of the\n\"Bedford Inn.\" Some fragments of the monastic buildings are united\nand converted into library and municipal buildings, but they are\ndominated and oppressed by an architectural monstrosity--an absurd\nTown Hall in nondescript style.\n\nThe Drake statue is of bronze, and fine, in front of the Fitzford\ngate, and possesses the bas-reliefs on the base, in which the\n_replica_ on Plymouth Hoe is deficient. Sir Francis Drake was born\nat Crowndale, the first farm down the Tavy valley. The old house\nhas been destroyed. The Drakes were of yeoman origin in Whitchurch,\nnothing more. They laboured to prove a kinship to the ancient family\nof Drake of Ash, but failed, and Sir Francis Drake was granted an\nentirely new coat of arms.\n\nThe story is told that Sir Francis and Sir Bernard,--the latter the\nhead of the Ash family--had a heated quarrel over the matter in the\npresence of Queen Elizabeth, Sir Bernard objecting to the navigator\nassuming the wyvern gules.\n\n\"Well,\" said Bess, \"I will give Sir Francis a new coat, a ship in\nfull sail, with the wyvern turned head over heels at the poop.\"\n\nBut Sir Bernard was too important a man to be offended; she thought\nbetter of it, and gave Sir Francis the noble coat of a fess wavy\nbetween two pole stars.\n\nThe story is pronounced to be apocryphal.\n\nSir Francis became possessor by purchase of Buckland Abbey (1581),\nwhich is not only beautifully situated, but is interesting. It is,\nin fact, the cruciform abbey church converted into an Elizabethan\nmansion. The nave has been floored, and the drawing-room upstairs is\nin it; the hall below is also in part therein. There is here some\nsplendid plaster-work. The choir was pulled down and a kitchen wing\nbuilt at right angles. In the grounds are some remarkably fine tulip\ntrees.\n\nBuckland Monachorum Church is large, Perpendicular, but cold, and\nhas a naked, unfurnished look internally from being without its\nscreen.\n\nThere are two points on no account to be missed by a visitor to\nTavistock, and both can be combined in one drive or walk--the Raven\nRock above the Virtuous Lady Mine, opposite the point where the\nWalla falls into the Tavy; the other the better known Morwell Rocks.\nThe former, hardly inferior to the other, but less known, is reached\nfrom the Bere Alston road.\n\nAt Morwell is the hunting-lodge of Abbot Courtenay, cousin of Bishop\nGrandisson, and appointed by him to Tavistock Abbey. It was a very\nunsatisfactory appointment. He alienated the property of the abbey,\nand allowed its buildings and discipline to fall into decay, and\ngot the monastery into a debt equivalent to twenty thousand pounds\nof our money. All he cared for was sport, like the jolly monk in\nChaucer's _Prologue_.\n\nThe quadrangle, which was in a singularly untouched condition, with\nhall and butteries and kitchens, was somewhat wantonly mutilated\nsome fifty years ago and turned into farmhouse and cottages.\n\nFrom Tavistock Lydford can be visited with ease. This was a very\nstrong place at one time, a sort of inland cliff-castle, situated\nin a fork between ravines, with mounds and trenches drawn across\nthe neck. The castle, an uninteresting ruin, occupies a natural\nmound artificially shaped; it was long the Stannary prison. The\nwaterfall is graceful rather than fine, a steep slide of seventy\nfeet in height in the midst of woods. From this the river Lyd should\nbe ascended for three miles by a path through a ravine that grows\nin grandeur till it is spanned by a bridge. The ascent may well\nbe continued to Kits Steps, another fall of a totally different\ncharacter, much spoiled by refuse-heaps from an abandoned mine. From\nLydford a visitor should take a walk across the shoulder of Hare Tor\nto the rocks of Tavy Cleave, perhaps the grandest scene on Dartmoor.\n\nAnother excursion is to be made to Brent Tor, a subaqueous volcanic\ncone, crowned by a little church. The base of the hill has been\nfortified. The banks are most perfect on the east. The view from\nthe top of the tor is remarkably extensive and fine. Endsleigh,\nthe country seat of the Duke of Bedford, is almost unsurpassed in\nEngland for beauty of scenery. Mary Tavy Church has a good new\nscreen, and Peter Tavy a scrap of an old one and remains of a\nmagnificent early Tudor pew, wantonly demolished.\n\nFrom either Whit Tor may be ascended, a tor of gabbro, or volcanic\ntraplike formation. The summit has been fortified. On Peter Tavy\nMoor is a fine circle of upright stones, and a menhir. Peter Tavy\nCombe should on no account be passed over unseen.\n\n     NOTE.--Books on Tavistock:--\n\n     ALFORD (Rev. D.), _The Abbots of Tavistock_. Plymouth, 1891.\n\n     BRAY (Mrs.), _The Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy_, 2 vols.\n     new edition. London: Kent and Co., 1879. A valuable book for\n     old stories and superstitions. Mr. Bray was also the first to\n     explore Dartmoor for its antiquities. But all the rubbish about\n     Druids must be put aside. When written in 1832 antiquaries knew\n     no better; they talked and wrote nonsense on such subjects.\n\n     EVANS (R.), _Home Scenes; or, Tavistock and its Vicinity_.\n     Tavistock, 1846; now not easily procured.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\nTORQUAY\n\n     As a health resort--The Palk family--Myths concerning the\n     family--Its real history--The Cary family--Landing at Brixham\n     of William of Orange--Kent's Cavern--Order of deposits\n     therein--Churches in the neighbourhood--Haccombe--The Teign-head\n     combes--Wolborough--The Three Wells--Aller pottery--Its\n     story--Red mud.\n\n\nThis pleasant winter residence is now stretched from Paignton on\none side to Marychurch on the other, with different climates in its\nseveral parts. Torquay is backed by a high ridge against the east,\nand consequently is sheltered from cutting winds from that quarter.\nS. Marychurch is on the top of the cliffs, and catches every wind.\nPaignton looks across the bay due east, and is therefore exposed to\nthe most bracing of all winds. In Frying Pan Row, Torquay, one may\nbe grilled the same day that at Paignton one may have one's nose and\nfingers turned blue.\n\nA century ago Torquay was a little fishing village, numbering but a\nfew poor cottages.\n\nTorquay has benefited largely from the Palk family, but then the\nPalks also have benefited largely by Torquay.\n\nA cloud of dust has been stirred up to disguise the humble, but\nrespectable, origin of the family; and even Foster in his _Peerage_\n(1882), who is always accurate when he had facts placed before\nhim, commences with \"Sir Robert Palk, descended from Henry Palk,\nof Ambrook, Devon (Henry VII., 1493-4).\" But Ambrook, which is\nin Staverton, never did belong to the Palks; it was the property\nfirst of the Shapcotes, and then of the Nayles. Sir Bernard Burke,\nin addition to the Ambrook myth, states that Walter, seventh in\ndescent, married Miss Abraham, and had Robert, Walter (who was\nmember for Ashburton), and Grace. The late Sir Bernard Burke was\nnot remarkable for accuracy, and here he has floundered into a\nsuccession of blunders. The descent from Henry Palk, of Ambrook, is\napocryphal; and Walter Palk never was member for Ashburton, or for\nanywhere else. Another false assertion made has been that the family\nare descended from a Rev. Thomas Palk, of Staverton, a \"celebrated\"\nNonconformist divine, who died in 1693. Wills proved in the Court of\nthe Dean and Chapter of Exeter disprove this.\n\nThe real facts are these.\n\nWalter Palk, of Ashburton, married Grace Ryder, and by her means\ncame in for a petty farm called Lower Headborough, close to\nAshburton. He died in 1707, when his personal estate was valued at\n\u00a3160 10_s._ 5\u00bd_d._ His son Walter married Frances, daughter of\nRobert Abraham, a farmer in Woodland, and his pack-horses carried\nserge from Ashburton over Haldon to Exeter. This is probably the\norigin of the story commonly told that the first Palk was a carrier\nbetween Exeter and Ashburton. He had two sons: Walter, whose son,\nthe Rev. Jonathan Palk, vicar of Ilsington, described his father as\na \"little farmer with a large family.\" The second son, Robert, born\nin 1717, was sent as a sizar to Oxford, by the assistance of his\nuncle Abraham. He was ordained deacon, and became a poor curate in\nCornwall. On Christmastide he walked to Ashburton to see his father,\nand as he was returning on his way home, he stood on Dart Bridge,\nlooking down on the river, when a gentleman riding by recognised\nhim, drew up, and said, \"Is that you, Palk?\" He had been a\nfellow-student at Oxford. Palk had a sad story to tell of privation\nand vexation. The other suggested to him to seek his fortune under\nJohn Company in India, and volunteered an introduction. He went out,\nacting as chaplain to the _Stirling Castle_, and during the time\nhe was in India, attracted the attention of General Lawrence, who\nin 1752 obtained for him an appointment as paymaster to the army,\nof which he had then assumed the command. But already by clever\nspeculation Mr. Palk had done well; the new position enabled him to\nvastly enlarge his profits.\n\nHe next embarked in trade, and this also proved remunerative. He\ncame back to England for the first time in 1759. Subsequently a\ndifficulty arose in India. The Company were debating it at the old\nEast India House in Leadenhall Street. What capable man could they\nfind to do the difficult work before them? At last one of them\nexclaimed, \"Gentlemen, you forget that we have Mr. Palk at home.\"\n\"The very man!\" He was sent out as Governor of Madras in 1763. In\n1775 General Lawrence died, and left \u00a380,000 to his old _prot\u00e9g\u00e9_.\n\nThe acquisition of the property about Torquay, at the time when it\nwas a place of no consideration, was a shrewd stroke of business.\nMr. Palk was created a baronet, and elected to represent Devon in\nParliament. Subsequently, when the Rev. John Horne Tooke, a Jacobin,\nas it was the fashion to call Radicals of that day, was returned to\nParliament, the House settled that it would not allow of clerical\nmembers being admitted, and this would have excluded Sir Robert Palk\nas well as Horne Tooke, but that Palk was only in deacon's orders.\n\nSir Robert did much for Torquay. Sir Lawrence continued to promote\nthe material welfare of the place in every way available.\n\nHe constructed the outer harbour and new pier, which were completed\nin 1870, at an outlay of \u00a370,000. Further attractions were afforded\nto visitors by the provision of recreation grounds and public walks.\nHe also gave sites for new churches, and the modern town of Torquay\nhas risen into a place full of beauty and attraction.\n\n     \"Robert Palk's touch seemed to turn everything into gold. He\n     realised it for himself, for his children, for his relatives,\n     for his friends, and for his surroundings. He was an ancestor to\n     look back upon, a forefather of whom any family might reasonably\n     be proud.\"[36]\n\n  [36] WORTHY, _Devonshire Parishes_, 1889, vol. ii., p. 335. Mr.\n  Worthy has worked out the Palk pedigree from extant wills and\n  registers.\n\nThe other family attached to Torquay to which it must look is that\nof Cary, as ancient and noble as that of Palk is modern and humble.\nThe nest of the family is Cary, on the river of the same name in S.\nGiles-in-the-Heath, Devon, but on the borders of Cornwall. It can be\ntraced back like those of most men to an Adam--but an Adam Cary in\n1240.\n\nTorbay is noted as the place where Dutch William arrived in 1688.\nHe landed at Brixham on November 4th, and, as the tide was out, he\ncalled for someone to carry him ashore, whereupon a little man named\nVarwell volunteered.\n\nThe local story is that the good folk of Brixham presented their\nillustrious visitor with the following address:--\n\n    \"An' please your Majesty, King William,\n    You're welcome to Brixham Quay,\n    To eat buckhorn and drink Bohea\n    Along wi' we,\n    An' please your Majesty, King William.\"\n\nBut the story is of course apocryphal, as the prince was not a king,\nand tea was at a fabulous price.\n\nThe subsequent history of the \"little man\" who carried the king\nashore is rather singular. Having a short ambling pony, he rode\nbare-headed before the prince to Newton and afterwards to Exeter,\nand so pleased him with his zeal that the prince bade him come to\ncourt, when he should be seated on the throne, and that then he\nwould reward Varwell. The prince also gave him a line under his\nhand, which was to serve as a passport to the royal presence. In\ndue time accordingly the little man took his course to London,\npromising his townsmen that he would come back among them a lord at\nleast. When, however, he arrived there, some sharpers, who learned\nhis errand at the tavern where he put up, made Varwell gloriously\ndrunk, and kept him in this condition for several successive\nweeks. During this time one of the party, having obtained the\npassport, went to court, with the \"little man's\" tale in his mouth,\nand received a handsome present from the king. Our adventurer,\nrecovering himself afterwards, went to the palace without his card\nof admission and was repulsed as an impostor, and returned to\nBrixham never to hold up his head again.\n\nIt is fair to say that the Varwell family entirely repudiate the\nlatter part of the tale, and say that the \"little man\" did see the\nking and got a hundred pounds out of him.\n\nThe troops with the prince were obliged to encamp in the open air,\nbut William got a lodging in one of the cottages.\n\nWhitter, who was one of the attendants on the Dutch adventurer, has\nleft a graphic account of the landing and subsequent march:--\n\n     \"It was a cold, frosty night, and the stars twinkl'd\n     exceedingly; besides, the ground was very wet after so much rain\n     and ill weather; the soldiers were to stand to their arms the\n     whole night; and therefore sundry soldiers went to fetch some\n     old hedges and cut down green wood to burn therewith and make\n     some fire. Those who had provision in their gnap-sacks did broil\n     it at the fire, and others went into the villages thereabouts to\n     buy some fresh provisions for their officers, but, alas! there\n     was little to be gotten. There was a little ale-house among the\n     fishermen's houses, which was so extremely thronged that a man\n     could not thrust in his head, nor get bread or ale for money.\n     It was a happy time for the landlord, who strutted about as if\n     indeed he had been a lord himself.\"\n\nThe little ale-house is probably that now entitled the \"Buller\nArms.\" It was there William is said to have slept, and to have left\nbehind him a ring that remained in the possession of the taverner's\nfamily till it came to one Mary Churchward, who died about 1860. It\nwas stolen from her one night by a thief who entered her room whilst\nshe slept, and it was never recovered.\n\nOn the morrow William and his Dutchmen with a few Scots and English\nmarched to Paignton, and many people, mostly Nonconformists,\nwelcomed him.\n\nA gentleman, very advanced in age, in 1880 says:--\n\n     \"There are few now left who can say as I can, that they have\n     heard their fathers and their wives' fathers talking together\n     of the men who saw the landing of William the Third at Torbay.\n     I have heard Captain Clements say he, as a boy, heard as many\n     as seven or eight old men each giving the particulars of what\n     he saw; then one said a shipload of horses hawled to the Quay,\n     and the horses walked out all harnessed, and the quickness with\n     which each man knew his horse and mounted it surprised them.\n     Another old man said, 'I helped to get on shore the horses\n     that were thrown overboard, and swam on shore, guided by only\n     a single rope running from the ship to the shore.' My father\n     remembered one Gaffer Will Webber, of Staverton, who lived to a\n     great age, say that he went from Staverton as a boy with his\n     father, who took a cartload of apples from Staverton to the\n     highroad from Brixham to Exeter, that the soldiers might help\n     themselves to them, and to wish them 'God-speed.'\n\n     \"I merely mention this to show how easily tradition can be\n     handed down, requiring only three or four individuals for two\n     centuries.\"[37]\n\n  [37] WINDEATT (T. W.), \"The Landing of the Prince of Orange,\" in\n  _Transactions of the Devonshire Association_, 1880.\n\nWhat was done by the country folk was to roll apples down the slopes\nfrom the orchards to the troops as they passed.\n\nThe prince spent the second night at Paignton in a house near the\n\"Crown and Anchor Inn,\" where his room is still shown.\n\nNext day he with his troops marched to Newton, and he took up his\nquarters in Ford House, belonging to Sir William Courtenay, who\nprudently decamped so as not to compromise himself. A room there\nis called the Orange Room, and is now always papered and hung with\nthat colour. At Newton the prince's proclamation was read on the\nsteps of the old market cross, not by the Rev. John Reynell, rector\nof Wolborough, as is stated on a stone erected on the spot, but by\na chaplain, no doubt the fussy and pushing Burnet. Reynell had also\nmade himself scarce. From Newton the prince marched to Exeter.\n\nOne can tell pretty well what were the political leanings of squires\nand parsons at the period of the Jacobite troubles, for where there\nwas zeal for the House of Stuart, there Scotch pines were planted;\nwhere, however, the Dutchman was in favour, there lime trees were\nset in avenues.\n\nIn Torquay Museum is an interesting collection of relics from\nKent's Cavern. This is a cave in the limestone rocks that was first\nexplored in 1824, when Mr. Northmore, of Cleve, near Exeter, visited\nit with the double object, as he stated, \"of discovering organic\nremains, and of ascertaining the existence of a temple of Mithras,\"\nand he declared himself happy to say that he was \"successful in both\nobjects.\" An amusing example this of the egregious nonsense that was\nregarded as antiquarianism at the beginning of this century. He was\nfollowed by Mr. (afterwards Sir) W. C. Trevelyan, who was the first\nto have obtained any results of scientific value.\n\nThe Rev. J. MacEnery, a Roman Catholic priest, whose name must be\nfor ever associated with the Cavern, visited it in the summer of\n1825. The visit was a memorable one, for, devoting himself to what\nhe conjectured to be a favourable spot, he found several teeth and\nbones; and he thus sums up his feelings on the occasion:--\n\n\"They were the first fossil teeth I had ever seen, and as I laid my\nhands on them, relics of extinct races and witnesses of an order of\nthings which passed away with them, I shrank back involuntarily.\nThough not insensible to the excitement attending new discoveries, I\nam not ashamed to own that in the presence of these remains I felt\nmore of awe than joy.\"\n\nHe communicated his discovery to Dr. Buckland, and from time to time\ndug into the deposits. At that and a long subsequent period the\nproper method of studying deposits of this kind was not understood,\nand the several layers were not distinguished. Trenches were cut\nthat went through beds separated in age by many centuries, perhaps\nthousands of years, and no distinction was made between what lay\nnear the surface and what was found in the lowermost strata. A\nproper examination began in March, 1866, and was continued without\nintermission through the summer of 1880 under the able direction of\nMr. W. Pengelly, at a cost of nearly two thousand pounds.\n\nKent's Cavern gives evidence of a double occupation by man at a\nremote distance of time the one from the other. The upper beds are\nof cave-earth. Below that is the breccia, and in the upper alone\nare traces of the hyena found. In the lowest strata of crystalline\nbreccia are rude flint and chert implements of the same type as that\nfound elsewhere in the river-drift. In association with these were\nthe remains of the cave-bear, and a tool was found manufactured out\nof an already fossilised tooth of this animal. The chert and flint\nemployed were from the gravels that lie between Newton Abbot and\nTorquay.\n\nAbove the breccia is the cave-earth, in which flint implements are\nby far more numerous, and are of a higher form, some being carefully\nchipped all round. The earlier tool was fashioned by heavy blows\ndealt against the core of flint, detaching large flakes. But the\ntools of the second period are neatly trimmed. The flakes were\ndetached, very often by pressure and a jerk, and then the edges\nwere delicately worked with a small tool. A bone needle was also met\nwith, and bone awls, and two harpoons of reindeer antler, the one\nbarbed on one side and the other on both.\n\nRude, coarse pottery has also been found, but only quite near the\nsurface, and this belongs to a later period.\n\nThere are other caves in the same formation, at Anstis and at\nBrixham, that have rendered good results when explored.\n\nThe two deposits are separated from each other by a sheet of\ncrystalline stalagmite, in some places nearly twelve feet thick,\nformed after the breccia was deposited, and before the cave-earth\nwas introduced. After the stalagmite had been formed, it was broken\nup by some unknown natural agency, and much of it, along with some\nof the breccia, was carried out by water from the cave, before the\ndeposition of the cave-earth began.\n\n     \"From these observations it is evident that the Riverdrift\n     men inhabited the caves of Devonshire, Derbyshire, and\n     Nottinghamshire in an early stage of the history of caverns,\n     and that after an interval, to be measured in Kent's Hole by\n     the above-mentioned physical changes, the Cave-men (those of\n     the Second Period) found shelter in the same places. The former\n     also followed the chase in the valley of the Elwy and the vale\n     of Clwydd in North Wales, and the latter found ample food in\n     the numerous reindeer, horses, and bisons then wandering over\n     the plains extending from the Mendip Hills to the Quantocks,\n     and the low, fertile tract now covered by the estuary of the\n     Severn and the Irish Sea. When all these facts are taken into\n     consideration, it is difficult to escape Mr. Pengelly's\n     conclusion that the two sets of implements represent two\n     distinct social states, of which the ruder is by far the most\n     ancient.\"[38]\n\n  [38] BOYD DAWKINS, _Early Man in Britain_, 1880, p. 197.\n\nWe have, in the caves of France, evidence of the successive layers\nof civilisation, one superposed on the other, down to the reindeer\nhunter, who ate horses, represented by the cave-earth man of Kent's\nHole; and in this latter we have this same man superposed on the\ntraces of the still earlier man of the river-drift. To make all\nplainer, I will add here a summary of the deposits.\n\n                { Modern, Roman, etc.                  }\n                { Iron Age, Celtic, bronze ornaments.  } Fauna, as\n  Neolithic     { Bronze weapons, Ivernian, flint      } at present.\n                { tools.                               }\n                { Flint and pottery.                   }\n\n                { Flint and bone tools, cave-men.      } Hyena,\n  Palaeolithic  { Rudest flint tools, river-drift      } cave-bear,\n                { men.                                 } reindeer,\n                                                       } mammoth.\n\nThere are remains of a cliff castle at Long Quarry Point; from its\nname one may conjecture that a church stood in Celtic times on\nKilmarie. Almost certainly this was a cliff castle, but the traces\nhave disappeared.\n\nThe old church of Tor Mohun is dedicated to S. Petrock, as is shown\nby a Bartlett will in Somerset House, in 1517. Tor Abbey has been\ncrowded into a narrow space by encroaching buildings. Cockington\nHouse and church deserve a visit, as forming a charming group.\nPaignton Church contains a very fine but mutilated tomb with rich\ncanopy and screenwork, showing that there must have been in the\nfifteenth century a native school of good figure sculptors. Marldon\nChurch is also interesting, and in that parish is the curious\nCompton Castle, of which history has little to say. Haccombe, the\nseat of the Carews, has a church crowded with fine monumental\neffigies. The mansion is about the most hideous that could be\nconceived. It is said that a Carew pulled down his fine Elizabethan\nmansion and went to Italy, leaving instructions to an architect to\nbuild him a handsome house in the Georgian style.\n\nWhen he returned and saw what had been erected: \"Well,\" said he, \"I\nbelieve that now I may take to myself the credit of possessing the\nvery ugliest house in the county.\" The situation is of exquisite\nbeauty. How lovely must have been the scene with a grave old\nElizabethan manor-house, mottled with white and yellow lichen,\nembowered in trees, above which rose the hills, the evening sun\nglittering in its many mullioned windows, while the rooks wheeled\nand cawed about it.\n\nThe little combes that dip into the estuary of the Teign, rich\nwith vegetation growing rank out of the red soil, are very\nlovely. Stoke-in-Teignhead not only has a good screen, but it\nis a parish that has never had a squire, but has been occupied\nfrom the sixteenth century by substantial yeomen, who have\nmaintained themselves there against encroaching men of many acres.\nCombe-in-Teignhead has a very fine screen and equally good old\nbenches.\n\nWolborough has a good church occupying a site that was once a camp,\nand contains an excellent screen, well restored and glittering with\ngold and colour. East Ogwell has also a screen, and the old manor\nmill is a picturesque object for the pencil. Denbury is a strong\ncamp.\n\nTorbrian, situated in a lovely spot, has fine screenwork\nand monuments of the Petres. The three Wells, Coffinswell,\nKingskerswell, and Abbotskerswell, lie together. At Kingskerswell\nare some old monumental effigies of the Prowse family. At\nAbbotskerswell are a screen, and a large statue of the Blessed\nVirgin in a niche of the window splay. This latter had been\nplastered over into one great bulk; when the plaster was removed\nthe statue was revealed. The very fine Jacobean altar-rails were\nremoved at the \"restoration,\" to make place for something utterly\nuninteresting. Here there is an early and interesting church-house.\nThe church-house was the building in which the parishioners from a\ndistance spent a rainy time between morning service and vespers. The\nhouse was divided by a floor into two storeys, that above for women,\nthat below for the men. Here were also held the church ales, that\nis to say, the ale brewed by the wardens and sold to defray church\nexpenses. The ale was also supplied on Sundays by the clerk to those\nwho tarried for evensong, and so, little by little, most of these\nold church-houses degenerated into taverns.\n\nAbbotskerswell is the seat of the Aller pottery art manufacture,\nstarted by the late Mr. John Phillips, with the object of providing\nthe village young men with remunerative work at their own homes.\nBut about this presently. The story of the inception of the work is\ninteresting.\n\nCoffinswell still possesses its holy well, that is called the \"Lady\nWell,\" used by young girls for fortune-telling.\n\nAt some little distance from this spring lies a nameless grave in\nunconsecrated ground, where is buried a lady banished holy ground\nfor her sins. Every New Year's morn, after the stroke of midnight,\nshe rises and takes \"one cock's stride\" towards the churchyard,\nwhich, when she reaches, she will find rest, and her hope is to be\nfound therein--at the crack of doom.\n\nThe three well-parishes lie about the stream of the Aller (W.\n_allwy_, to pour forth, to stream), that flows into the Teign below\nNewton Abbot. But it was not always so. At some remote period,\nwhen the great Dartmoor peaks \"stood up and took the morning,\"\nfar higher than they do now, the mountain torrents that swept the\ndetritus of quartz from Hey Tor and Rippon Tor not only filled the\nlake of Bovey with pure white china clay, till they had converted\na basin into a plain, but they also poured between red sandstone\nand limestone cliffs into the sea at Torbay. Then came a convulsion\nof nature; these latter formations rose as a wall across the\nbed of the torrent, and the spill of the granite upland passed\ndown the Teign valley. Then the little Aller was formed of the\ndrainage of the combes of the upraised barrier, and, blushing at\nits insignificance, it stole through the ancient bottom, cutting\nits modest way through the beds of quartz clay left by the former\noccupant of the valley, and, of course, flowing in a direction\nprecisely the reverse of the former flood. The deposits of the\nearlier stream remain in all the laps of the hills and folds of the\nvalley. They consist of quartz clay, somewhat coloured by admixture\nof the later rocks that have been fretted by lateral streams.\n\nThe first to discover these beds were the gipsies. They were our\nearly potters. These wandering people were wont to camp wherever\nthere was clay, and wood suitable for baking the clay. They set\ntheir rude wheels to work, and erected their equally primitive\nkilns, and spent one half the year in making pots, and the other\nhalf in vending them from place to place. When the wood supply was\nexhausted, then the Bohemians set up their potteries on another spot\nthat commended itself to them, to be again deserted when the wood\nsupplies failed once more.\n\nThe reason why the potteries at Burslem and elsewhere in\nStaffordshire have become permanent is, that there the coal is\nready at hand, and that there the native population has taken the\ntrade out of the desultory hands of the gipsies, and has worked at\nit persistently, instead of intermittently. The old stations, the\nrude kilns, the heaps of broken and imperfectly baked crocks of the\nancient potters, are often come upon in the woods of Aller vale, and\namong the heather and gorse brakes of Bovey Heathfield.\n\nThe Aller vale opens into the Teign, as already said, below Newton\nAbbot, and extends about four miles south to the village of\nKingskerswell, that stands on the crest of the red rocky barrier\nwhich diverted the course of the flood from Dartmoor. A branch of\nthe valley to the west terminates at a distance of two miles at the\npicturesque village of Abbotskerswell, and another branch to the\neast leads up to the village of Coffinswell. The deepest deposit of\nclay is at the point where the three parishes converge.\n\nJust nineteen years ago the idea of an art school was mooted in the\ndistrict. It was enthusiastically taken up by the village doctor at\nKingskerswell, in association with an institute for the labourers\nand young men of the parish, and after a little difficulty he\nsucceeded in getting hold of some premises for the purpose. This\nearnest-hearted and energetic man, Dr. Symons, did not live to see\nmore than the initiation of his scheme. By many the idea of an art\nschool among village bumpkins was viewed with mistrust, even with\ndisfavour. It was argued, and with truth, that art schools had been\nstarted in country towns, and had failed to reach a class below the\nmiddle order. Sons and daughters of artisans and labourers would\nhave none of it. Such had been the experience in Newton, such in\nTorquay. If the intelligent artisan of the town turned his back\non the art school, was it likely that Hodge would favour it? When\npeople have satisfied their minds that a certain venture is doomed\nto failure, they are very careful not to lend their names to it,\nnor to put out their finger-tips to help it in any way. It was so in\nthis case.\n\nThe managers of the Board School, when asked to lend the room for\nthe purpose, refused it. The promoters, failing in every other\ndirection, turned to a poor widow left with two sons, struggling\nhard to keep soul and body together in a modest \"cob\" (clay-walled)\ncottage with thatched roof. She was asked the loan of her kitchen,\na room measuring 21 feet by 18 feet, lighted by two small latticed\nwindows, with low open-boarded and raftered ceiling of unhewn\ntimber. Glad to earn a few pence, she consented, and the art classes\nwere started on a career of unexpected success.\n\nThe school of art began with a few pupils. A Sunday-school teacher\npersuaded his class to go to the art school, and perhaps to humour\nhim, rather than with any anticipation of profit, the boys accepted\nthe invitation. The widow's kitchen was whitewashed and clean. On\nthe hearth a log fire blazed. A few simple pictures hung on the\nwalls, and a scarlet geranium glowed in a pot in the window. A\ncouple of trestles supported a plank for a table, and a pair of\nforms served to seat the pupils. The ploughboy, with his stiff\nfingers, was set to draw straight lines, and wonderful were his\nproductions. The lines danced, trembled, wriggled, halted, then\nrushed off the page. They were crackers in their gyrations at first,\nand then rockets. By degrees the lines became less random, more\nsubdued and purposeful, and finally a crow of delight proclaimed to\nthe whole class that the curly-headed ploughboy had succeeded in\nproducing a musical bar of five fairly parallel lines. Then, with\nboth hands plunged into his pockets, young Hodge leaned back and\nwent off into a roar of laughter. It had dawned on his mind that he\ncould draw a line with a pencil on paper as true as he could with\na ploughshare in a field. He had come to the school for a lark,\nand had found that the self-satisfaction acquired by the discovery\nof his powers was a lark better than he had expected. The question\npresented itself from the outset--How was the art school to be\nmaintained? The fires must be kept in full glow, the lamps must be\nsupplied with oil, the widow must be paid to clean her floor after\nthe boys had brought over it the red mud from the lanes. As so much\nmistrust as to the advantage and prospect of success of the classes\nwas entertained, it was from the first resolved by the promoters not\nto solicit subscriptions. The whole thing was to be self-supporting.\nThis was represented to the pupils, and they readily accepted the\nsituation. They undertook to organise and keep going through the\nwinter a series of fortnightly entertainments; they would invite\nsome outsiders, but for the most part they would do their best\nthemselves to entertain. The evenings would be made lively with\nrecitations, readings, and songs. Doubtful whether such performance\nwould deserve a fixed charge for admission, the young fellows on\nputting their heads together determined to make none, but to hold a\ncap at the door when the \"pleasant evening\" was over, and let those\nwho had been entertained show their appreciation as they chose.\n\nThese fortnightly cottage entertainments became a recognised\ninstitution and a source of profit, besides serving as a means of\ninteresting and occupying the pupils. A thing that begins in a small\nway on right principles, a thing that \"hath the seed in itself,\" is\nbound to succeed.\n\nAdjoining the widow's cottage was another untenanted, like it\nconsisting of a single apartment on the ground floor. It became\nnecessary to rent this, knock a door through the wall, and combine\nthe cottages. The second room was turned into a workshop, with a\ncarpenter's bench and a chest of tools.\n\nOut of the first art school in the one well-parish grew two others,\none in each of the other well-parishes. Coffinswell has but a\npopulation of a hundred souls, nevertheless its art school has been\nfrequented by as many as twelve pupils. Sixty is the highest number\nreached by the three together, which are now combined to maintain an\nefficient art instructor.\n\nIt fell out that a stoneware pottery in the Aller vale was burnt\ndown in 1881, and when reconstructed the proprietor, who had\ncordially promoted the art classes, resolved on converting what\nhad been a factory of drain and ridge tiles into a terra-cotta\nmanufactory, in which some of the more promising pupils might\nfind employ, and in which the knowledge and dexterity acquired in\nthe class might be turned to practical uses. A single experienced\npotter was engaged, a gipsy, to start the affair, as there was no\nlocal tradition as to the manufacture of crocks upon which to go.\n\nThe classes were from the outset for boys and girls together, and\nthough recently there has been a change in this arrangement, the\nyoung women coming in the afternoon, and the young men in the\nevening, this alteration has been made owing to increase of numbers,\nnot in consequence of any rudeness or impropriety, for such there\nhad not been in the ten years of the career of the school. In this\ncase the experience has been precisely the same as that of the mixed\nschools and colleges of the United States.\n\nThere is one thing that a visitor to Torquay is certain to carry\naway with him if he has made excursions on foot about it--some of\nits red soil. The roads, in spite of the County Council, are bad,\nfor the material of which they are made is soft. But what a soil\nit is for flowers and for fruit! Anything and everything will grow\nthere and run wild. Stick a twig into the earth, and it is bound to\ngrow. As for roses and violets, they run riot there. And, taken on\nthe whole, the visitor who has been to Torquay is almost sure to\ncarry away with him something beside the red mud, something quite as\nadhesive--pleasant memories of the place and its balmy air.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\nTOTNES\n\n     The legend of Brutus--Derivation of the name--Castle--The\n     charter--Old houses--Piazzas--The church--The screen--Dartington\n     Hall--Little Hempston Rectory--Old gate--Priory--Berry Pomeroy.\n\n\nWhat a pity it is that the dear old legends that lie at the root\nof history have been dissipated! That we can no longer believe in\nRomulus and Remus and the she-wolf--no, not even when the Lupercale\nremains on the side of the Palatine Hill, after the palaces of\nAugustus, of Tiberius, of Caligula, of Septimius Severus, have been\nlevelled with the dust.\n\nHow cruel, too, that the delightful story of Alfred and the cakes,\nthat also of Edwin and Elgiva, are relegated to the region of\nfables; that we are told there never was such a person as King\nArthur, and that S. George for Merry England never was a gallant\nknight, and certainly slew no dragon, nor delivered fair maid!\n\nDust we are, but is it absolutely necessary that all human history,\nand the history of nature, should spring out of dust? that the\nevents of the childhood of our race should have been all orderly\nand unromantic, as if every nationality had been bred in trimness\nas a Board School scholar? Now, what if we could believe that\nold gossiping--I am afraid I must add lying--historian, Geoffrey\nof Monmouth! Why, the transformation scene at a pantomime would be\nnothing to the blaze of wonders and romance in the midst of which\nthe England of history steps on to the stage.\n\n[Illustration: ON THE DART]\n\nAh! if we could but believe old Geoffrey, or the British book which\nhe saw and translated, why, then, Totnes would be the most revered\nspot in England, as that where the first man set his foot when he\nlanded in an uncultivated, unpeopled island. Is there not on the\nPalatine the Lupercale, the very den in which the she-wolf suckled\nRomulus and Remus, to prove the tale? Are there not Arthur's Seats\nenough in Cornwall, Wales, Cumberland, Scotland, to show that there\nmust have been an Arthur to sit in them? And is there not the stone\nin the high street of Totnes on which Brut, when he landed, set his\nfoot to establish against all doubters the existence of Brut and the\nfact of his landing there?\n\nThe story is this.\n\nAs it fell upon a day there was a certain king called Sylvius in\nItaly, and when he was about to become a father he consulted a\nmagician, who by the stars could tell all that was to be. Now this\nmagician read that the child that was to be born to Sylvius would be\nthe death of his father and mother.\n\nIn course of time the child was born, and at his birth his mother\ndied. \"He's a Brute,\" said King Sylvius, and so that was his name.\n\nBut King Sylvius did not have his child exposed to wild beasts; he\ngave it to be nursed by a good woman, who reared the \"Brute\" till he\nwas fifteen.\n\nNow it fell out that one day King Sylvius went a-hunting in the\nmerry greenwood with horn and hounds, and the little \"Brute,\"\nhearing the winding of the horn and the music of the hounds, picked\nup the bow he himself had made, and with the arrows he himself also\nhad winged, forth he went to the chase. Alas! it so fell out that\nthe first arrow he shot pierced his father's heart.\n\nOn this account Brute had to fly the country.\n\n    \"And away he fared to the Grecian land,\n      With a hey! with a ho! and a nonny O!\n    And there he gathered a stalwart band,\n      And the ships they sail on the blue sea O!\"\n\nNow the mother of Brute had been a Trojan, so all the refugees,\nafter the destruction of Troy, gathered about the young prince, and\nformed a large body of men. Brute took to wife Ignogne, daughter of\nPandrasos, King of the Greeks, and resolved to sail away in quest of\na new country. So the king, his father-in-law, gave him ships and\nlading, and he started. A fair wind swelled his sails, and he sailed\nover the deep blue sea till he reached a certain island called\nLoegria, which was all solitary, for it had been wasted by pirates.\nBut Brute went on shore, and found an old deserted and ruinous\ntemple, and there he lit three fires, and he sacrificed a white\nhart, and poured the blood mingled with wine on the broken altar,\nand he sang:--\n\n    \"Sweet goddess above, in the light of love,\n      That high through the blue doth sail,\n    O tell me who rove in the woodland grove,\n      O tell me, and do not fail,\n    Where I shall rest--and thine altar dressed,\n      Shall finish this wandering tale.\"\n\nThese words he repeated nine times, after which he took four turns\nround the altar, and laid himself down on the skin of the white\nhart and fell asleep. About the third hour of the night he saw a\nbeautiful form appear with the new moon in her hair, and a sceptre\nwith the morning star shining on its point, and she said to him:--\n\n    \"Far, far away in the ocean blue,\n      There lieth an island fair,\n    Which giants possessed, but of them are few\n      That linger to haunt it there.\n    O there shalt thou reign, in a pleasant plain\n      Shalt found thee a city rare,\n    From thee shall a line of heroes divine\n      Carry triumph everywhere.\"\n\nWhen Brute woke he was much encouraged by the vision, and he\nreturned to his ship, hoisted the mainsail, and away, away, before\nthe wind the ship flew, throwing up foam from her bows, and leaving\na track as milk in the sea behind. He passed through the Straits\nof Gibraltar and coasted up Aquitaine, and rounded the Cape of\nFinisterre, and at length, with a fair wind, crossed the sea, and\ncame to the marble cliffs of Dunan Dyffnaint, the land of deep\nvales, and in the cliffs opened a great rift, down which flowed a\nbeautiful river, and he sailed up it. And lo! on either side were\ngreen pastures spangled with buttercups, and forests of mighty oaks\nand beech, and over his head the white gulls screamed, and in the\nwater the broad-winged herons dipped; and so he sailed, and before\nhim rose a red cliff; and now the tide began to fall. So he ran his\nship up against the cliff and leapt ashore, and where he leaped\nthere his foot made its impress on the red rock, which remains even\nunto this day. Then, when Brute had landed, he sat himself down and\nsaid:--\n\n    \"Here I sit, and here I rest,\n    And this town shall be called Totnes.\"\n\nWhich shows that Brute had not much idea of rhyme, nor of measure in\nhis rhyme.\n\nIt must be told that the very spot where Brute sprang ashore is\nhalf-way up the hill from the river Dart, up which he sailed; but\nthen the river was much fuller in those days, or men's legs were\nlonger.\n\nTotnes, in fact, occupies a promontory of red sandstone rock, round\nwhich the river not only winds, but anciently swept up a creek that\nran for two miles. In fact there was a labyrinth of creeks there;\none between Totnes and the sea, another between Totnes and the\nmainland, so that the town was accessible on one side only, and that\nside was strongly fortified by castle and earthworks. The creek\nto the south still fills with water; its mouth is below Sharpham,\nand the tide now rises only as far as Bow Bridge. Formerly it ran\nquite a mile further up. The town of Totnes, in fact, occupies one\npoint alone in a ness or promontory that was formerly, when the tide\nrose, flushed with water on the three sides. It has, however, been\nsupposed that the term Totnes applies to the whole of that portion\nof South Devon to the coast; some even assert to the whole peninsula\nof Devon and Cornwall. The creeks have silted up with the rich red\nmud, and with the washings from the tin mines on Dartmoor, to such\nan extent that the true ness character of the little district of\nTotnes and the villages of Ashprington and Harberton has not been\nrecognised. It is a hilly district, and the clefts which formerly\nfilled with water are natural dykes fortifying it.\n\nThe Ikenild Street, which was a British trackway, passed through\nTotnes, which is the old Durium of the Itineraries. The river Dart\nis the Dour, that comes out as Durium in Latin, and is simply the\nCeltic word for water. We have it again in Dorovernia, Dover, and in\nDorchester, the castle or camp on the water.\n\nThe name Totnes is probably Saxon, from _tot_, _toten_, \"to\nproject,\" as in Tothill, Tottenham; and we have it again in a\npromontory on the coast, as Dodman's Nose, which is peculiar, for\nthis is a combination of three languages. _Dod_ is the Saxon, _man_\nis the Celtic _maen_, stone or rock, and _ness_ is the Scandinavian\nnose or headland.\n\nThe railway station and line to Plymouth now occupy the old\ncreek, up which barges, and undoubtedly smuggled spirits, went to\nDartington. Anyone standing on the Dartington side and looking\nacross at Totnes will see at once what was the old character of this\nheadland. The town occupies a long ridge, which reached to the river\nby one street that ran its entire length. The magnificent church\nof red sandstone, with its grand tower and pinnacles, occupies the\ncentre, and on the land side, the only side assailable, towered up\nthe castle on a mound that was thrown up in prehistoric times.\n\nThe castle is now ruined; the circular \"mote\" remains, and a few\ncrumbling walls and great elm trees full of rooks' nests rise in the\nplace of towers and battlements. The grounds about the ruins have\nbeen nicely laid out, and what remains of the castle is saved from\nfurther disintegration. The character was very much that of other\ncastles in the West, as Rougemont, Plympton, and Launceston. There\nwas no square keep, but a circular drum, and a large yard surrounded\nby walls that stood on earlier earthworks. A picturesque gate gives\naccess to the town near the castle. The town itself is quaint and\nfull of interesting relics. A great number of the houses date from\nElizabethan times, and belonged to the wealthy merchants of Totnes,\nwhich was a great place for the manufacture of woollen cloth. Indeed\nin the twelfth and thirteenth centuries it was already famous.\n\nTotnes is one of the oldest boroughs in the country. Its earliest\ncharter dates from 1205, and I believe I am right in saying that at\na dinner at the Mansion House given by a Lord Mayor of London within\nthe last few years to the mayors of England, precedence was given to\nthe representative of the borough of Totnes over all others.\n\nThe houses of the merchants of Totnes have been sadly tampered with.\nThe requirements of modern trade exact large shop-fronts, and to\nsatisfy the demand of the public to see at a glance what is to be\nsold within, the venerable houses have been transformed externally,\nat all events on the ground-floor. But let anyone interested in\nsuch things go within and ask to be shown the panelled rooms and\nplaster ceilings, and he will see much to interest and delight. A\npeculiarly fine piece of plaster-work is in the parlour of the local\nbookseller, and if the visitor desires to have his hair cut he can\nhave it done in a chamber of the local barber, where the woodwork is\nof the sixteenth century.\n\nTotnes preserves its old piazzas, or covered ways in High Street,\nvery much like those of Berne or an Italian city, or, indeed, of\nthe _bastides_ or free cities built by our Edward I. in his duchy\nof Guyenne, of which Montpazier, Beaumont, St. Foye are notable\nexamples, and seem to show that piazzas were a common feature of\nEnglish towns and of towns built under English influence in the\nthirteenth century. The same sort of thing is found at Chester, but\nnot, that I am aware, in any other English towns. If in Italy these\ncovered ways are an advantage, in that it allows those who walk\nalong the streets to look in at the shop windows with comfort when\nthe sun is shining, in Totnes it allows them the same advantage when\nthe rain is falling;\n\n  \"And the rain it raineth every day.\"\n\nOne unpardonable outrage has been committed at Totnes. There existed\nin front of the churchyard and in continuation of the piazza, a\nbutter market, which consisted of an enlarged piazza, supported on\ngranite pillars of the beginning of the seventeenth century. The\nvulgar craving to show off the parish church when so many pounds,\nshillings, and pence had been spent on its restoration; the fear\nlest visitors should fail to see that the shopkeepers of Totnes had\nput their hands into their pockets to do up their church, made them\ndestroy this picturesque and unique feature.\n\nThe church itself is a very fine building. It was originally a\nNorman structure of the eleventh century, but was rebuilt in the\nthirteenth, and is, as it now stands, a structure of Perpendicular\nwork of the fifteenth century. It is of red sandstone, of a warm\nand pleasant colour. In the tower are niches containing figures\nof saints of lighter colour. The church has gone through a\nrestoration more or less satisfactory, or unsatisfactory, at the\nhands of the late Sir G. Gilbert Scott, who had no feeling for\nPerpendicular work. It is a stately church; its chief glory is a\nsuperb rood-screen of carved stone, erected in 1460, and richly\ncoloured and gilt. This supported a wide gallery that extended\nover half the chancel, and access to this gallery was obtained by\na splendid carved and gilt newel staircase in the chancel. The\ntop of the screen is delicately spread into fan-work, intended to\nsustain the beam of the gallery. In the so-called restoration of\nthe church the entire gallery was removed, consequently the stair\nleads to vacancy and the screen supports nothing. Moreover, one of\nthe most striking effects of the church was destroyed. A broad belt\nof shadow was designed to cross the chancel, behind the screen,\nthrowing up, on one side, the gilded tracery of the screen, and on\nthe other, the flood of light that bathed the sanctuary and altar.\nAll this is gone, and the effect is now absolutely commonplace.\nThere are screens near Totnes of extraordinary richness--at Great\nHempston, Ipplepen, Harberton, and Berry Pomeroy--covered with gold\nand adorned with paintings. But none are perfect. A screen consisted\nof three parts. The lower was the sustaining arcade, then came the\nfan-groining to support the gallery, above that, the most splendid\nfeature of all, the gallery back, which consisted of a series of\ncanopied compartments containing paintings representing the gospel\nstory. This still exists in Exeter Cathedral; the uppermost member\nis also to be seen at Atherington, as has been already stated, but\neverywhere else it has disappeared.\n\nFormerly there stood a reredos at the east end of the chancel of\nGrecian design, singularly out of character with the building, but\nhardly worse than the contemptible concern that has been erected in\nits place.\n\nAt the east end of the church, on the outside, the apprentices\nof Totnes were wont to sharpen their knives, and the stones are\ncuriously rubbed away in the process.\n\nThe registers of Totnes are very early and of great interest, as\ncontaining much information concerning the old merchant families and\nthe landed gentry of the neighbourhood with whom they married.\n\nThe nearest great manorial house is that of Dartington, which was\na mansion of the Hollands, Dukes of Exeter, and now belongs to the\nChampernownes. It possesses ruins of the splendid hall, of the date\nof Richard II., whose device, a white hart chained, appears repeated\nseveral times. On the opposite side of the river is the most\ninteresting and unique parsonage of Little Hempston, a perfectly\nuntouched building of the fourteenth century, exactly the priest's\nhouse of the time of Chaucer. The house consists of a structure\noccupying four sides of a tiny quadrangle. It has a hall, buttery,\nkitchen, and solar. Every window, except that of the hall, looks\ninto the little court, which is just twenty feet square, and the\nrooms accordingly are gloomy. The late John Keble, who was often\na visitor at Dartington Parsonage, would, when missing, be found\nthere, dreaming over the life of the parish priest in the Middle\nAges.\n\nA very singular circumstance is connected with the old Champernownes\nof Dartington. Gawaine Champernowne was married to the Lady Roberta,\ndaughter of the Count de Montgomeri, leader of the Huguenots. On\naccount of her misconduct she was divorced in 1582, by Act of\nParliament passed for the purpose. However, oddly to relate, no\nsooner were they divorced than they patched up their quarrel and\ncontinued to live together as husband and wife, and had a large\nfamily. Happily the eldest son and heir was born before the Act was\npassed, or in all certainty he would have been illegitimate in the\neye of the law. But the two younger sons and three daughters were\nthe issue after the divorce.\n\nThe old south gate of Totnes still remains, and at one time the\nchamber over it was a public-house. It has since been converted into\na reading-room, and contains some good wood-carving of the Tudor age\nand a fine plaster cornice.\n\nOn the north side of the church are the remains of the old priory of\nS. Mary, founded by Judael, Earl of Totnes, at the Conquest. These\nhave been transformed into guildhall, prisons, and sexton's houses.\nThe priory must have been a modest building. It stood just within\nthe old town walls, which may be traced in fairly good preservation\nthence to the south gate. The church of Totnes is a vicarial church,\nas Judael granted it to the Benedictine Abbey of Saints Sergius and\nBacchus at Angers.\n\nThe priors had the right of presentation to the parish church up to\nthe time of the dissolution of the religious houses, except during\nthe wars with France, when the Crown appointed, this being an alien\npriory.\n\nIn 1414 there was a quarrel in the church between the prior and one\nJohn Southam, what about we do not know. They seem to have punched\neach other's nose, so as to bring blood; whereupon the church was\nclosed till the bishop could hold investigation whether the sacred\nedifice had been desecrated thereby. Bishop Stafford did hold\ninquiry, and in ecclesiastical language, and with proper gravity,\npronounced that the case was \"fudge,\" that the matter had been made\na great deal more of than there was occasion, and that the vicar was\nto recommence services in the church.\n\nTorbrian Church, picturesquely situated in a glen, has been already\nalluded to. This parish is the cradle of Lord Petre's family.\n\nThe splendid ruins of Berry Pomeroy Castle are within a walk or\ndrive, and will repay a visit, not only from the interest of the\nremains, but also from the beauty of the situation on the brow of\nrock overhanging the water.\n\nBelow the town of Totnes is the quay, at which the steamboat may be\nentered for the beautiful descent of the Dart to Dartmouth.\n\nOn all sides, peeping out of woods, above smooth lawns, backed by\norchards, appear numerous smiling villas. It would seem that many\nwell-to-do people have come to the same conclusion as did Brute, and\nhave made Totnes their seat, saying:--\n\n  \"Here I sit--and here I rest.\"\n\nAnd the visitor will think that old Brute was no fool when he said\nthat, and will wish that he could do the same.\n\n  NOTE.--Books on Totnes:--\n\n  COTTON (W.), _Graphic and Historical Sketch of the Antiquities of\n  Totnes_. London: Longman, 1850.\n\n  WINDEATT (E.), \"An Historical Sketch of Totnes,\" in the _Transactions\n  of the Devonshire Association_, 1880.\n\n  DYMOND (R.), \"Ancient Documents relating to the Civil History of\n  Totnes,\" in the _Transactions of the Devonshire Association_, 1880.\n\n[Illustration: DARTMOUTH CASTLE]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\nDARTMOUTH\n\n  A first visit to Dartmouth--Descent of the Dart--The Church of S.\n  Saviour--John Hawley--The Butter Row--Slate-covered houses--The\n  Ship Inn--Walk to the sea--Warfleet--S. Petrock's--The\n  Castle--Attacks on Dartmouth--The Golden Strand--Kingswear--Burying\n  under foundations--Newcomen--Sir Walter Raleigh\n  and his pipe--Slapton Lea--Dame Juliana Hawkins--Visits to be\n  made--What not to be done.\n\n\nI will tell you how I first saw Dartmouth before I proceed to say\nanything about it, and then the reader will perhaps understand the\npeculiar affection with which I write about it.\n\nIt happened early one June that I had made every arrangement to go\nwith a friend a walking tour among the Dolomite Alps. We were to\nmeet in town and cross the Channel together to Antwerp.\n\nAt the last moment some particularly vexatious business cropped\nup which detained me, and I had to wire to my friend that I could\nnot be with him on the day fixed, but would, if possible, meet him\nin Cologne. In two days I saw it was all up with my Continental\nexcursion, and I was obliged to telegraph to Cologne that my friend\nmust go on his way by himself.\n\nNow when a man has been slaving at his desk all winter, and has\nbeen planning out every stage of his tour, and has thought, talked,\nwritten, dreamed of it for months--then to see his hope blasted\nis enough to make him cross. Cross accordingly I was; so cross,\nthat the best and most long-suffering of wives advised me to go\nsomewhere. \"Somewhere,\" thought I; \"why, I have never been down the\nDart, have never seen Dartmouth.\" So I took the advice given me and\nstarted.\n\nWhat a day that was when I spun along the Great Western Railway from\nPlymouth to Totnes. The day was resplendent with sun, and yet not\ntoo hot. The orchards everywhere were a mass of flowers, from white\nto pink. I had hit precisely on the time and train whereby a number\nof English officers, just landed from the Soudan at Plymouth, were\ndispersing to their homes. In the same carriage with me was a young\nofficer who had bought a number of _Funny Folks_ and was immersed\nin it. A brother officer came to the carriage-window, after we had\nreached a second station, and addressing my fellow-traveller through\nthe window exclaimed, \"I say, did you ever see the like of this,\nold chap? We are going through waves of colour, a sea of flowers. I\nnever saw anything to equal it--and after the sands of Egypt, old\nboy!\" The bell rang and he had to run back to his carriage. \"Yes;\nall right,\" was the response of the man in my compartment, and down\nwent his head and thoughts among _Funny Folks_.\n\nAt the next station the second officer was again at our window,\nand again addressing the reader of the periodical, \"I say, Jones!\ntalk of Araby the Blessed, it isn't worth mention in the same day\nwith ten thousand times more lovely, blessed, dear old England.\nBy George! old chap, I want to look out of both windows at once.\nI can't see enough of it. I feel as if I could cry, it is so\nbeautiful!\"\n\n\"Ah! indeed,\" responded the reader, and down went his head into his\npaper, and did not look off it again. \"Truly,\" I thought, \"what a\nblessing to publishers that all men have not the sense of beauty;\nand what a blessing it is to men like myself that we are not\naddicted to the grotesque.\"\n\nThe descent of the Dart should be made as I made it then, on an\nearly summer evening when the sun is in decline, and the lawns are\nyellow with buttercups, when the mighty oaks and beeches are casting\nlong shadows, and the reaches of the river are alternately sheets of\nquivering gold and of purple ink.\n\nAs I went down the river, all dissatisfaction at my lot passed away,\nand by the time Dartmouth came in view I could no longer refrain\nmyself, but threw my cap into the air, and barely caught it from\nfalling overboard as I shouted, \"Hurrah for merry England! Verily it\nhas scenes that are unrivalled in the whole world.\"\n\nIndeed now, in gravity, as I write this, I cannot think that I\nhave ever seen any sight lovelier than Dartmouth on an evening in\nearly summer, with Kingswear opposite, the one bathed in soft sweet\nshadow, and the other glittering and golden in the sun's declining\nrays.\n\nThe sea is not visible from Dartmouth, which is hemmed in by hills\nthat rise to a great height on every side, shutting in the basin of\nwater that is the port of Dartmouth, and shutting out all winds.\nThe town itself is full of picturesque bits. The church, dedicated\nto S. Saviour, is really a chapelry in the parish of Townstal, the\nchurch of which, set as a beacon on a hill, is two miles distant,\nand reached by a scramble. The church of Dartmouth was built at\nthe end of the fourteenth century, and has happily escaped the\nreckless restoration which has befallen Totnes. What has been done\nhas been reparative, and all in the best taste. The church contains\na magnificent painted and gilt wood screen, and a pulpit of the\nsame character, with the royal badges of later date on its sides.\nA gallery runs round three sides of the church, over the aisles;\nthat is of Elizabethan date, and the panels in front are emblazoned\nwith the arms of the merchant princes of the town at the time of\nits prosperity. A curious door, covered with iron-work of very\nrich description, representing lions impaled on an oak tree, bears\nthe date 1631, but this merely represents the restoration of the\nwoodwork of the door. In the floor of the church is the brass of\nJohn Hawley, merchant, who died in 1408, and his two wives, Joan,\nwho died in 1394, and Alice, who died in 1403; there can be little\ndoubt as to which of the wives he loved best, for he is represented\nholding the hand of the first. This is the Hawley, merchant of\nDartmouth, mentioned by old Stow in his _Annals_, who, in 1390,\n\"waged the navie of shippes of the ports of his own charges, and\ntook 34 shippes laden with wyne to the sum of fifteen hundred\ntunnes.\" The visitor may compare the costume worn by the ladies on\nthe brass with the description given by Stow of the fashion that\nthen set in: \"This time was used exceeding pride in garments, gownes\nwith deepe and broad sleeves, commonly called peake sleeves, whereof\nsome hung downe to their feete, and at least to the knees, ful of\ncuts and jagges.\"\n\nAmong the old houses in the town, unhappily fast disappearing, must\nbe noted those in Butter Row, a short piazza like that at Totnes,\nand in one of these is a very fine carved oak chimney-piece, that\nmerits examination.\n\nOther old houses are in Fosse Street and the Shambles. A peculiarity\nof the old Dartmouth houses is that they are covered with small\nslates, cut into various devices, and forming elegant patterns, that\ncover them as a coat of mail against the rain. Forty years ago there\nwere many of these picturesque old houses, they are now woefully\nreduced in numbers.\n\nThe \"Ship Inn\" is an old-fashioned hostel, very comfortable, and\nthough modernised externally, yet has much that is characteristic\nof an old inn in the inside. I was dining there one evening when\nthe train from town had arrived, and launched its passengers into\nDartmouth. Among these happened to be a German, who was on his way\nby the Donald Currie boat to the Cape. He came into the dining-room\nof the \"Ship,\" seated himself at a table at a little distance from\nme, and signed that he wanted something to eat.\n\nThe courteous, elderly waiter bowed and said, \"What will you have,\nsir, soup?\"\n\n\"Yesh! yesh!\"\n\n\"There is vermicelli.\"\n\n\"Yesh! yesh!\"\n\n\"And Julienne.\"\n\n\"Yesh! yesh!\"\n\n\"And ox-tail.\"\n\n\"Yesh! yesh!\"\n\n\"And mulligatawny.\"\n\n\"Yesh! yesh!\"\n\n\"And fish, sir. Would you like some?\"\n\n\"Oh, yesh! yesh!\"\n\n\"There is some turbot.\"\n\n\"Yesh! yesh!\"\n\n\"And a nice pair of soles.\"\n\n\"Yesh! yesh!\"\n\n\"And some brill.\"\n\n\"Oh, yesh! yesh!\"\n\n\"And perhaps you would like, sir, a mayonnaise of lobster?\"\n\n\"Oh, yesh! yesh!\"\n\nIt was time for me to interfere. I jumped up and hastened to the\nassistance of the poor German, and said in his own tongue: \"I beg\nyour pardon for my interference, sir, but _are_ you ordering dinner\nfor yourself or for the entire crew? You will, I know, excuse me,\nbut I thought it advisable to speak before it came to the wine list.\"\n\n\"Ach, du lieber Herr!\" gasped the German. \"I know but one English\nword, and that is Yesh. Will you be so merciful as to order dinner\nfor me?\"\n\nI at once entered into consultation with the waiter, and settled all\nmatters agreeably.\n\nA charming walk may--no, must, be taken from Dartmouth to the sea;\nthe street, very narrow, runs between houses for a long way, giving\nglimpses of the water, of old bastions and towers, of gardens\nhanging on the steep slopes, of fuchsias and pelargoniums running\nriot in the warm, damp air, of red rock and green foliage, jumbled\ntogether in the wildest picturesqueness, of the blue, still water\nbelow, with gulls, living foam-flakes swaying, chattering over the\nsurface. Then the road has to bend round Warfleet, a lovely bay\nbowered in woods, with an old mill and a limekiln, and barges lying\nby, waiting for lime or for flour. When this has been passed, and,\nalas! a very ugly modern house that disfigures one of the loveliest\nscenes in South Devon, a headland is reached by a walk under trees,\nand all at once a corner is turned, and a venerable church and a\ncastle are revealed, occupying the rocky points that command the\nentrance of Dartmouth Harbour.\n\nThe church undoubtedly served as chapel to the castle, but is far\nolder in dedication than any portion of the castle, for it is\ndedicated to the purely British Saint Petrock, who lived in the\nsixth century.\n\nThe church is small, much mutilated, and contains a number of old\nmonuments, and some brasses to the Roope and Plumleigh families. On\nthe opposite side of the estuary is another castle.\n\nThe castle that adjoins is supposed to date from the reign of Henry\nVII., but one existed in the same spot at an earlier date. Edward\nIV., in 1481, covenanted with the men of Dartmouth to pay them\nannually \u00a330 from the customs of Exeter and Dartmouth, on condition\nof their building a \"stronge and myghtye and defensyve new tower,\"\nand of their protecting the harbour with a chain. Certainly, the men\nof Dartmouth earned their money cheaply, for \"the myghtye tower\" is\na very small affair.\n\nFor their own interest one would have supposed they would have\nerected a greater fortress, as Dartmouth suffered severely at times\nfrom pirates and French fleets. In 1377 it was plundered by the\nFrench, who in the same year swept our shores from Rye to Plymouth.\nIn 1403 it returned the visit of the French; in 1404 a French fleet\nsucceeded in putting into Black Pool, a little to the right of the\nentrance to the Dart, but the Dartmouth men armed and came down the\nsteep sides of the bay upon the French, killed their leader, and\nforced them to regain their vessels and put off to sea. The French\nlost four hundred men and two hundred prisoners in the engagement.\n\nOn the attempted invasion by the Spanish Armada, in 1588, two\nvessels, the _Crescent_ and the _Haste_, were fitted out, and the\nformer is said to have been engaged with one of the Spanish vessels.\nIn 1592, the _Madre de Dios_, one of the great Indian \"carracks\" or\nplate ships, was taken on her way to Spain, and was brought into\nDartmouth. She was a floating castle of seven decks, and was laden\nwith silver, spices, rare woods, and tapestries. The neighbouring\ngentry and townsmen of Dartmouth began to clear the prize for the\nadornment of their own houses, and commissioners were sent from\nLondon to recover as much of the spoil as was possible.\n\nThere is a bay near Black Pool which goes by the name of the Golden\nStrand, because a vessel was wrecked there laden with treasure, and\nto this day gold coins are occasionally picked up on the beach. In\nthe basement of the tower of Dartmouth Castle are still the traces\nof where the iron chain or boom was fastened that could be stretched\nacross the entrance to the harbour in time of war.\n\nThat smuggling was carried on to a very large extent on this coast\nin former times cannot be doubted. Indeed, the caves artificially\nconstructed for the purpose of holding \"run\" goods still exist in\nseveral places; and many capital stories are told of the good old\nsmuggling days, and the way in which the revenue officers were\ncheated.\n\nImmediately opposite Dartmouth is Kingswear, situated on the\nsteep slope of rock that runs precipitously to the sea. There is\na curious circumstance connected with the church. In 1845, the\nchurch was pulled down, when under the foundation was discovered\na cavity cut in the rock filled with infant bones and quicklime.\nThere is but too much reason to believe that we have here one of\nthe many instances that remain of the old heathen belief that no\nbuilding would stand unless a man or child were buried under the\nfoundation. A few years ago, when the parish church of Wickersley,\nLincolnshire, was rebuilt by Sir G. Gilbert Scott, on raising the\nfoundations the complete skeleton of a man was found laid lengthwise\nunder the masonry. At Holsworthy, North Devon, in the same way, a\nskeleton was discovered with much lime about it in the wall, as if\nto hasten decomposition. The custom still exists in the East. In\n1860, the King of Burmah (father of Theebaw) rebuilt Mandalay. On\nthat occasion fifty-three individuals were buried alive, three under\neach of the twelve gates, one under each of the palace gates, and\nfour under the throne itself. In 1880 the virtue was supposed to\nhave evaporated, and Theebaw proposed to repeat the ceremony with\none hundred victims, but I believe the actual number sacrificed was\nabout twenty-five. The Burmans believe that the nals or spirits of\nthe persons buried guard the gates and attack persons approaching\nwith hostile intentions. Precisely similar convictions were common\nall over Europe.\n\nIn S. Saviour's, Dartmouth, in the chancel, is buried the skull of\nSir Charles McCarthy, who was for a while Governor of Sierra Leone,\nand was killed at Accra, in an encounter with the Ashantees, January\n21st, 1824; the skull was greatly prized by the Ashantees, who had\npossessed themselves of it, and with it they decorated the war-drum\nof the king. The skull was happily recovered in 1829, and was\nbrought to Dartmouth, where it was buried with some ceremony.\n\nDartmouth was the birthplace of Newcomen, who introduced a notable\nimprovement in steam engines. According to the first form of his\ndiscovery, the steam was condensed by sending a current of cold\nwater on the outside of the cylinder, an arrangement that required a\nboy to be always at hand with a bucket of water. Watt's improvement\nof employing steam to drive down the piston was invented whilst\nhe was repairing one of Newcomen's engines. Newcomen was baptised\nat Dartmouth in 1663; he died in 1729. His house was removed in\n1864, but some of the old carved oak has been utilised in Newcomen\nCottage, Townstal, as well as the \"clovel\" or wooden lintel over the\nfireplace at which Newcomen sat watching the steam puffing from his\nmother's kettle, and first conceived the idea of employing steam\nas a force for propelling engines. A chimney-piece of plaster,\nrepresenting Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego before Nebuchadnezzar,\nis at Brookhill House, on the Kingswear side of the river. This same\nhandsome chimney-piece, of oak, came from Greenway, up the Dart,\nwhere lived Sir Walter Raleigh, and it is said that it was before\nthe fire kindled under this chimney-piece that the great navigator\nindulged in the first pipe of tobacco he ever smoked in England.\nThere is a story told of Sir Walter being called in with his pipe\nfor a very novel purpose at Littleham. There lived there a gentleman\nof Dutch or German extraction, named Creveldt, who had been at\ndeadly feud with a neighbour, Sir Roger de Wheelingham, and the\nlatter died without any reconciliation. Thenceforth, Creveldt was\ntormented from sunset to sunrise by the ghost of his enemy. He could\nnot rest; he could not eat, and, worst of all, he could not drink.\nThe days for exorcising ghosts were over. He called in the parson,\nbut the parson could do nothing. Matters were in this condition when\nan Exeter trading vessel, commanded by Captain Izaaks, anchored\nnear Exmouth. The captain heard of Creveldt's trouble; he was under\nsome obligation to him, and he at once visited him. He heard his\npiteous tale, and said: \"In ancient times I have been told that\nincense was used against stubborn ghosts. I have heard that now Sir\nWalter Raleigh has introduced a novel sort of incense much more\nefficacious. Let us send for him.\"\n\nAccordingly, Sir Walter was invited. He instructed Creveldt how to\nsmoke tobacco; and the fumes of the pipe proved too much for the\nghost The spirit departed, coughing and sneezing, to the tobaccoless\nworld.\n\nNo visitor should fail to visit Slapton Lea--a bar of pebble and\nsand tossed up by the sea, over which runs the coach-road to\nKingsbridge--an excursion well meriting being made. The streams\ndescending from the land are held back from entering the sea by this\nridge, and form a lake that not only abounds in fish, and attracts\nwater birds, but also contains water plants.\n\nAt Slapton lived Sir Richard and Dame Juliana Hawkins, in a house\ncalled Pool.\n\nDame Juliana was a haughty woman, and the story is told that she\nwould not go to church except on a carpet. Accordingly, when she\nwent to Slapton Church to pay her devotions, a couple of negro\nservants proceeded before her unrolling a carpet of red velvet.\n\nOn the river is Dittisham, and how the salmon do congregate in the\npool there! It is a great place for figs and plums, and should be\nseen when the plum trees are in flower. The view from the parsonage\ngarden, commanding two reaches of the river, is exquisite. But for\nloveliness of situation, Stoke Gabriel in a lap or creek, facing the\nsun, shut away from every wind, is the most perfect.\n\nA good picturesque modern house has been erected at a point\ncommanding Dartmouth, on the opposite side at Maypool (F. C.\nSimpson, Esq.), that is a real feature of beauty in the landscape.\n\nAt Stoke Fleming is a fine brass.\n\nThe time when Dartmouth may be seen to advantage--I am not speaking\nnow of the river--is at the autumn regatta. Then the quaint old\nplace is _en f\u00eate_. The little square that opens on to the quay is\ndevoted to dancing. Lights flare, flags wave, music peals forth, and\nthe Mayor opens the ball in the open air. It is a sight not to be\nseen elsewhere in England--when viewed from the river it is like a\nscene on the stage.\n\nThere is one thing you must do at Dartmouth, because you cannot help\ndoing so--enjoy yourself. But there is one thing you must on no\naccount do--offend a single, though the most insignificant, member\nof the town. If you do, the whole population is out on you like a\nhive of angry bees--for in a place so shut in by hills and water\neveryone is related.\n\nSir Charles McCarthy, as already related, has left his head at\nDartmouth. As the visitor leaves by the little steamer to remount\nthe Dart, and looks at the lovely estuary, the hills embowered in\ntrees, the picturesque old town--he feels, perhaps, like myself, as\nif he had left his heart there.\n\n     NOTE.--Works on Dartmouth:--\n\n     KARKEEK (P. Q.), \"Notes on the Early History of Dartmouth,\" in\n     the _Transactions of the Devonshire Association_, 1880.\n\n     KARKEEK (P. Q.), \"The Shipping and Commerce of Dartmouth in the\n     Reign of Richard II.,\" _ibid._, 1881.\n\n     NEWMAN (Dr.), \"On the Antiquity of Dartmouth,\" _ibid._, 1869.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\nKINGSBRIDGE\n\n     Kingsbridge a misnomer--The estuary--The church--\"Farewell\n     to Kingsbridge\"--Numerous screens in the\n     neighbourhood--Portlemouth--S. Onolaus--Master John Schorn--Old\n     houses--The Fortescues--Defence of Salcombe Castle--Lea\n     Priory--Stokenham--Slapton--Bolt Head--The Avon--Oldaport on\n     the Erme--Modbury--The Champernownes--Bigbury--The Owl--S.\n     Anne's Well--Parson Lane--Aveton Gifford--Bishop Stapledon--His\n     murder--Fishing.\n\n\nKingsbridge is a curious town, having a name that is a misnomer,\nfor it possesses no bridge, there being no river. The estuary that\nruns some five to six miles in, at the head of which Kingsbridge\nstands, is a creek into which no river discharges, only brooks. It\nhas several lateral branches--to Gerston, Frogmore, and South Pool,\nand at the mouth is Salcombe, a flourishing place, much in resort on\naccount of the mildness of the climate, surpassing Torquay in this\nrespect, and nearly as warm as Falmouth. The drawback to Salcombe is\nits distance from a railway.\n\nIn Kingsbridge itself there is not much to be seen. The church is\ninteresting, with a central tower and spire, and is curious as\nhaving been enlarged at various times, making the interior very\ninconvenient for the hearing of the preacher.\n\nKingsbridge is actually in Churchstow. The town has drifted down\nfrom the high ground where was the fortified \"stoke\" to the quay,\nthe \"brig.\" The church in the town is a chapelry, and the erection\ntook place in 1310. It is dedicated to S. Edmund the king and\nmartyr, but why in the world they should have gone to the East\nSaxons for a patron I am at a loss to know. Churchstow belonged to\nthe Abbey of Buckfast.\n\nOne half of Kingsbridge is in the parish of Dodbrooke, where there\nis a good church with a fine old screen.\n\nThere is a local ballad preserved relative to the departure of some\ntroops for America quartered in the place in 1778-80, and there are\nold men in Kingsbridge who can recall the time when a detachment of\nmilitary was there. The ballad runs:--\n\n    \"On the ninth day of November, at the dawning in the sky,\n    Ere we sailed away to New York, we at anchor here did lie.\n    O'er the meadows fair of Kingsbridge, there the mist was lying grey;\n    We were bound against the rebels, in the North America.\n\n    \"O so mournful was the parting of the soldiers and their wives,\n    For that none could say for certain, they'd return home with\n          their lives.\n    Then the women they were weeping, and they curs'd the cruel day\n    That we sailed against the rebels in the North America.\n\n    \"O the little babes were stretching out their arms with saddest cries,\n    And the bitter tears were falling from their pretty, simple eyes,\n    That their scarlet-coated daddies must be hurrying away,\n    For to fight against the rebels in the North America.\n\n    \"Now God preserve our Monarch, I will finish up my strain;\n    Be his subjects ever loyal, and his honour all maintain.\n    May the Lord our voyage prosper, and our arms across the sea,\n    And put down the wicked rebels in the North America.\"\n\nThere are a good many objects of interest in the neighbourhood.\nCombe Royal is an old house much modernised, where lemons and\noranges are golden in the open air, and the blue hydrangeas lie in\nmasses under the trees.\n\nFallapit has been entirely rebuilt. It was the seat of the\nFortescues, and their monuments crowd the parish church of East\nAllington. During the civil wars, the castle at Salcombe was held\nfor the king by Sir Edmund Fortescue. After having sustained two\nsieges, probably of short duration, it was summoned by General\nFairfax on January 23rd, 1645, and after a long siege of nearly\nfour months, surrendered on honourable terms to Colonel Weldon, the\ngovernor of Plymouth. Sir Edmund was allowed to march out with the\ngarrison, bearing their arms, to Fallapit, and take with him the key\nof the castle he had so gallantly defended.\n\nWhen Fallapit was sold, among other things put up by the auctioneer\nwas this very key, and it was knocked down for half a crown.\n\nA charming excursion may be made to the cell of Lee Priory, an\nalmost perfect monastic building. The chapel has been destroyed, but\nthe gateway and refectory and the dormitories remain intact. It is\nsituated in a peaceful, umbrageous dell away from the world among\ngreen lawns and pleasant woods, an idyllic spot.\n\nAt South Milton in the church is an interesting rood-screen, with\npaintings of saints on the panels. Screens are, indeed, numerous in\nthis district, some very fine. Crass stupidity has occasioned the\ndestruction of those of Malborough and West Alvington. The clergy\nshould be the guardians, not the ravagers, of their churches, but\n_quis custodiet custodes_?\n\nA delightful row down the estuary will take to Salcombe, a modern\nplace. Opposite, up a tremendous scramble, is Portlemouth, a\nsettlement of S. Winwaloe, the great Brittany saint. He is locally\ncalled Onolaus or Onslow. Winwaloe was the son of Gwen of the Three\nBreasts, and her husband, Fragan or Brechan, cousin of Cado, Duke\nof Cornwall. Although Gwen is represented on monuments in Brittany\nas a woman with three breasts, yet in Celtic the epithet means no\nmore than that she was twice married, and had children by both\nhusbands. Winwaloe was educated by S. Budoc, and founded Landevenec\nin Finisterre. At one time, fired with enthusiasm at what he had\nheard of the achievements of S. Patrick in Ireland, he desired to go\nthere, but was advised to remain and devote himself to the education\nof his own people. He accordingly gave up his life to ministering\nto the spiritual necessities of the Britons who came to Armorica,\neither as a place for expansion, finding Britain too strait for\nthem, or driven there by dynastic revolutions.\n\nWhether Winwaloe ever came into Devon and Cornwall we are not told\nin his Life, but it is not improbable, as he was closely related to\nthe reigning princes.\n\nHis biographer gives us a somewhat minute account of his personal\nappearance and habits. He was of a moderate height, with a bright,\nsmiling countenance; he was very patient with the perverse, and\ngentle in his dealings with all men. He was usually clothed in a\ngoat's skin. He never seated himself in church, but always stood or\nknelt.\n\nHe died about 532. In Portlemouth Church, which has been barbarously\n\"restored,\" he is represented on the screen holding the church in\nhis hand. He is the third figure from the north. The first is partly\neffaced; the second is probably his sister, Creirwy; the sixth\nis Sir John Schorne, a Buckinghamshire rector, who died in 1308,\nand was supposed to have conjured the devil into a boot. He was\nvenerated greatly as a patron against ague and the gout. There is a\njingle relative to him:--\n\n    \"To Maister John Schorne, that blessed man born,\n      For the ague to him we apply,\n    Which judgeth with a bote; I beshrew his heart's rote\n      That will trust him, and it be I.\"\n\nHis shrine was at North Marston in Bucks, and was a great resort up\nto the time of the Reformation. At one time the monks of Windsor\ncontrived to get his body removed to their church, but though they\nadvertised him well he did not \"take on\" in that quarter, and they\nreturned the body to North Marston. There are representations of\nhim on the screens of Wolborough and Alphington, and one or two in\nNorfolk. The screen at Portlemouth is of a richer and better design\nthan is general in the county. In the \"restoration\" of the church\nthe level of the chancel has been raised to an excessive height,\nso as to give a ludicrous appearance to those occupying the stalls.\nBut altogether the restoration has been a piece of wanton barbarity.\nThe carving of the screen is of a high quality. At South Huish was\nanother beautiful little screen. This has been saved from the hand\nof desecration by being removed to the Chapel of Bowringslea, a\ngrand old Tudor mansion that has been carefully and conscientiously\nrestored by Mr. Ilbert, the proprietor.\n\nAt South Pool is a screen with arabesques on it, well restored; also\nan Easter sepulchre.\n\nStokenham Church stands up boldly above a spring that gushes forth\nand forms a pool below the churchyard wall. This, there can be\nlittle doubt, must have at one time been regarded as a holy well.\nThe church within is stately, and contains a good screen with\npaintings of saints on it, and a stone pulpit absurdly painted\nwith Freemason symbols. What stained glass there is, is mediocre.\nSherford, attached as a benefice to Stokenham, has another good\nscreen, with apostles painted on it. Slapton has a very fine screen,\nbut without paintings. The church was originally attached to a\ncollege founded in 1350 by Sir Guy de Brian, standard-bearer to\nEdward III.; the gate tower alone remains.\n\nSome fine rocky headlands and pleasant coves are to be visited,\nnotably Bolt Head and Bolt Tail, and Prawle Point, with the sweet\nnooks where the brooks descend to the sea, or the cliffs give\nway to form a sunny, sleepy lap, lined with sand. At Bolt Tail\nis a prehistoric cliff castle. At Portlemouth may be traced the\nentrenchments cast up by the Parliamentarians in the siege of\nSalcombe Castle.\n\nThe river Avon, that runs down from Dartmoor, is followed by the\nbranch line of the Great Western Railway to Kingsbridge. A station\nis at Gara Bridge (_Garw_, Celtic for rough). The river passes under\nLoddiswell (Lady's Well), and then, unable to reach the Kingsbridge\nestuary on account of an intervening hill 370 feet high, turns\nsulkily to the right and enters Bigbury Bay far away to the west.\nClearly Kingsbridge Harbour was made to receive it, but the river,\nlike the life of many a man, has taken a twist and gone astray. But\nwhere the river went not, there goes the train by a tunnel.\n\nThe Avon enters the sea under Thirlstone, a parish that takes its\nname from a rock that has been \"thirled\" or drilled by the waves, on\nthe beach. The church contains a few fragments of the screen worked\nup to form an altar.\n\nAn interesting expedition may be made from Kingsbridge to the\nmouth of the Erme. Above where the river debouches into the sea is\nOldaport, the remains, supposed to be Roman, of a harbour commanded\nby two towers. One of the latter has of late years been destroyed.\n\nThe ancient port occupying two creeks remains silted up. There is\nabsolutely no record of its having been used in medi\u00e6val times, and\nthis leads to the supposition that it is considerably earlier. It is\na very interesting relic; but the two towers have been destroyed,\nand all that remains is a wall that cut off the spit of land, and a\ndeep moat.\n\nModbury, a little market town, was a great seat of the Champernowne\nfamily. It has always been a musical centre. In the reign of Henry\nVIII. Sir Philip Champernowne, of Modbury, went up to Windsor,\ntaking with him his company of musicians on rote and tabor and\npsaltery and dulcimer, and all kinds of music, and they performed\nbefore King Henry, to that huge monarch's huge content. So pleased\nwas he with their \"consort of fine musicke,\" that he bade Sir Philip\nremain with his company at Windsor, to play to him whenever the evil\nspirit was on him; but forgot to say that this was to be at royal\ncharges. The entertaining of his band of musicians at court by Sir\nPhilip during many months proved so great an expense that when he\nreturned to Modbury he was a wiser and a much poorer man, and had to\nsell a manor or two to meet his liabilities.\n\nIn 1558 good Queen Bess mounted her father's throne; and one day\nbethought her of the Modbury orchestra. So with her royal hand she\nwrote down to Henry Champernowne, grandson of Sir Philip, to bid\nhim bring up to court his \"consort of fine musicke,\" for that she\ndesired greatly to hear it.\n\nHenry was tactless, and he replied that the visit to Windsor\npreviously had cost his grandfather two of his best manors, and that\nhe really could not afford it. Queen Bess was highly incensed, and\nfound occasion against Henry Champernowne to mulct him of four or\nfive fine manors, as a lesson to him not to return such an answer\nto a royal mistress again. This marked the beginning of the decline\nof the Champernowne family at Modbury. The manor passed from them\nin 1700. But although the Champernownes are gone, the band is still\nthere. It has never ceased to renew itself, and Modbury prides\nitself as of old on its \"consort of fine musicke.\"\n\nBigbury takes its name from some great camp or bury that has\ndisappeared under the plough. In the church is a very fine carved\noak pulpit, like that of Holne, given by Bishop Oldham to Ashburton\nChurch in or about 1510. At the same time he presented an owl as\nlectern to Ashburton Church, the owl being his badge. In 1777 the\nwiseacres of Ashburton sold pulpit and owl to Bigbury for eleven\nguineas. When the Bigbury folk saw that they had got an owl instead\nof an eagle, they were disgusted, sawed off the head and sent it to\nPlymouth, with an order for an eagle's head of the same dimensions.\nAccordingly, now the lessons are read in the church from a lectern\nthat has an owl's body with an eagle's head. But really--as in the\npuzzle pictures--one is disposed to ask, \"Where is the owl?\" and\nto look for it first among the Ashburton folk who sold their bird,\nand secondly among the Bigbury folk who objected because he was an\nowl. There are some brasses in the church to the Burton family, into\nwhich married the De Bigburys.\n\nAt S. Anne's there are an old chapel and a holy well. S. Anne did\nnot come into fashion as a saint till the fifteenth century, and\nthere are no early representations of her, or dedications to her.\nBut Anne was the mother of the gods among the Celts, and the name\nwas given to several notable women, as the mother of S. Samson, and\nthe daughter of Vortimer, king of the Britons, mother of S. Wenn,\nwho married Solomon, king of the Dumnonii; and a suppressed cult of\nthe old goddess went on under the plea of being directed to these\nhistoric women, till the great explosion of devotion to Anne, mother\nof the Blessed Virgin--known to us only through the apocryphal\ngospels.\n\nAne or Anne was the mythical mother of the Tuatha de Danan, the race\nfound in our peninsula, in Scotland from the Clyde to the Firth\nof Forth, and throughout Ireland, called by the classic writers\nDumnonii. They were subdued in Ireland by the Gaels or Scots.\nUndoubtedly throughout Devon and Cornwall there must have been a\ncult of the great ancestress. She has given her name to the Paps\nof Ane in Kerry and to S. Anne's (Agnes') Head in Cornwall, and\nas surely the holy wells now attributed to S. Anne were formerly\nregarded as sacred fountains of the great mother of the race, whose\nfirst fathers were gods.\n\nThere is a rock at sea, reached at low tide, called Borough Island,\non which is a little inn. It was formerly, judging by the name, a\ncliff fortress.\n\nRingmore, the adjoining parish to Bigbury, has a church and village\nnestling into a pleasant, wooded combe. The church has a small\nspire, and the basement serves as a porch. Anent this tower is a\ntale.\n\nDuring the civil wars, a Mr. Lane was rector, as also incumbent of\nthe adjoining parish of Aveton Gifford. He mustered the able-bodied\nmen of his parish, drilled them, obtained some cannon, and formed\na battery manned by his fellows, to command the bridge below\nLoddiswell, by which Parliamentary troops were marching to the siege\nof Salcombe Castle, and caused them such annoyance that during the\nsiege of Plymouth by the Parliamentary forces, several boats full\nof armed men were despatched from Plymouth to capture and shoot the\nsturdy rector. Forewarned, Mr. Lane took refuge in a small chamber,\nprovided with a fireplace, in the tower of the church, and there\nhe remained in concealment for three months, secretly nourished by\nhis parishioners. His most painful experience at the time was on\nthe Sundays, when the minister intruded by the Parliament harangued\nfrom the pulpit in terms audible in his secret chamber. Then Mr.\nLane could hardly contain himself from bursting forth to refute his\nheresies and denounce his disloyalty.\n\nThe soldiers are said to have landed at Ayrmer Cove and proceeded\nto the rectory, which they thoroughly ransacked, but although they\nsearched the neighbourhood, they were unable to find the man they\nwere sent to capture.\n\nThe old historic parsonage has been demolished, and its site is\nmarked by a walled garden, but the secret chamber in the tower\nremains.\n\nAt Aveton Gifford is a fine screen, carefully restored. Walter de\nStapledon was rector of this parish, and was raised thence to be\nBishop of Exeter in 1307, and in 1314 he was the founder of Exeter\nCollege, Oxford. He was for several years High Treasurer to Edward\nII. His story is really worth giving in short. On the vacancy of the\nsee, the king sent down _cong\u00e9 d'\u00e9lire_ on October 6th, 1307. The\nchapter sat. Of twenty-three canons fifteen chose Stapledon, three\nselected the Dean, three the Archdeacon of Totnes, and two voted for\nthe Dean of Wells. When the result of the counting was announced,\nthen another voting was proceeded with, and Stapledon was elected\nunanimously.\n\nThe result was announced to the king and he gave his assent on\nDecember 6th. But meanwhile a troublesome fellow, Richard Plymstoke,\nRector of Exminster, had sent an appeal to the Pope against nine of\nthe canons, whom he pronounced to be disqualified for election, and\none of these was Stapledon. Here was an unpleasant intervention,\nonly too sure to be eagerly seized on by the Roman _curia_ for\nthe sake of extorting money. To make matters worse, the Pope had\nsuspended the Archbishop of Canterbury, and he had gone to France,\nto Poitiers, to meet the Pope and solicit, and buy, his relief. On\nJanuary 18th the Archbishop, who had been restored and empowered to\ninvestigate the complaint of Plymstoke, issued his commission; and\non March 10th poor Stapledon wrote a bitter letter to the Cardinal,\nThomas Joce, to complain of the condition of poverty into which he\nhad been reduced. \"It is hard on me; at the present moment I am\ndestitute even to nakedness.\"\n\nTo make matters worse, the queen, Isabella, wrote to him requiring\nhim to find a prebendal stall and a revenue for her chaplain--a\nforeigner with an outlandish name--Jargono. He replied that he\ncould not give a canonry to this stranger, and as to finding him an\nincome, he said that he was overwhelmed with debt, on account of the\nintolerable burden of costs incurred by the appeal to Rome, and in\npreparing for his consecration.\n\nAnd it was not till October 13th, 1308, nearly a year after his\nelection, that he was consecrated. His registers, carefully\npreserved at Exeter, prove him to have been a hard-working,\nhigh-principled, and altogether estimable prelate. He it was who\nerected that masterpiece of woodwork, the bishop's throne, in Exeter\nCathedral.\n\nStapledon was one of the foremost statesmen of his day, and he was\nthe trusted friend and adviser of King Edward II. Hence his frequent\nand prolonged sojourns in the Metropolis, and his occasional\nabsences from England on missions of importance.\n\nIn 1323 the troubles with the Despensers, the king's favourites,\nbegan.\n\nCharles IV., king of France, seized the Agenois and threatened\nGuienne. Edward sent his queen, Isabella, to Paris to negotiate\nwith her brother. The treaty which she made was so humiliating for\nEngland that the king's council refused to discuss it. Another\nsuggestion was then made from the French court, that if Edward would\nbestow Guienne on his eldest son, the king himself would not be\nrequired to do homage to the Crown of France. The Despensers urged\nEdward to accept this. The queen now refused to return to England;\nshe had made a favourite and paramour of Lord Mortimer, and, out of\nspite against the king, favoured the Lancastrian party. Charles IV.\nwas at last obliged to send her out of his dominions. She retired to\nthe court of Hainault, where, under the direction of Mortimer, she\nprepared for the invasion of England. At the close of 1326 Isabella\nlanded at Orwell in Suffolk, with a small but well-appointed army\nof Hainaulters and exiles. The Lancastrians immediately hastened to\nher standard. It was generally supposed that her object was simply\nthe removal of the Despensers. After a vain attempt to rouse the\nLondoners in his cause, Edward fled with the two Despensers to the\nWelsh marches.\n\nThe king's flight and the successful advance of the queen's forces\ntowards London encouraged the citizens to break out into open\nrebellion against the Government. Before leaving, Edward had made\nStapledon guardian of the city. Walsingham, in his _History_, says:--\n\n     \"Continuing their rage, the citizens made a rush for the house\n     of the Bishop of Exeter, and, setting fire to the gates, quickly\n     forced an entrance. Not finding the bishop they carried off his\n     jewels, plate, and furniture. It happened, however, that in an\n     evil hour the bishop returned from the country, who, although he\n     had been forewarned, felt no manner of dread of the citizens. So\n     he rode on with all boldness, till he reached the north door of\n     St. Paul's, where he was forthwith seized by the raging people,\n     who struck at and wounded him, and finally, having dragged him\n     from his horse, hurried him away to the place of execution.\n     Now the bishop wore a kind of armour, which we commonly calle\n     _aketone_; and having stripped him of that, and of all his\n     other garments, they cut off his head. Two others, members of\n     his household, suffered the same fate. Having perpetrated this\n     sacrilegious deed, they fixed the bishop's head on a stake.\n     As to the corpse, they flung it into a small pit in a disused\n     cemetery.\"\n\nAnother chronicler says:--\n\n     \"The naked body, with only a rag given by charity of a woman,\n     was laid on a spot called _le lawles chirche_, and, without any\n     grave, lay there, with those of his two esquires.\"\n\n     \"Those,\" says Dr. Oliver, \"who attend to the springs and\n     principles of actions must award the tribute of praise and\n     admiration to this high-minded bishop and minister; they will\n     appreciate his zeal and energy to sustain the declining fortunes\n     of his royal master, and venerate him for his disregard of\n     self, and for his incorruptible honour and loyalty under every\n     discouragement.\"\n\nHis body was finally brought to Exeter, where it lies in the\nCathedral under a beautiful canopied tomb in the north-east bay of\nthe choir, close to the high altar.\n\nAnd now, one word to the angler.\n\nWhat streams these are that flow through the South Hams! What pools\nunder deep banks, in which the trout lurk! To him who can obtain\npermission to fish the Erme, the Avon, can be assured days to be\nnever forgotten, of excellent sport in lovely scenery.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\nPLYMOUTH\n\n     Plymouth Sound--The river Plym--Its real\n     name--Sutton--Plympton--A cradle of naval adventure--The Hawkins\n     family--Sir John Hawkins--Sir Francis Drake--\"Singeing the\n     King of Spain's beard\"--The invincible Armada--Song of--Statue\n     of Drake--The Eddystone--Its lighthouses--The neighbourhood\n     of Plymouth--Hamoaze--The Lynher--S. Germans--Cawsand\n     Bay--Smuggling--Lady's Rock--Millbrook--Landrake--S.\n     Indract--Sir Joshua Reynolds--Dewerstone--Peacock Bridge--Childe\n     the Hunter.\n\n\nWhen a sailor heard the song sung, to which this is the refrain:--\n\n    \"O dear Plymouth town! and O blue Plymouth Sound,\n    O where is your equal on earth to be found?\"\n\nhe said, \"Them's my opinions, to the turn of a hair.\"\n\nAbout Plymouth town I am not so confident, but as to the Sound it\nis not easily surpassed. The Bay of Naples has Vesuvius, and above\nan Italian sky, but lacks the wealth of verdure of Mount Edgcumbe,\nand has none of those wondrous inlets that make of Plymouth Sound a\nfigure of a watery hand displayed, and of the Three Towns a problem\nin topography which it requires long experience to solve.\n\nThe name of the place is a misnomer.\n\nPlym is not the name of the river which has its mouth where the\ntown squats. Plym is the contraction for Pen-lynn, the head of the\nlake, and was given originally to Plympton, where are the remains\nof a castle, and where are still to be seen the iron rings to\nwhich vessels were moored. But just as the Taw-ford (_ridd_) has\ncontributed a name to the river Torridge, above the ford, so has\nPen-lynn sent its name down the stream and given it to Plymouth.\nPelynt in Cornwall is likewise a Pen-lynn.\n\nWhat the original name of the river was is doubtful. Higher up,\nwhere it comes rioting down from the moor, above the Dewerstone is\nCadover Bridge, not the bridge _over_ the Cad, but Cadworthy Bridge.\nPerhaps the river was the Cad, so called from _caed_, contracted,\nshut within banks, very suitable to a river emerging from a ravine.\nA witty friend referring to \"the brawling Cad,\" the epithet applied\nto it by the poet Carrington, said that it was not till the\ninstitution of chars-a-bancs and early-closing days in Plymouth that\n_he_ ever saw \"the brawling cad\" upon Dartmoor; since then he has\nseen a great deal too much of the article.\n\nPlymouth as a town is comparatively modern. When Domesday was\ncompiled nothing was known of it, but there was a Sutton--South\nTown--near the pool, which eventually became the port of old\nPlymouth.\n\nIt first acquired some consequence when the Valletorts had a house\nnear where is now the church of S. Andrew.\n\nThere was, however, a _lis_ or enclosed residence of a chief, if we\nmay accept the Domesday manor of Lisistone[39] as thence derived.\nAnd there have been early relics turned up occasionally. But no real\nconsequence accrued to the place till the Valletorts set up house\nthere in the reign of Henry I.\n\n  [39] Now Lipson.\n\nThe old couplet, applied with variations to so many places in the\nkingdom, and locally running:\n\n    \"Plympton was a borough town\n    When Plymouth was a vuzzy down,\"\n\nwas true enough. Plympton at the time of the Conquest was head of\nthe district, and there were then canons there in the monastery,\nwhich dates back at least to the reign of Edgar, probably to a\nmuch earlier period. The priors of Plympton got a grant of land in\nSutton, which they held as lords of the manor till 1439. It was not\ntill the end of the thirteenth century that the name of Plymouth\ncame to knowledge and the place began to acquire consequence. But it\nwas not till the days of good Queen Bess that the place became one\nof prime importance.\n\n     \"In the latter half of the sixteenth century,\" says Mr. Worth,\n     \"Devonshire was the foremost county in England, and Plymouth its\n     foremost town. Elizabeth called the men of Devonshire her right\n     hand, and so far carried her liking for matters Devonian, that\n     one of the earliest passports of Raleigh to her favour was the\n     fact that he talked the broadest dialect of the shire, and never\n     abandoned it for the affected speech current at court.\"[40]\n\n  [40] WORTH (R. N.), _History of Plymouth_, 1890, p. 39. I shall\n  quote much from this admirable work, not only full of information,\n  but written in a charming style.\n\n[Illustration: GRAMMAR SCHOOL]\n\n[Illustration: IN PLYMPTON]\n\nThe importance of Plymouth as a starting-point for discovery, and as\nthe cradle of our maritime power, must never be forgotten.\n\nOld Carew says:--\n\n     \"Here have the troops of adventurers made their _rendezvous_ for\n     attempting new discoveries or inhabitances, as Thomas Stukeleigh\n     for Florida, Sir Humfrey Gilbert for Newfoundland, Sir Richard\n     Grenville for Virginia, Sir Martin Frobisher and Master Davies\n     for the North-West Passage, Sir Walter Raleigh for Guiana.\"\n\nIt is indeed no exaggeration to say that in the reign of Elizabeth\nPlymouth had become the foremost port in England.\n\n     \"If any person desired to see her English worthies, Plymouth\n     was the likeliest place to seek them. All were in some fashion\n     associated with the old town. These were days when men were\n     indifferent whether they fought upon land or water, when the\n     fact that a man was a good general was considered the best of\n     all reasons why he should be a good admiral likewise. '_Per mare\n     per terram_' was the motto of Elizabeth's true-born Englishmen,\n     and familiar and dear to them was Plymouth, with its narrow\n     streets, its dwarfish quays, its broad waters, and its glorious\n     Hoe.\"\n\nThe roll of Plymouth's naval heroes begins with the Hawkins family,\nand one looks in vain in modern Plymouth for some statue to\ncommemorate the most illustrious of her sons.\n\nThese Hawkinses were a remarkable race. \"Gentlemen,\" as Prince says,\n\"of worshipful extraction for several descents,\" they were made more\nworshipful by their deeds.\n\n     \"For three generations in succession they were the\n     master-spirits of Plymouth in its most illustrious days; its\n     leading merchants, its bravest sailors, serving oft and well\n     in the civic chair and the Commons House of Parliament. For\n     three generations they were in the van of English seamanship,\n     founders of England's commerce in South, West, and East, stout\n     in fight, of quenchless spirit in adventure--a family of\n     merchant statesmen and heroes to whom our country affords no\n     parallel.\"[41]\n\n  [41] WORTH.\n\nThe early voyages of Sir John Hawkins were to the Canary Isles. In\n1562 he made his first expedition in search of negroes to sell in\nHispaniola, so that he was not squeamish in the matter of the trade\nin human flesh. But in 1567 he made an expedition ever memorable,\nfor his were the first English keels to furrow that hitherto unknown\nsea, the Bay of Mexico. He had with him a fleet of six ships, two\nof which were royal vessels, the rest were his own, and one of\nthese, the _Judith_, was commanded by his kinsman, Francis Drake.\nWhilst in the port of S. Juan de Ulloa Hawkins was treacherously\nassailed, and lost all the vessels, with the exception of two, of\nwhich one was the _Judith_. When his brother William heard of the\ndisaster he begged Elizabeth to allow him to make reprisals on his\nown account; and on the return of John \"it may fairly be said that\nPlymouth declared war against Spain. Hawkins and Drake thereafter\nnever missed a chance of making good their losses. The treachery of\nSan Juan de Ulloa was the moving cause of the series of harassments\nwhich culminated in the destruction of the Armada. For every English\nlife then lost, for every pound of English treasure then taken,\nSpain paid a hundred and a thousand fold.\"\n\nIn the following year, at Rio de la Flacho, whilst getting in\nsupplies, he was attacked by Michael de Castiliano with a thousand\nmen. Hawkins had but two hundred under his command; however, he\ndrove the Spaniards back, entered the town, and carried off the\nensign, for which, on his return, he was granted an addition to his\narms--on a canton, gold, an escalop between two palmers' staves,\nsable.\n\nIn 1573 Hawkins was chosen by the queen \"as the fittest person in\nher dominions to manage her naval affairs,\" and for twenty-one years\nserved as Controller of the Navy. It was through his wise provision,\nby his resolution, in spite of the niggardliness wherewith Elizabeth\ndoled out money, that \"when the moment of trial came,\" says Froude,\n\"he sent her ships to sea in such condition--hull, rigging, spars,\nand running rope--that they had no match in the world.\"\n\nAbout the Armada presently.\n\nIn 1595 Hawkins and Drake were together sent to the West Indies in\ncommand of an expedition. But they could not agree. Hawkins wanted\nat once to sail for America, Drake to hover about the Canaries to\nintercept Spanish galleons. The disagreement greatly irritated old\nSir John, unaccustomed to have his will opposed. Then he learned\nthat one of his vessels, named the _Francis_, had been taken by\nthe Spaniards. Grief at this, and annoyance caused by the double\ncommand, brought on a fever, and he died at sea, November 15th, 1595.\n\nOld Prince says, in drawing a parallel between him and Drake, \"In\ntheir deaths they were not divided, either in respect of the cause\nthereof, for they died both heart-broken; the one, for that being\nin joint commission with the other, his advice and counsel was\nneglected; the other, for the ill success with which his last voyage\nwas attended. Alike they were also in their deaths; as to the place,\nfor they both died on the sea; as to the time, they both expired\nin the same voyage, the one a little before the other, about the\ninterspace of a few months; and lastly, as to their funerals, for\nthey were both buried in the ocean, over which they had both so\noften rid in triumph.\"\n\nThe elder brother of Sir John, William, the patriarch of the port,\nwas Mayor of Plymouth in the Armada year. William's son, Sir Richard\nHawkins, sailed in 1593 from Plymouth with five vessels to the\nSouth Seas, and was taken by the Spaniards. From various causes\nthe fleet was reduced to the single vessel the _Dainty_, which he\nhimself commanded. Manned by seventy-five men only, she was assailed\nby eight Spanish vessels with crews of 1300. Nevertheless, like\nSir Richard Grenville, of the _Revenge_, he showed lusty fight,\nwhich was kept up for three days, and he did not surrender till\nhe had himself been wounded six times, and then only when he had\nsecured honourable terms, which the false scoundrels broke, by\nsending their prisoners to Spain, instead of allowing them, as\nwas undertaken, to return to England.\n\n[Illustration: SUTTON POOL]\n\nHe is one of those to whom the ballad is supposed to relate:--\n\n    \"Would you hear of a Spanish lady,\n      How she wooed an English man?\"\n\nBut it is also told of a member of the Popham family, by whom the\nlady's picture, and her chain and bracelets, mentioned in the\nballad, were preserved.\n\nNext to the Hawkins heroes we have Drake, a Plymothian by adoption,\nthe son of a yeoman near Tavistock. Camden calls him, \"without\ndispute the greatest captain of the age.\"\n\nMany strange stories are told of him, as that he brought water to\nPlymouth by pronouncing an incantation over a spring on Dartmoor,\nand then riding direct to the seaport, whereupon the water followed\nhim, docile as a dog. When he was building Buckland Abbey, every\nnight the devils carried away the stones. Drake got up into a tree\nand watched. When he saw the devils at work he crowed like a cock.\n\"Dawn coming?\" exclaimed a devil. \"And there comes the sun!\" cried\nout another, for Drake had lit his pipe; and away they scampered.\n\nAnother story is, that he left his wife at Lynton, and was away for\nso long that she believed him dead, and was about to be married\nagain, when Sir Francis, who was in the Bristol Channel, fired a\ncannon-ball, that flew in at the church window and fell between\nher and her intended \"second.\" \"None could have done that but\nSir Francis,\" said the lady with a sigh, and so the ceremony was\nabruptly broken off.\n\nDrake was brought up at sea under Hawkins, and accompanied him\non the voyage of 1567, which ended so disastrously. His first\nindependent expedition was in 1572, when he made his memorable\nexpedition to Nombre de Dios.\n\nFour years later Drake started on his voyage of circumnavigation,\nwith five vessels. Disaster and disaffection broke up the little\nfleet, but he persevered, and on September 26th, 1580, brought the\n_Pelican_ safely back to Plymouth again; the first English captain\nwho had sailed round the world. Plymouth turned out to welcome him,\nheaded by the Mayor, and S. Andrew's bells rang a merry peal.\n\nThe _Pelican_ was crammed with treasure. Drake went to the Thames\nin her, and was received graciously by the queen. \"His ship,\" says\nCamden, \"she caused to be drawn up in a little creek near Deptford,\nas a monument of his so lucky sailing round the world. And having,\nas it were, consecrated it as a memorial with great ceremony,\nshe was banqueted in it, and conferred on Drake the honour of\nknighthood.\"\n\nSingularly enough the Spanish Ambassador complained, on the part\nof his Government, of Drake having ventured into the Pacific; but\nthe queen spiritedly replied that she did not acknowledge grants\nof strange lands, much less of foreign seas made by the Pope, and\nthat, sail where they might, her good mariners should enjoy her\ncountenance.\n\nIn 1585 Drake, with a fleet of twenty-five sail, made another\nexpedition to the West Indies; and his next exploit, performed in\n1587, was what he called \"singeing the King of Spain's beard.\" With\nhis fleet he ravaged the coast of Spain, and delayed the sailing\nof the Armada for a year. The Invincible Armada, as the Spaniards\ndesignated it in their pride, set sail from the Tagus on May 29th.\nIt consisted of 130 vessels of all sizes, mounting 2431 guns, and\ncarrying, in addition to the mariners, nearly 20,000 land troops,\namong whom were 2000 volunteers of the noblest families in Spain.\nBut the fleet was overtaken by a storm off Coru\u00f1a, and four large\nships foundered at sea; on hearing which, that stingy old cat,\nElizabeth, at once ordered the admiral, Lord Howard of Effingham,\nto lay up four of his largest vessels, and discharge their crews.\nThe admiral had the spirit to disobey, saying that rather than do\nthat he would maintain the crews at his own cost. On July 19th, one\nnamed Fleming, a Scottish privateer, sailed into Plymouth, with\nintelligence that he had seen the Spanish fleet off the Lizard. At\nthe moment most of the captains and officers were on shore playing\nbowls on the Hoe. There was instant bustle, and a call to man the\nboats. \"There is time enough,\" said Drake, \"to play the game out\nfirst, and thrash the Spaniards afterwards.\"\n\nUnfortunately the wind was from the south, but the captains\ncontrived to warp out their ships. On the following day, being\nSaturday, the 20th of July, they got a full sight of the Armada\nstanding majestically on, the vessels drawn up in the form of a\ncrescent, which, from horn to horn, measured some seven miles.\n\nTheir great height and bulk, though imposing to the unskilled, gave\nconfidence to the English seamen, who reckoned at once upon having\nthe advantage in tacking and man\u0153uvring their lighter craft. The\nmiserable parsimony of Elizabeth, who did not allow a sufficiency\nof ammunition to the fleet, interfered sadly with the proceedings\nof the defenders of the English shores. But the story of the Armada\nbelongs to general English history, and need not be detailed here.\nIt is a story, read it often as we may, that makes the blood dance\nin one's veins.\n\nIt has served as the topic of many lines. I will give some not\nusually quoted, by John O'Keefe, which were set to music by Dr.\nArnold:--\n\n    \"In May fifteen hundred and eighty-eight,\n      Cries Philip, 'The English I'll humble;\n    I've taken it into my Majesty's pate,\n      And the lion, Oh! down he shall tumble.\n    The lords of the sea!' Then his sceptre he shook;\n      'I'll prove it all arrant bravado,\n    By Neptune! I'll sweep 'em all into a nook,\n      With th' Invincible Spanish Armado.'\n\n    \"This fleet started out, and the winds they did blow;\n      Their guns made a terrible clatter.\n    Our noble Queen Bess, 'cos her wanted to know,\n      Quill'd her ruff, and cried, 'Pray what's the matter?'\n    'They say, my good Queen,' replies Howard so stout,\n      'The Spaniard has drawn his toledo.\n    Odds bobbins! he'll thump us, and kick us about,\n      With th' Invincible Spanish Armado.'\n\n    \"The Lord Mayor of London, a very wise man,\n      What to do in the case vastly wondered.\n    Says the Queen, 'Send in fifty good ships, if you can,'\n      Says the Lord Mayor, 'I'll send you a hundred!'\n    Our fire ships soon struck every cannon all dumb,\n      For the Dons ran to _Ave_ and _Credo_;\n    Don Medina roars out, 'Sure the foul fiend is come,\n      For th' Invincible Spanish Armado.'\n\n    \"On Effingham's squadron, tho' all in abreast,\n      Like open-mouth'd curs they came bowling;\n    His sugar-plums finding they could not digest,\n      Away they ran yelping and howling.\n    When Britain's foe shall, all with envy agog,\n      In our Channel make such a tornado,\n    Huzza! my brave boys! we're still lusty to flog\n      An Invincible ... Armado.\"\n\nAnd here the dotted line will allow of Gallic, Russian, or German to\nbe inserted. Of Spanish there need be no fear. Spain is played out.\n\nA fine bronze statue of Sir Francis by Boehm is on the Hoe, the\ntraditional site of the bowling match, but it is only a _replica_\nof that at Tavistock, and lacks the fine bas-reliefs representing\nincidents in the life of Drake; among others, the game of bowls,\nand his burial at sea. On the Hoe is also a ridiculous tercentenary\nmonument commemorative of the Armada, and the upper portion of\nSmeaton's Eddystone lighthouse.\n\nThis dangerous reef had occasioned so many wrecks and such loss of\nlife, that Mr. Henry Winstanley, a gentleman of property in Essex,\na self-taught mechanician, resolved to devote his attention and\nhis money to the erection of a lighthouse upon the reef, called\nEddystone probably because of the swirl of water about it. He\ncommenced the erection in 1696, and completed it in four years. The\nstructure was eminently picturesque, so much so that a local artist\nat Launceston thought he could not do better than make a painting of\nit to decorate a house there then in construction (Dockacre), and\nset it up as a portion of the chimney-piece. The edifice certainly\nwas not calculated to withstand such seas as roll in the Channel,\nbut Winstanley knew only that second-hand wash which flows over\nmiles of mud on the Essex coast, which it submerges, but above which\nit cannot heap itself into billows.\n\nWinstanley had implicit confidence in his work, and frequently\nexpressed the wish that he might be in his lighthouse when tested\nby a severe storm from the west. He had his desire. One morning in\nNovember, 1703, he left the Barbican to superintend repairs. An\nold seaman standing there warned him that dirty weather was coming\non. Nevertheless, strong in his confidence, he went. That night,\nwhilst he remained at the lighthouse, a hurricane sprang up, and\nwhen morning broke no lighthouse was visible; the erection and its\noccupants had been swept away. Three years elapsed before another\nattempt was made to rear a beacon. At length a silk mercer of\nLondon, named Rudyard, undertook the work. He determined to imitate\nas closely as might be the trunk of a Scotch pine, and to give\nto wind and wave as little surface as possible on which to take\neffect. Winstanley's edifice had been polygonal; Rudyard's was to\nbe circular. Commenced in 1706 and completed in 1709, entirely of\ntimber, the shaft weathered the storms of nearly fifty years in\nsafety, and might have defied them longer but that it was built of\ncombustible materials. It caught fire on the 2nd December, 1755. The\nthree keepers in it did their utmost to extinguish the flames, but\ntheir efforts were ineffectual. The lead wherewith it was roofed\nran off in molten streams, and the men had to take refuge in a hole\nof the rock. When they were rescued one of the men went raving mad,\nbroke away, and was never seen again. Another solemnly averred that\nsome of the molten lead, as he stood looking up agape at the fire,\nhad run down his throat as it spouted from the roof. He died within\ntwelve days, and actually lodged within his stomach was found a mass\nof lead weighing nearly eight ounces. How he had lived so long was a\nmarvel.\n\nTwelve months were not suffered to pass before a third lighthouse\nwas commenced--that of Smeaton. This was of stone, dovetailed\ntogether. It was commenced in June, 1757, and completed by October,\n1759. This lighthouse might have lasted to the present, had it not\nbeen that the rocky foundation began to yield under the incessant\nbeat of the waves.\n\nThis necessitated a fourth, from the designs of Mr. (now Sir J.)\nDouglass, which was begun in 1879 and completed in 1882. The total\nheight is 148 feet.\n\nThe Breakwater was begun in 1812, but was not completed till 1841.\n\nThe neighbourhood of Plymouth abounds in objects of interest and\nscenes of great beauty. The Hamoaze, the estuary of the Tamar and\nTavy combined, is a noble sheet of water. The name (_am-uisge_),\nRound about the water, describes it as an almost landlocked tract of\nglittering tide and effluent rivers, with woods and hills sloping\ndown to the surface. Mount Edgcumbe, with its sub-tropical shrubs\nand trees, shows how warm the air is even in winter, in spots where\nnot exposed to the sea breeze.\n\nUp the creek of the Lynher (_Lyn-hir_, the long creek) boats\npass to S. Germans, where is a noble church, on the site of a\npre-Saxon monastery founded by S. Germanus of Auxerre. The little\ndisfranchised borough contains many objects to engage the artist's\npencil, notably the eminently picturesque alms-houses.\n\nThe noble church has been very badly \"restored.\" The Norman work is\nfine.\n\nCawsand, with its bay, makes a pleasant excursion. This was at one\ntime a great nest for smugglers. An old woman named Borlase had a\ncottage with a window looking towards Plymouth, and she kept her eye\non the water. When a preventive boat was visible she went down the\nstreet giving information. There was another old woman, only lately\ndeceased, who went by the name of Granny Grylls. When a young woman\nshe was wont to walk to the beach and back carrying a baby that was\nnever heard to wail.\n\nOne day a customs officer said to her, \"Well, Mrs. Grylls, that baby\nof yours is very quiet.\"\n\n\"Quiet her may be,\" answered she, \"but I reckon her's got a deal o'\nsperit in her.\"\n\n[Illustration: ALMS HOUSES, S. GERMANS]\n\nAnd so she had, for the baby was no other than a jar of brandy.\nShe was wont by this means to remove \"run\" liquor from its _cache_\nin the sand. A man named Trist had been a notorious smuggler. At\nlast he was caught and given over to the press-gang to be sent on\nboard a man-of-war. Trist bore his capture quietly enough, but as\nthe vessel lay off Cawsand he suddenly slipped overboard and made\nfor a boat that was at anchor, shipped that, and hoisted sail. His\nMajesty's vessel at once lowered a boat and made in pursuit. After a\nhard row the sailing smack was come up with and found to be empty.\nTrist had gone overboard again and swum to a Cawsand fishing-smack,\nwhere he lay hid for some days. As there was quite a fleet of these\nboats on the water, the men in His Majesty's service did not know\nwhich to search. So Trist got off and was never secured again.\n\nNear Cawsand is a rock with a white sparry formation on it, like the\nfigure of a woman. This is called Lady's Rock, and the fishermen on\nreturning always cast an offering of a few mackerels or herrings to\nthe ledge before the figure.\n\nA curious custom on May Day exists at Millbrook, once a rotten\nborough, of the boatmen carrying a dressed ship about the streets\nwith music.\n\nAn excursion up the Tamar may be made by steamer to the Weir Head.\nThe river scenery is very fine, especially at the Morwell Rocks. On\nthe way Cothele is passed, the ancient and unaltered mansion of the\nEdgcumbes, rich in carved wood, tapestry, and ancient furniture. It\nis the most perfect and characteristic mansion of the fifteenth\ncentury in Cornwall. Lower down the river is S. Dominic.\n\nEarly in the eighth century Indract, with his sister Dominica, Irish\npilgrims, and attendants arrived there, and settled on the Tamar.\nA little headland, Halton, marks a spot where Indract had a chapel\nand a holy well. The latter is in good condition; the former is\nrepresented by an ivy-covered wall. However, the church of Landrake\n(Llan-Indract) was his main settlement, and his sister Dominica\nfounded that now bearing her name. In the river Indract made a\nsalmon weir and trapped fish for his party. But one of these was\na thief and greedy, and carried off fish for his own consumption,\nregardless of his comrades. There were \"ructions,\" and Indract\npacked his portmanteau and started for Rome. Whether Dominica\naccompanied him is not stated, but it is probable that she would not\ncare to be left alone in a strange land, though I am certain she\nwould have met with nothing but kindly courtesy from Cornishmen. The\nparty--all but the thief and those who were in the intrigue with\nhim--reached Rome, and returning through Britain came as far as\nSkapwith, near Glastonbury, where a Saxon hanger-on upon King Ina's\ncourt, hearing that a party of travellers was at hand, basely went\nto their lodgings and murdered them at night in the hopes of getting\nloot. Ina, his master, who was then at Glastonbury, came to hear\nof what had been done, and he had the bodies moved to the abbey.\nWhether he scolded the man who murdered them, or even proceeded to\npunish him, we are not told.\n\nBere Ferrers has a fine church, with some old glass in it and a\nvery singular font, that looks almost as if it had been constructed\nout of a still earlier capital. Bere Alston was once a borough,\nreturning two members.\n\nOn the east side of Plymouth is the interesting Plympton S. Mary,\nwith a noble church; Plympton S. Maurice, with a fine modern screen,\nand the remains of a castle. Here is the old grammar school where\nSir Joshua Reynolds received his instruction, and here also is the\nhouse in which he was born. He gave his own portrait to the town\nhall of the little place--for it also was a borough, and, to the\nlasting disgrace of Plympton be it recorded, the municipality sold\nit. The old house of Boringdon has a fine hall. The house has twice\nbeen altered, and the last alterations are incongruous. One half of\nthe house has been pulled down. Above it is a well-preserved camp.\nErmington Church deserves a visit; it has been well restored. It\nhas a bold post-Reformation screen. Holbeton has also been restored\nin excellent taste. On Revelstoke a vast amount of money has been\nlavished unsatisfactorily. Near Cornwood station is Fardell, an old\nmansion of Sir Walter Raleigh, with a chapel.\n\nThe same station serves for the Awns and Dendles cascade, and for\na visit to the Stall Moor with its long stone row, also the more\nthan two-mile-long row, leading from the Staldon circle, and the\nold blowing-houses on the Yealm at Yealm Steps. There the old\nmoulds for the tin lie among the ruins of two of these houses,\none above the steps, the other below. A further excursion may be\nmade into the Erme valley, with its numerous prehistoric remains,\nand to the blowing-house at the junction of the Hook Lake. This is\ncomparatively late, as there is a wheel-pit.\n\nNorth of Plymouth interesting excursions may be made to the\nDewerstone, perhaps the finest bit of rock scenery on Dartmoor, or\nrather at its edge, where the so-called Plym bursts forth from its\nmoorland cradle. The summit of the Dewerstone has been fortified\nby a double line of walls. A walk thence up the river will take a\nvisitor into some wild country. He will pass Legis Tor with its\nhut circles in very fair preservation, Ditsworthy Warren, and at\nDrizzlecombe, coming in from the north, he will see avenues of\nstones and menhirs and the Giant's Grave, a large cairn, and a\nwell-preserved kistvaen. By the stream bed below is a blowing-house\nwith its tin moulds. Shavercombe stream comes down on the right, and\nthere may be found traces of the slate that overlay the granite,\nmuch altered by heat. From Trowlesworthy Warren a wall, fallen,\nextends, in connection with numerous hut circles, as far as the\nYealm. For what purpose it was erected, unless it were a tribal\nboundary, it is impossible to discover.\n\nA visitor to the Dewerstone should not fail to descend through the\nwood to the Meavy river, and follow it down to Shaugh Bridge.\n\nAn interesting house is Old Newnham, the ancient seat of the Strode\nfamily.\n\nHard by is Peacock Bridge. Here a fight took place, according to\ntradition, between a Parker and a Strode, with their retainers,\nrelative to a peacock, and Strode had his thumb cut off in the fray.\n\nBuckland Monachorum also is within reach, the church converted into\na mansion.\n\nMeavy Church contains early and rude carving. Sheepstor stands above\nan artificial lake, the reservoir that supplies Plymouth with water.\nThis occupies the site of an ancient lake, that had been filled with\nrubble brought down by the torrents from the moor.\n\nA delightful walk may be taken by branching from the Princetown\nroad to Nosworthy Bridge, passing under Leather Tor and following\nDeancombe, then ascending Combshead Tor to an interesting group of\nprehistoric remains, a cairn surrounded by a circle of stones, and\na stone row leading to a chambered cairn. By continuing the line\nnorth-east Nun's or Siward's Cross will be reached in the midst of\nutter desolation. Far away east is Childe's Tomb, a kistvaen.\n\nThe story is that Childe, a hunter, lost himself on the moor. Snow\ncame on, and he cut open his horse, and crept within the carcass to\nkeep himself warm. But even this did not avail.\n\n    So with his finger dipp'd in blood,\n      He scrabbled on the stones:\n    \"This is my will, God it fulfil,\n      And buried be my bones.\n    Whoe'er he be that findeth me,\n      And brings me to a grave,\n    The lands that now to me belong\n      In Plymstock he shall have.\"\n\nThe story goes on to say that while the men of Plymstock were\npreparing to transport the body thither, the monks of Tavistock\nwhipped it off, threw a bridge of planks, since called Guile Bridge,\nover the Tavy, and interred the hunter in their cemetery, thereby\nobtaining possession of his lands.\n\n\nEND OF VOL I.\n\n\n\n\n  PLYMOUTH\n  WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON\n  PRINTERS\n\n\n\n\n  A CATALOGUE OF BOOKS\n  AND ANNOUNCEMENTS OF\n  METHUEN AND COMPANY\n  PUBLISHERS : LONDON\n  36 ESSEX STREET\n  W.C.\n\n\n\n\n  CONTENTS\n\n\n                                        PAGE\n\n  FORTHCOMING BOOKS,                       3\n\n  POETRY,                                  9\n\n  BELLES LETTRES, ANTHOLOGIES, ETC.,      10\n\n  ILLUSTRATED BOOKS,                      11\n\n  HISTORY,                                11\n\n  BIOGRAPHY,                              14\n\n  TRAVEL, ADVENTURE AND TOPOGRAPHY,       15\n\n  NAVAL AND MILITARY,                     17\n\n  GENERAL LITERATURE,                     18\n\n  SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY,                 20\n\n  PHILOSOPHY,                             20\n\n  THEOLOGY,                               21\n\n  FICTION,                                24\n\n  BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS,               33\n\n  THE PEACOCK LIBRARY,                    33\n\n  UNIVERSITY EXTENSION SERIES,            34\n\n  SOCIAL QUESTIONS OF TO-DAY,             35\n\n  CLASSICAL TRANSLATIONS,                 35\n\n  EDUCATIONAL BOOKS,                      36\n\n\n  FEBRUARY 1899\n\n\n\n\n                               FEBRUARY 1899.\n\n\nMESSRS. METHUEN'S ANNOUNCEMENTS\n\n\nTravel and Adventure\n\n     THE HIGHEST ANDES. By E. A. FITZGERALD. With 40 Illustrations,\n     10 of which are Photogravures, and a Large Map. _Royal 8vo. 30s.\n     net._\n\nAlso, a Small Edition on Handmade Paper, limited to 50 Copies, _4to.\n\u00a35, 5s._\n\n     A narrative of the highest climb yet accomplished. The\n     illustrations have been reproduced with the greatest care, and\n     the book, in addition to its adventurous interest, contains\n     appendices of great scientific value.\n\n     ROUND THE WORLD ON A WHEEL. By JOHN FOSTER FRASER. With 100\n     Illustrations. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     The narrative of a bicycle ride right round the world, which\n     covered over 19,000 miles and occupied 774 days. The book is\n     full of adventure and incident, and contains as much matter as\n     the ordinary book of travel published at six times the price.\n\n     THE HEART OF ASIA. By F. H. SKRINE and E. D. ROSS. With Maps and\n     many Illustrations. _Large crown 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     This is an account, historical, political, economical, and\n     descriptive of Russian Central Asia. The first part of the work\n     contains a concise history of Turkestan, etc. from the earliest\n     times. No such history has hitherto appeared in any European\n     language, and many untranslated Oriental works have been put\n     under contribution by Professor Ross. In the second part Mr.\n     Skrine gives a complete account of Russian Central Asia, with\n     all the latest statistics. Great attention has been paid to the\n     production of accurate maps, and the information contained in\n     this part of the book may be regarded as semi-official.\n\n     THROUGH ASIA. By SVEN HEDIN. With 300 Illustrations from\n     Photographs and Sketches by the Author, and 3 Maps. _Two\n     volumes. Royal 8vo. 36s. net._\n\n     Extracts from reviews of this great book, which _The Times_ has\n     called 'one of the greatest books of the century,' will be found\n     on p. 15.\n\n     CHITRAL: The Story of a Minor Siege. By SIR G. S. ROBERTSON,\n     K.C.S.I. With 22 Illustrations, 4 Plans, and a Map. A New and\n     Cheaper Edition. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     Extracts from reviews of this remarkable book will be found on\n     page 15.\n\n     THREE YEARS IN SAVAGE AFRICA. By LIONEL DECLE. With 100\n     Illustrations and 5 Maps. Second and cheaper Edition. _Demy 8vo.\n     10s. 6d. net._\n\n     THE CAROLINE ISLANDS By F. W. CHRISTIAN. With many Illustrations\n     and Maps. _Large crown 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     This book contains a history and complete description of these\n     islands--their physical features, fauna, flora; the habits, and\n     religious beliefs of the inhabitants. It is the result of many\n     years' residence among the natives, and is the only worthy work\n     on the subject.\n\n\nHistory and Biography\n\n     THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF SIR JOHN EVERETT MILLAIS, President of\n     the Royal Academy. By his Son, J. G. MILLAIS. With nearly 300\n     Illustrations, of which 10 are in photogravure. _Two volumes.\n     Royal 8vo. 32s. net._\n\nA limited edition will also be printed. This will contain 22 of\nMillais' great paintings reproduced in photogravure, with a case\ncontaining an extra set of these Photogravures pulled on India\npaper. The price of this edition will be \u00a34, 4_s. net._\n\n     In these two magnificent volumes is contained the authoritative\n     biography of the most distinguished and popular painter of\n     the last half of the century. They contain the story of his\n     extraordinary boyhood, of his early struggles and triumphs, of\n     the founding of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, now first given\n     to the world in authentic detail, of the painting of most of\n     his famous pictures, of his friendships with many of the most\n     distinguished men of the day in art, letters, and politics, of\n     his home life, and of his sporting tastes. There are a large\n     number of letters to his wife describing the circumstances\n     under which his pictures were painted, letters from Her Majesty\n     the Queen, Lord Beaconsfield, Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Watts, Sir\n     William Harcourt, Lord Rosebery, Lord Leighton, etc., etc.\n     Among them are several illustrated letters from Landseer,\n     Leech, Du Maurier, and Mike Halliday. The last letter that Lord\n     Beaconsfield wrote before his death is reproduced in fac-simile.\n     Sir William Harcourt contributes his reminiscences of Millais,\n     and Mr. Val Prinsep has written a long and most interesting\n     chapter to the same purpose.\n\n     Not the least attractive and remarkable feature of this book\n     will be the magnificence of its illustrations. No more complete\n     representation of the art any painter has ever been produced\n     on the same scale. The owners of Sir John Millais' most famous\n     pictures and their copyrights have generously given their\n     consent to their reproduction in his biography, and, in addition\n     to those pictures with which the public is familiar, over two\n     hundred pictures and sketches which have never been reproduced\n     before, and which, in all probability, will never be seen again\n     by the general public, will appear in these pages. The early\n     chapters contain sketches made by Millais at the age of seven.\n     There follow some exquisite drawings made by him during his\n     Pre-Raphaelite period, a large number of sketches and studies\n     made for his great pictures, water colour sketches, pen-and-ink\n     sketches, and drawings, humorous and serious. There are ten\n     portraits of Millais himself, including two by Mr. Watts and Sir\n     Edward Burne Jones. There is a portrait of Dickens, taken after\n     death, and a sketch of D. G. Rossetti. Thus the book will be not\n     only a biography of high interest and an important contribution\n     to the history of English art, but in the best sense of the\n     word, a beautiful picture book.\n\n     THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE. By EDWARD GIBBON.\n     A New Edition, edited with Notes, Appendices, and Maps by J.\n     B. BURY, LL.D., Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin. _In Seven\n     Volumes. Demy 8vo, gilt top. 8s. 6d. each. Crown 8vo. 6s. each.\n     Vol. VII._\n\n     The concluding Volume of this Edition.\n\n     EVAGRIUS. Edited by Professor L\u00c9ON PARMENTIER of Li\u00e9ge and M.\n     BIDEZ of Gand. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n  [_Byzantine Texts._\n\n     THE HISTORY OF PSELLUS. By C. SATHAS. _Demy 8vo._\n\n  [_Byzantine Texts._\n\n     A CONSTITUTIONAL AND POLITICAL HISTORY OF ROME. By T. M. TAYLOR,\n     M.A., Fellow of Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge, Senior\n     Chancellor's Medallist for Classics, Porson University Scholar,\n     etc., etc. _Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d._\n\n     An account of the origin and growth of the Roman Institutions,\n     and a discussion of the various political movements in Rome from\n     the earliest times to the death of Augustus.\n\n     A HISTORY OF EGYPT, FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE PRESENT DAY.\n     Edited by W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE, D.C.L., LL.D., Professor of\n     Egyptology at University College. Fully Illustrated. _In Six\n     Volumes. Crown 8vo. 6s. each._\n\n  Vol. IV. THE EGYPT OF THE PTOLEMIES. J. P. MAHAFFY.\n  Vol. V. ROMAN EGYPT. J. G. MILNE.\n\n     ANNALS OF SHREWSBURY SCHOOL. By G. W. FISHER, M.A., Assistant\n     Master. With Numerous Illustrations. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     THE HISTORY OF THE MIDLAND RAILWAY. By CLEMENT STRETTON. With\n     many Illustrations. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     Uniform with Mr. Grinling's 'History of the Great Northern\n     Railway.'\n\n     A HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF CYPRUS. By JOHN HACKETT, M.A. _Demy\n     8vo. 12s. 6d._\n\n\nTheology\n\n     ST. PAUL, THE MASTER-BUILDER. By WALTER LOCK, D. D., Warden of\n     Keble College. _Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     An attempt to popularise the recent additions to our knowledge\n     of St. Paul as a missionary, a statesman and an ethical teacher.\n\n     AN INTRODUCTION TO THE BOOKS OF THE BIBLE. By W. H. BENNETT,\n     M.A., and W. F. ADENEY, M.A. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n\nOxford Commentaries.\n\nGeneral Editor, WALTER LOCK, D.D., Warden of Keble College Dean\nIreland's Professor of Exegesis in the University of Oxford.\n\nMessrs. METHUEN propose to issue a series of Commentaries upon such\nBooks of the Bible as still seem to need further explanation.\n\nThe object of each Commentary is primarily exegetical, to interpret\nthe author's meaning to the present generation. The editors will\nnot deal, except very subordinately, with questions of textual\ncriticism or philology; but taking the English text in the\nRevised Version as their basis, they will try to combine a hearty\nacceptance of critical principles with loyalty to the Catholic\nFaith. It is hoped that in this way the series may be of use both\nto theological students and to the clergy, and also to the growing\nnumber of educated laymen and laywomen who wish to read the Bible\nintelligently and reverently.\n\n     THE BOOK OF JOB. Edited, with Introduction and Notes, by E. C.\n     S. GIBSON, D.D., Vicar of Leeds. _Demy 8vo. 6s._\n\n\nThe Churchman's Bible.\n\nGeneral Editor, J. H. BURN, B.D., Examining Chaplain to the Bishop\nof Aberdeen.\n\nMessrs. METHUEN propose to issue a series of expositions upon\nmost of the books of the Bible. The volumes will be practical and\ndevotional rather than critical in their purpose, and the text of\nthe authorised version will be explained in sections or paragraphs,\nwhich will correspond as far as possible with the divisions of the\nChurch Lectionary.\n\nThe volumes will be produced in a very handy and tasteful form, and\nmay be obtained in cloth or leather bindings.\n\nThe first volume will be:\n\n     THE EPISTLE OF ST. PAUL TO THE GALATIANS. Explained by A. W.\n     ROBINSON, B.D., Vicar of All Hallows, Barking. _Fcap. 8vo. 2s._\n     Leather, _3s. net._\n\n\nHandbooks of Theology.\n\nGeneral Editor, A. ROBERTSON, D.D., Principal of King's College,\nLondon.\n\n     AN INTRODUCTION TO THE HISTORY OF THE CREEDS. By A. E. BURN,\n     Examining Chaplain to the Bishop of Lichfield. _Demy 8vo. 10s.\n     6d._\n\nThe Library of Devotion.\n\n_Pott 8vo. Cloth 2s.; leather 2s. 6d. net._\n\n_NEW VOLUMES._\n\n     A SERIOUS CALL TO A DEVOUT AND HOLY LIFE. By WILLIAM LAW.\n     Edited, with an Introduction by C. BIGG, D.D., late Student of\n     Christ Church.\n\n     This is a reprint, word for word and line for line, of the\n     _Editio Princeps_.\n\n     LYRA INNOCENTIUM. By JOHN KEBLE. Edited, with Introduction and\n     Notes, by WALTER LOCK, D.D., Warden of Keble College, Oxford.\n\n     This is edited on the same scale as 'The Christian Year.' Dr.\n     Lock has corrected the printed text by collating it with the MS.\n     in the Keble College Library, and has added an Introduction, and\n     an analysis and explanatory notes to each of the more difficult\n     poems.\n\n\nGeneral Literature\n\nThe Arden Shakespeare.\n\nGeneral Editor, EDWARD DOWDEN, Litt. D.\n\nMESSRS. METHUEN have in preparation an Edition of Shakespeare in\nsingle Plays. Each play will be edited with a full Introduction,\nNotes on the text, and a Commentary at the foot of the page.\n\n     The first volume will be:\n\n     HAMLET. Edited by EDWARD DOWDEN. _Demy 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n\nThe Novels of Charles Dickens.\n\n_Crown 8vo. Each Volume, cloth 3s., leather 4s. net._\n\nMessrs. METHUEN have in preparation an edition of those novels of\nCharles Dickens which have now passed out of copyright. Mr. George\nGissing, whose critical study of Dickens is both sympathetic and\nacute, has written an Introduction to each of the books, and a very\nattractive feature of this edition will be the illustrations of\nthe old houses, inns, and buildings, which Dickens described, and\nwhich have now in many instances disappeared under the touch of\nmodern civilisation. Another valuable feature will be a series of\ntopographical notes to each book by Mr. F. G. Kitton. The books will\nbe produced with the greatest care as to printing, paper and binding.\n\n     The first volumes will be:\n\n     THE PICKWICK PAPERS. With Illustrations by E. H. NEW. _Two\n     Volumes._\n\n     NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. With Illustrations by R. J. WILLIAMS. _Two\n     Volumes._\n\n     BLEAK HOUSE. With Illustrations by BEATRICE ALCOCK. _Two\n     Volumes._\n\n     OLIVER TWIST. With Illustrations by E. H. NEW. _Two Volumes._\n\n\nThe Little Library.\n\n_Pott 8vo. Each Volume, cloth 2s.; leather 2s. 6d. net._\n\nMessrs. METHUEN intend to produce a series of small books under the\nabove title, containing some of the famous books in English and\nother literatures, in the domains of fiction, poetry, and belles\nlettres. The series will also contain several volumes of selections\nin prose and verse.\n\nThe books will be edited with the most sympathetic and scholarly\ncare. Each one will contain an Introduction which will give (1) a\nshort biography of the author, (2) a critical estimate of the book,\n(3) short bibliographical details. Where they are necessary, short\nnotes will be added at the foot of the page.\n\nThe Little Library will ultimately contain complete sets of the\nnovels of W. M. Thackeray, Jane Austen, the sisters Bront\u00e9, Mrs.\nGaskell and others. It will also contain the best work of many\nother novelists whose names are household words.\n\nEach book will have a portrait or frontispiece in photogravure, and\nthe volumes will be produced with great care in a style uniform with\nthat of 'The Library of Devotion.'\n\n     The first volumes will be:\n\n     A LITTLE BOOK OF ENGLISH LYRICS.\n\n     PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. By JANE AUSTEN. With an Introduction by E.\n     V. LUCAS. _Two Volumes._\n\n     VANITY FAIR. By W. M. THACKERAY. With an Introduction by S.\n     GWYNN. _Three Volumes._\n\n     EOTHEN. By A. W. KINGLAKE. With an Introduction.\n\n     CRANFORD. By Mrs. GASKELL. With an Introduction by E. V. LUCAS.\n\n     JANE EYRE. By CHARLOTTE BRONT\u00c9. With an Introduction by R.\n     BAYNE. _Two Volumes._\n\n\nThe Little Guides.\n\n_Pott 8vo, cloth 3s.; leather 3s. 6d. net._\n\n_NEW VOLUME._\n\n     SHAKESPEARE'S COUNTRY. By B. C. WINDLE, M.A. Illustrated by E.\n     H. NEW.\n\n     Uniform with Mr. Wells' 'Oxford' and Mr. Thomson's 'Cambridge.'\n\n\nFiction\n\n_A NEW DEPARTURE IN PUBLISHING._\n\nMessrs. METHUEN contemplate a very interesting experiment in\npublishing. They are about to issue at Sixpence, under the general\ntitle of 'Methuen's Library of Fiction,' stories by some of the best\nknown writers of the day. A few books will be reprints, but most\nwill be new works hitherto unpublished in book form.\n\nA considerable number of Sixpenny Editions of old books have already\nbeen issued by various publishers, but in no case has the work of an\nauthor of high repute been published in the first instance at that\nprice. This Messrs. Methuen will attempt, and the first book thus\npublished will be by E. W. Hornung. Mr. Robert Barr and Mr. Cutliffe\nHyne will follow, and later will be published books by Mr. Baring\nGould and others. In some cases the same book will be published\nsimultaneously both at Sixpence and at a higher price. Messrs.\nMethuen recognise the inevitable tendencies of an age of cheap\nliterature. The theatre has its stalls and its pit, the railway its\nfirst and its third classes: so the novelist may well have a double\naudience, and while the wealthy will still pay Six Shillings for\ntheir novels, those of limited means will be able to purchase the\nsame book in a decent but less luxurious form.\n\n     A NEW NOVEL. By E. W. HORNUNG. _Demy 8vo. 6d._\n\n     JENNY BAXTER. By ROBERT BARR. _Demy 8vo. 6d._\n\n     THE COUNTESS TEKLA. By ROBERT BARR, Author of 'The Mutable\n     Many.' _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     A romance of adventure.\n\n     THE CAPSINA. By E. F. BENSON, Author of 'Dodo.' With\n     Illustrations by G. P. JACOMB-HOOD. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     THE HUMAN BOY. By EDEN PHILPOTTS, Author of 'Children of the\n     Mist.' _Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     A series of studies of the English schoolboy, the result of keen\n     observation, and of a most engaging wit.\n\n     ANNE MAULEVERER. By Mrs. CAFFYN (Iota). Author of 'The Yellow\n     Aster.' _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     RACHEL. By JANE HELEN FINDLATER, Author of 'The Green Graves of\n     Balgowrie.' _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     BETTY MUSGRAVE. By MARY FINDLATER, Author of 'Over the Hills.'\n     _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     THE PATH OF A STAR. By SARA JEANETTE DUNCAN, Author of 'A Voyage\n     of Consolation.' _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     THE AMATEUR CRACKSMAN. By E. W. HORNUNG, Author of 'Young\n     Blood.' _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     THE PATHS OF THE PRUDENT. By J. S. FLETCHER, Author of 'When\n     Charles I. was King.' _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     GILES INGILBY. By W. E. NORRIS. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     ROSE A CHARLITTE. By MARSHALL SAUNDERS. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     A romantic story of Acadie.\n\n     ADRIAN ROME. By E. DOWSON and A. MOORE, Authors of 'A Comedy of\n     Masks.' _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED. By DOROTHEA GERARD, Author of 'Lady\n     Baby,' 'Orthodox,' etc. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     LONE PINE. By R. B. TOWNSHEND. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     A romance of Mexican life.\n\n     TALES OF NORTHUMBRIA. By HOWARD PEASE. _Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n\n\n\nA CATALOGUE OF\n\nMESSRS. METHUEN'S\n\nPUBLICATIONS\n\n\n\n\nPoetry\n\n\n     =Rudyard Kipling.= BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS. By RUDYARD\n     KIPLING. _47th Thousand. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Mr. Kipling's verse is strong, vivid, full of character....\n     Unmistakeable genius rings in every line.'--_Times._\n\n     'The ballads teem with imagination, they palpitate with emotion.\n     We read them with laughter and tears; the metres throb in our\n     pulses, the cunningly ordered words tingle with life; and if\n     this be not poetry, what is?'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     =Rudyard Kipling.= THE SEVEN SEAS. By RUDYARD KIPLING.\n     _41st Thousand. Cr. 8vo. Buckram, gilt top. 6s._\n\n     'The new poems of Mr. Rudyard Kipling have all the spirit and\n     swing of their predecessors. Patriotism is the solid concrete\n     foundation on which Mr. Kipling has built the whole of his\n     work.'--_Times._\n\n     'The Empire has found a singer; it is no depreciation of the\n     songs to say that statesmen may have, one way or other, to take\n     account of them.'--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     'Animated through and through with indubitable genius.'--_Daily\n     Telegraph._\n\n     \"=Q.=\" POEMS AND BALLADS. By \"Q.\" _Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'This work has just the faint, ineffable touch and glow that\n     make poetry.'--_Speaker._\n\n     \"=Q.=\" GREEN BAYS: Verses and Parodies. By \"Q.\" _Second\n     Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     =E. Mackay.= A SONG OF THE SEA. By ERIC MACKAY. _Second\n     Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._\n\n     'Everywhere Mr. Mackay displays himself the master of\n     a style marked by all the characteristics of the best\n     rhetoric.'--_Globe._\n\n     =H. Ibsen.= BRAND. A Drama by HENRIK IBSEN. Translated by\n     WILLIAM WILSON. _Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'The greatest world-poem of the nineteenth century next to\n     \"Faust.\" It is in the same set with \"Agamemnon,\" with \"Lear,\"\n     with the literature that we now instinctively regard as high and\n     holy.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     \"=A. G.=\" VERSES TO ORDER. By \"A. G.\" _Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d.\n     net._\n\n     'A capital specimen of light academic poetry.'--_St. James's\n     Gazette._\n\n     =James Williams.= VENTURES IN VERSE. By JAMES WILLIAMS,\n     Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford. _Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'In matter and manner the book is admirable.'--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n     =J. G. Cordery.= THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER. A Translation by J.\n     G. CORDERY. _Crown 8vo. 7s. 6d._\n\n     'A spirited, accurate, and scholarly piece of work.'--_Glasgow\n     Herald._\n\n\n\n\nBelles Lettres, Anthologies, etc.\n\n\n     =R. L. Stevenson.= VAILIMA LETTERS. By ROBERT LOUIS\n     STEVENSON. With an Etched Portrait by WILLIAM STRANG. _Second\n     Edition. Crown 8vo. Buckram. 6s._\n\n  'A fascinating book.'--_Standard._\n  'Full of charm and brightness.'--_Spectator._\n  'A gift almost priceless.'--_Speaker._\n  'Unique in Literature.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     =G. Wyndham.= THE POEMS OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. Edited with\n     an Introduction and Notes by GEORGE WYNDHAM, M.P. _Demy 8vo.\n     Buckram, gilt top. 10s. 6d._\n\n     This edition contains the 'Venus,' 'Lucrece,' and Sonnets, and\n     is prefaced with an elaborate introduction of over 140 pp.\n\n     'One of the most serious contributions to Shakespearian\n     criticism that have been published for some time.'--_Times._\n\n     'A scholarly and interesting contribution to\n     literature.'--_Literature._\n\n     'We have no hesitation in describing Mr. George Wyndham's\n     introduction as a masterly piece of criticism, and all who love\n     our Elizabethan literature will find a very garden of delight in\n     it.'--_Spectator._\n\n     'Mr. Wyndham's notes are admirable, even\n     indispensable.'--_Westminster Gazette._\n\n     =W. E. Henley.= ENGLISH LYRICS. Selected and Edited by W.\n     E. HENLEY. _Crown 8vo. Buckram, gilt top. 6s._\n\n     'It is a body of choice and lovely poetry.--_Birmingham Gazette._\n\n     =Henley and Whibley.= A BOOK OF ENGLISH PROSE. Collected by\n     W. E. HENLEY and CHARLES WHIBLEY. _Crown 8vo. Buckram, gilt top.\n     6s._\n\n     'Quite delightful. A greater treat for those not well acquainted\n     with pre-Restoration prose could not be imagined.--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =H. C. Beeching.= LYRA SACRA: An Anthology of Sacred Verse.\n     Edited by H. C. BEECHING, M.A. _Crown 8vo. Buckram. 6s._\n\n     'A charming selection, which maintains a lofty standard of\n     excellence.'--_Times._\n\n     \"=Q.=\" THE GOLDEN POMP. A Procession of English Lyrics.\n     Arranged by A. T. QUILLER COUCH. _Crown 8vo. Buckram. 6s._\n\n     'A delightful volume: a really golden \"Pomp.\"'--_Spectator._\n\n     =W. B. Yeats.= AN ANTHOLOGY OF IRISH VERSE. Edited by W. B.\n     YEATS. _Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'An attractive and catholic selection.'--_Times._\n\n     =G. W. Steevens.= MONOLOGUES OF THE DEAD. By G. W.\n     STEEVENS. _Foolscap 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'The effect is sometimes splendid, sometimes bizarre, but always\n     amazingly clever.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     =W. M. Dixon.= A PRIMER OF TENNYSON. By W. M. DIXON, M.A.\n     _Cr. 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n     'Much sound and well-expressed criticism. The bibliography is a\n     boon.'--_Speaker._\n\n     =W. A. Craigie.= A PRIMER OF BURNS. By W. A. CRAIGIE.\n     _Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n     'A valuable addition to the literature of the poet.'--_Times._\n\n     =L. Magnus.= A PRIMER OF WORDSWORTH. By LAURIE MAGNUS.\n     _Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n     'A valuable contribution to Wordsworthian\n     literature.'--_Literature._\n\n     =Sterne.= THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF TRISTRAM SHANDY. By\n     LAWRENCE STERNE. With an Introduction by CHARLES WHIBLEY, and a\n     Portrait. _2 vols. 7s._\n\n     'Very dainty volumes are these: the paper, type, and light-green\n     binding are all very agreeable to the eye.'--_Globe._\n\n     =Congreve.= THE COMEDIES OF WILLIAM CONGREVE. With an\n     Introduction by G. S. STREET, and a Portrait. _2 vols. 7s._\n\n     =Morier.= THE ADVENTURES OF HAJJI BABA OF ISPAHAN. By\n     JAMES MORIER. With an Introduction by E. G. BROWNE, M.A., and a\n     Portrait. _2 vols. 7s._\n\n     =Walton.= THE LIVES OF DONNE, WOTTON, HOOKER, HERBERT AND\n     SANDERSON. By IZAAK WALTON. With an Introduction by VERNON\n     BLACKBURN, and a Portrait. _3s. 6d._\n\n     =Johnson.= THE LIVES OF THE ENGLISH POETS. By SAMUEL\n     JOHNSON, LL.D. With an Introduction by J. H. MILLAR, and a\n     Portrait. _3 vols. 10s. 6d._\n\n     =Burns.= THE POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS. Edited by ANDREW LANG\n     and W. A. CRAIGIE. With Portrait. _Second Edition. Demy 8vo,\n     gilt top. 6s._\n\n     This edition contains a carefully collated Text, numerous Notes,\n     critical and textual, a critical and biographical Introduction,\n     and a Glossary.\n\n     'Among editions in one volume, this will take the place of\n     authority.'--_Times._\n\n     =F. Langbridge.= BALLADS OF THE BRAVE; Poems of Chivalry,\n     Enterprise, Courage, and Constancy. Edited by Rev. F.\n     LANGBRIDGE. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d. School Edition.\n     2s. 6d._\n\n     'A very happy conception happily carried out. These \"Ballads of\n     the Brave\" are intended to suit the real tastes of boys, and\n     will suit the taste of the great majority.'--_Spectator._\n\n     'The book is full of splendid things.'--_World._\n\n\n\n\nIllustrated Books\n\n\n     =John Bunyan.= THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. By JOHN BUNYAN.\n     Edited, with an Introduction, by C. H. FIRTH, M.A. With 39\n     Illustrations by R. ANNING BELL. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     This book contains a long Introduction by Mr. Firth, whose\n     knowledge of the period is unrivalled; and it is lavishly\n     illustrated.\n\n     'The best \"Pilgrim's Progress.\"'--_Educational Times._\n\n     'A choice edition.'--_Westminster Gazette._\n\n     =F. D. Bedford.= NURSERY RHYMES. With many Coloured\n     Pictures by F. D. BEDFORD. _Super Royal 8vo. 5s._\n\n     'An excellent selection of the best known rhymes, with\n     beautifully coloured pictures exquisitely printed.'--_Pall Mall\n     Gazette._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES retold by S.\n     BARING GOULD. With numerous Illustrations and Initial Letters by\n     ARTHUR J. GASKIN. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. Buckram. 6s._\n\n     'Mr. Baring Gould is deserving of gratitude, in re-writing in\n     simple style the old stories that delighted our fathers and\n     grandfathers.'--_Saturday Review._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= OLD ENGLISH FAIRY TALES. Collected and\n     edited by S. BARING GOULD. With Numerous Illustrations by F. D.\n     BEDFORD. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. Buckram. 6s._\n\n     'A charming volume.'--_Guardian._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= A BOOK OF NURSERY SONGS AND RHYMES.\n     Edited by S. BARING GOULD, and Illustrated by the Birmingham Art\n     School. _Buckram, gilt top. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =H. C. Beeching.= A BOOK OF CHRISTMAS VERSE. Edited by H.\n     C. BEECHING, M.A., and Illustrated by WALTER CRANE. _Cr. 8vo,\n     gilt top. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'An anthology which, from its unity of aim and high poetic\n     excellence, has a better right to exist than most of its\n     fellows.'--_Guardian._\n\n\n\n\nHistory\n\n\n     =Gibbon.= THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE. By\n     EDWARD GIBBON. A New Edition, Edited with Notes, Appendices, and\n     Maps, by J. B. BURY, LL.D., Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin.\n     _In Seven Volumes. Demy 8vo. Gilt top. 8s. 6d. each. Also Cr.\n     8vo. 6s. each. Vols. I., II., III., IV., V., and VI._\n\n     'The time has certainly arrived for a new edition of Gibbon's\n     great work.... Professor Bury is the right man to undertake this\n     task. His learning is amazing, both in extent and accuracy. The\n     book is issued in a handy form, and at a moderate price, and it\n     is admirably printed.'--_Times._\n\n     'This edition is a marvel of erudition and critical skill, and\n     it is the very minimum of praise to predict that the seven\n     volumes of it will supersede Dean Milman's as the standard\n     edition of our great historical classic.'--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n     'At last there is an adequate modern edition of Gibbon.... The\n     best edition the nineteenth century could produce.'--_Manchester\n     Guardian._\n\n     =Flinders Petrie.= A HISTORY OF EGYPT, FROM THE EARLIEST\n     TIMES TO THE PRESENT DAY. Edited by W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE,\n     D.C.L., LL.D., Professor of Egyptology at University College.\n     _Fully Illustrated. In Six Volumes. Cr. 8vo. 6s. each._\n\n     VOL. I. PREHISTORIC TIMES TO XVITH DYNASTY. W. M. F. Petrie.\n     _Third Edition._\n\n     VOL. II. THE XVIITH AND XVIIITH DYNASTIES. W. M. F. Petrie.\n     _Second Edition._\n\n     'A history written in the spirit of scientific precision so\n     worthily represented by Dr. Petrie and his school cannot but\n     promote sound and accurate study, and supply a vacant place in\n     the English literature of Egyptology.'--_Times._\n\n     =Flinders Petrie.= RELIGION AND CONSCIENCE IN ANCIENT\n     EGYPT. By W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE, D.C.L., LL.D. Fully\n     Illustrated. _Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n     'The lectures will afford a fund of valuable information for\n     students of ancient ethics.'--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     =Flinders Petrie.= SYRIA AND EGYPT, FROM THE TELL EL AMARNA\n     TABLETS. By W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE, D.C.L., LL.D. _Crown 8vo. 2s.\n     6d._\n\n     'A marvellous record. The addition made to our knowledge is\n     nothing short of amazing.'--_Times._\n\n     =Flinders Petrie.= EGYPTIAN TALES. Edited by W. M. FLINDERS\n     PETRIE. Illustrated by TRISTRAM ELLIS. _In Two Volumes. Cr. 8vo.\n     3s. 6d. each._\n\n     'Invaluable as a picture of life in Palestine and\n     Egypt.'--_Daily News._\n\n     =Flinders Petrie.= EGYPTIAN DECORATIVE ART. By W. M.\n     FLINDERS PETRIE. With 120 Illustrations. _Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'In these lectures he displays rare skill in elucidating the\n     development of decorative art in Egypt.'--_Times._\n\n     =C. W. Oman.= A HISTORY OF THE ART OF WAR. Vol. 11.: The\n     Middle Ages, from the Fourth to the Fourteenth Century. By C.\n     W. OMAN, M.A., Fellow of All Souls', Oxford. Illustrated. _Demy\n     8vo. 21s._\n\n     'The book is based throughout upon a thorough study of the\n     original sources, and will be an indispensable aid to all\n     students of medi\u00e6val history.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     'The whole art of war in its historic evolution has never\n     been treated on such an ample and comprehensive scale, and we\n     question if any recent contribution to the exact history of the\n     world has possessed more enduring value.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= THE TRAGEDY OF THE C\u00c6SARS. With numerous\n     Illustrations from Busts, Gems, Cameos, etc. By S. BARING GOULD.\n     _Fourth Edition, Royal 8vo. 15s._\n\n     'A most splendid and fascinating book on a subject of undying\n     interest. The great feature of the book is the use the author\n     has made of the existing portraits of the Caesars and the\n     admirable critical subtlety he has exhibited in dealing\n     with this line of research. It is brilliantly written,\n     and the illustrations are supplied on a scale of profuse\n     magnificence.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     =F. W. Maitland.= CANON LAW IN ENGLAND. By F. W. MAITLAND,\n     LL.D., Downing Professor of the Laws of England in the\n     University of Cambridge. _Royal 8vo. 7s. 6d._\n\n     'Professor Maitland has put students of English law under a\n     fresh debt. These essays are landmarks in the study of the\n     history of Canon Law.'--_Times._\n\n     =H. de B. Gibbins.= INDUSTRY IN ENGLAND: HISTORICAL\n     OUTLINES. By H. DE B. GIBBINS, M.A., D. Litt. With 5 Maps.\n     _Second Edition. Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     =H. E. Egerton.= A HISTORY OF BRITISH COLONIAL POLICY. By\n     H. E. EGERTON, M.A. _Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d._\n\n     'It is a good book, distinguished by accuracy in detail,\n     clear arrangement of facts, and a broad grasp of\n     principles.'--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     'Able, impartial, clear.... A most valuable volume.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =Albert Sorel.= THE EASTERN QUESTION IN THE EIGHTEENTH\n     CENTURY. By ALBERT SOREL, of the French Academy. Translated by\n     F. C. BRAMWELL, M.A., with an Introduction by C. R. L. FLETCHER,\n     Fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford. With a Map. _Cr. 8vo. 3s.\n     6d._\n\n     'The author's insight into the character and motives of the\n     leading actors in the drama gives the work an interest uncommon\n     in books based on similar material.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     =C. H. Grinling.= A HISTORY OF THE GREAT NORTHERN RAILWAY,\n     1845-95. By CHARLES H. GRINLING. With Maps and Illustrations.\n     _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     'Admirably written, and crammed with interesting facts.'--_Daily\n     Mail._\n\n     'The only adequate history of a great English railway\n     company.'--_Times._\n\n     'Mr. Grinling has done for a Railway what Macaulay did for\n     English History.'--_The Engineer._\n\n     =W. Sterry.= ANNALS OF ETON COLLEGE. By W. STERRY, M.A.\n     With numerous Illustrations. _Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d._\n\n     'A treasury of quaint and interesting reading. Mr. Sterry has by\n     his skill and vivacity given these records new life.'--_Academy._\n\n     'A most attractive and admirably illustrated account.'--_Daily\n     Chronicle._\n\n     =J. Sargeaunt.= ANNALS OF WESTMINSTER SCHOOL. By J.\n     SARGEAUNT, M.A., Assistant Master. With numerous Illustrations.\n     _Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d._\n\n     =A. Clark.= THE COLLEGES OF OXFORD: Their History and their\n     Traditions. By Members of the University. Edited by A. CLARK,\n     M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Lincoln College. _8vo. 12s. 6d._\n\n     'A work which will be appealed to for many years as the standard\n     book.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =Perrens.= THE HISTORY OF FLORENCE FROM 1434 TO 1492. By F.\n     T. PERRENS. _8vo. 12s. 6d._\n\n     A history of the domination of Cosimo, Piero, and Lorenzo de\n     Medicis.\n\n     =J. Wells.= A SHORT HISTORY OF ROME. By J. WELLS, M.A.,\n     Fellow and Tutor of Wadham Coll., Oxford. _Second and Revised\n     Edition._ With 3 Maps. _Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     This book is intended for the Middle and Upper Forms of Public\n     Schools and for Pass Students at the Universities. It contains\n     copious Tables, etc.\n\n     'An original work written on an original plan, and with uncommon\n     freshness and vigour.'--_Speaker._\n\n     =O. Browning.= A SHORT HISTORY OF MEDI\u00c6VAL ITALY, A.D.\n     1250-1530. By OSCAR BROWNING, Fellow and Tutor of King's\n     College, Cambridge. _In Two Volumes. Cr. 8vo. 5s. each._\n\n     VOL. I. 1250-1409.--Guelphs and Ghibellines.\n\n     VOL. II. 1409-1530.--The Age of the Condottieri.\n\n     'Mr. Browning is to be congratulated on the production of a work\n     of immense labour and learning.'--_Westminster Gazette._\n\n     =O'Grady.= THE STORY OF IRELAND. By STANDISH O'GRADY,\n     Author of 'Finn and his Companions.' _Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n\n\n\nBiography\n\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. By S.\n     BARING GOULD. With over 450 Illustrations in the Text and 12\n     Photogravure Plates. _Large quarto. Gilt top. 36s._\n\n     'The best biography of Napoleon in our tongue, nor have the\n     French as good a biographer of their hero. A book very nearly as\n     good as Southey's \"Life of Nelson.\"'--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     'The main feature of this gorgeous volume is its great wealth\n     of beautiful photogravures and finely-executed wood engravings,\n     constituting a complete pictorial chronicle of Napoleon I.'s\n     personal history from the days of his early childhood at Ajaccio\n     to the date of his second interment.'--_Daily Telegraph._\n\n     'Nearly all the illustrations are real contributions to\n     history.'--_Westminster Gazette._\n\n     =P. H. Colomb.= MEMOIRS OF ADMIRAL SIR A. COOPER KEY. By\n     Admiral P. H. COLOMB. With a Portrait. _Demy 8vo. 16s._\n\n     'An interesting and adequate biography of one who for a quarter\n     of a century had a prominent part in the administration of\n     the Navy. The whole book, in fact, is one of the greatest\n     interest--peculiarly so, it may be, to the naval officer, but\n     also to the average taxpayer and the reading public.'--_Times._\n\n     =Morris Fuller.= THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF JOHN DAVENANT,\n     D.D. (1571-1641), Bishop of Salisbury. By MORRIS FULLER, B.D.\n     _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     =J. M. Rigg.= ST. ANSELM OF CANTERBURY: A CHAPTER IN THE\n     HISTORY OF RELIGION. By J. M. RIGG. _Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d._\n\n     'Mr. Rigg has told the story of the life with scholarly ability,\n     and has contributed an interesting chapter to the history of the\n     Norman period.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     =F. W. Joyce.= THE LIFE OF SIR FREDERICK GORE OUSELEY. By\n     F. W. JOYCE, M.A. _7s. 6d._\n\n     'This book has been undertaken in quite the right spirit, and\n     written with sympathy, insight, and considerable literary\n     skill.'--_Times._\n\n     =W. G. Collingwood.= THE LIFE OF JOHN RUSKIN. By W. G.\n     COLLINGWOOD, M.A. With Portraits, and 13 Drawings by Mr. Ruskin.\n     _Second Edition. 2 vols. 8vo. 32s._\n\n     'No more magnificent volumes have been published for a long\n     time.'--_Times._\n\n     'It is long since we had a biography with such delights of\n     substance and of form. Such a book is a pleasure for the day,\n     and a joy for ever.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     =C. Waldstein.= JOHN RUSKIN, By CHARLES WALDSTEIN, M.A.\n     With a Photogravure Portrait, _Post 8vo. 5s._\n\n     'A thoughtful and well-written criticism of Ruskin's\n     teaching.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     =A. M. F. Darmesteter.= THE LIFE OF ERNEST RENAN. By MADAME\n     DARMESTETER. With Portrait. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A polished gem of biography, superior in its kind to any\n     attempt that has been made of recent years in England. Madame\n     Darmesteter has indeed written for English readers \"_The_ Life\n     of Ernest Renan.\"'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     'It is interpenetrated with the dignity and charm, the mild,\n     bright, classical grace of form and treatment that Renan himself\n     so loved; and it fulfils to the uttermost the delicate and\n     difficult achievement it sets out to accomplish.'--_Academy._\n\n     =W. H. Hutton.= THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. By W. H.\n     HUTTON, M.A. With Portraits. _Cr. 8vo. 5s._\n\n     'The book lays good claim to high rank among our biographies. It\n     is excellently even lovingly, written.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'An excellent monograph.'--_Times._\n\n\n\n\nTravel, Adventure and Topography\n\n\n     =Sven Hedin.= THROUGH ASIA. By SVEN HEDIN, Gold Medallist\n     of the Royal Geographical Society. With 300 Illustrations from\n     Sketches and Photographs by the Author, and Maps. _2 vols. Royal\n     8vo. 36s. net._\n\n     'One of the greatest books of the kind issued during the\n     century. It is impossible to give an adequate idea of the\n     richness of the contents of this book, nor of its abounding\n     attractions as a story of travel unsurpassed in geographical\n     and human interest. Much of it is a revelation. Altogether the\n     work is one which in solidity, novelty, and interest must take a\n     first rank among publications of its class.'--_Times._\n\n     'In these magnificent volumes we have the most important\n     contribution to Central Asian geography made for many years.\n     Intensely interesting as a tale of travel.'--_Spectator._\n\n     'The whole story of the desert adventure is worthy to be added\n     to the classics of its kind.'--_World._\n\n     'These volumes are of absorbing and fascinating interest, their\n     matter is wonderful, and Dr. Hedin's style is surcharged with\n     strong and alluring personality. No romance exceeds in its\n     intense and enthralling interest this story.'--_Birmingham Post._\n\n     'One of the most remarkable books of travel of the\n     century.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     'Profoundly interesting.'--_Academy._\n\n     'A memorable book, gigantic of design, magnificent in execution,\n     and without doubt one of the outstanding travel-volumes of the\n     century.'--_Black and White._\n\n     'Let any one who is desirous to learn about the wonderful\n     continent of Asia as no one else can teach him, buy and read\n     this work.'--_Vanity Fair._\n\n     =R. E. Peary.= NORTHWARD OVER THE GREAT ICE. By R. E.\n     PEARY, Gold Medallist of the Royal Geographical Society. With\n     over 800 Illustrations. _2 vols. Royal 8vo. 32s. net._\n\n     'The book is full of interesting matter--a tale of brave\n     deeds simply told; abundantly illustrated with prints and\n     maps.'--_Standard._\n\n     'His book will take its place among the permanent literature of\n     Arctic exploration.'--_Times._\n\n     It yields neither in interest nor in ability to Nansen's\n     \"Farthest North,\" while its results are no less\n     valuable.'--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n     'Crowded with adventures and intensely interesting.'--_World._\n\n     'An exciting and thoroughly well-arranged book.'--_St. James's\n     Gazette._\n\n     =G. S. Robertson.= CHITRAL: The Story of a Minor Siege. By\n     Sir G. S. ROBERTSON, K.C.S.I. With numerous Illustrations and a\n     Map. _Second Edition. Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     'It is difficult to imagine the kind of person who could\n     read this brilliant book without emotion. The story remains\n     immortal--a testimony imperishable. We are face to face with a\n     great book.'--_Illustrated London News._\n\n     'A book which the Elizabethans would have thought wonderful.\n     More thrilling, more piquant, and more human than any\n     novel.'--_Newcastle Chronicle._\n\n     'One of the most stirring military narratives written in our\n     time.'--_Times._\n\n     'A masterpiece of narrative.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     'As fascinating as Sir Walter Scott's best fiction.'--_Daily\n     Telegraph._\n\n     'Full of dashing feats of courage as any romance.'--_Pall Mall\n     Gazette._\n\n     'Not since the appearance of Lord Roberts's \"Forty-one Years\"\n     have we had a record of Indian warfare which can be compared\n     with this glowing and moving story.'--_Daily Mail._\n\n     'The enthusiastic admiration of the reader cannot fail to be\n     aroused.'--_Morning Post._\n\n     'A classic of frontier literature.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'Any one proud of his name as Englishman may read in\n     these stirring chapters abundant justification for his\n     pride.'--_Globe._\n\n     'A very fascinating, a singularly delightful book.'--_Glasgow\n     Herald._\n\n     'A noble story, nobly told.'--_Punch._\n\n     'Every page is quick with heroism.'--_Outlook._\n\n     =H. H. Johnston.= BRITISH CENTRAL AFRICA. By Sir H. H.\n     JOHNSTON, K.C.B. With nearly Two Hundred Illustrations, and Six\n     Maps. _Second Edition. Crown 4to. 18s. net._\n\n     'A fascinating book, written with equal skill and charm--the\n     work at once of a literary artist and of a man of action who is\n     singularly wise, brave, and experienced. It abounds in admirable\n     sketches from pencil.'--_Westminster Gazette._\n\n     'A delightful book ... collecting within the covers of a single\n     volume all that is known of this part of our African domains.\n     The voluminous appendices are of extreme value.'--_Manchester\n     Guardian._\n\n     =L. Decle.= THREE YEARS IN SAVAGE AFRICA. By LIONEL DECLE.\n     With 100 Illustrations and 5 Maps. _Second Edition. Demy 8vo.\n     10s. 6d. net._\n\n     'A fine, full book.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     'Abounding in thrilling adventures.--_Daily Telegraph._\n\n     'Its bright pages give a better general survey of Africa from\n     the Cape to the Equator than any single volume that has yet been\n     published.'--_Times._\n\n     'A delightful book.'--_Academy._\n\n     'Unquestionably one of the most interesting books of travel\n     which have recently appeared.'--_Standard._\n\n     =A. Hulme Beaman.= TWENTY YEARS IN THE NEAR EAST. By A.\n     HULME BEAMAN. _Demy 8vo._ With Portrait. _10s. 6d._\n\n     'One of the most entertaining books that we have had in our\n     hands for a long time. It is unconventional in a high degree; it\n     is written with sagacious humour; it is full of adventures and\n     anecdotes.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     'Packed with incident and eminently readable.'--_Critic._\n\n     =Henri of Orleans.= FROM TONKIN TO INDIA. By PRINCE\n     HENRI OF ORLEANS. Translated by HAMLEY BENT, M.A. With 100\n     Illustrations and a Map. _Cr. 4to, gilt top. 25s._\n\n     =R. S. S. Baden-Powell.= THE DOWNFALL OF PREMPEH. A Diary\n     of Life in Ashanti, 1895. By Colonel BADEN-POWELL. With 21\n     Illustrations and a Map. _Cheaper Edition. Large Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A compact, faithful, most readable record of the\n     campaign.'--_Daily News._\n\n     =R. S. S. Baden-Powell.= THE MATABELE CAMPAIGN, 1896. By\n     Col. BADEN-POWELL. With nearly 100 Illustrations. _Cheaper\n     Edition. Large Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A straightforward account of a great deal of plucky\n     work.'--_Times._\n\n     =S. L. Hinde.= THE FALL OF THE CONGO ARABS. By S. L. HINDE.\n     With Plans, etc. _Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d._\n\n     =A. St. H. Gibbons.= EXPLORATION AND HUNTING IN CENTRAL\n     AFRICA. By Major A. ST. H. GIBBONS. With full-page Illustrations\n     by C. WHYMPER, and Maps. _Demy 8vo. 15s._\n\n     'His book is a grand record of quiet, unassuming, tactful\n     resolution. His adventures were as various as his sporting\n     exploits were exciting.'--_Times._\n\n     =E. H. Alderson.= WITH THE MASHONALAND FIELD FORCE, 1896.\n     By Lieut.-Colonel ALDERSON. With numerous Illustrations and\n     Plans. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     'A clear, vigorous, and soldier-like narrative.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     =Seymour Vandeleur.= CAMPAIGNING ON THE UPPER NILE AND\n     NIGER. By Lieut. SEYMOUR VANDELEUR. With an Introduction by\n     Sir G. GOLDIE, K.C.M.G. With 4 Maps, Illustrations, and Plans.\n     _Large Crown 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     'Upon the African question there is no book procurable which\n     contains so much of value as this one.'--_Guardian._\n\n     =Lord Fincastle.= A FRONTIER CAMPAIGN. By Viscount\n     FINCASTLE, V.C., and Lieut. P. C. ELLIOTT-LOCKHART. With a Map\n     and 16 Illustrations. _Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'An admirable book, and a really valuable treatise on frontier\n     war.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =E. N. Bennett.= THE DOWNFALL OF THE DERVISHES: A Sketch of\n     the Sudan Campaign of 1898. By E. N. BENNETT, Fellow of Hertford\n     College. With Four Maps and a Photogravure Portrait of the\n     Sirdar. _Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     =J. K. Trotter.= THE NIGER SOURCES. By Colonel J. K.\n     TROTTER, R.A. With a Map and Illustrations. _Crown 8vo. 5s._\n\n     'A most interesting as well as a lucidly and modestly written\n     book.'--_Spectator._\n\n     =Michael Davitt.= LIFE AND PROGRESS IN AUSTRALASIA. By\n     MICHAEL DAVITT, M.P. With 2 Maps. _Crown 8vo. 6s._ 500 pp.\n\n     'One of the most valuable contributions to our store of Imperial\n     literature that has been published for a very long time.'--_Pall\n     Mall Gazette._\n\n     =W. Crooke.= THE NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF INDIA: THEIR\n     ETHNOLOGY AND ADMINISTRATION. By W. CROOKE. With Maps and\n     Illustrations. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     'A carefully and well-written account of one of the most\n     important provinces of the Empire. Mr. Crooke deals with the\n     land in its physical aspect, the province under Hindoo and\n     Mussulman rule, under British rule, its ethnology and sociology,\n     its religious and social life, the land and its settlement, and\n     the native peasant. The illustrations are good, and the map is\n     excellent.'--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     =A. Boisragon.= THE BENIN MASSACRE. By CAPTAIN BOISRAGON.\n     _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s._ 6_d_.\n\n     'If the story had been written four hundred years ago it would\n     be read to-day as an English classic.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'If anything could enhance the horror and the pathos of this\n     remarkable book it is the simple style of the author, who writes\n     as he would talk, unconscious of his own heroism, with an\n     artlessness which is the highest art.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     =H. S. Cowper.= THE HILL OF THE GRACES: OR, THE GREAT STONE\n     TEMPLES OF TRIPOLI. By H. S. COWPER, F.S.A. With Maps, Plans,\n     and 75 Illustrations. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     'Forms a valuable chapter of what has now become quite a large\n     and important branch of antiquarian research.'--_Times._\n\n     =W. Kinnaird Rose.= WITH THE GREEKS IN THESSALY. By W.\n     KINNAIRD ROSE, Reuter's Correspondent. With Plans and 23\n     Illustrations. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =W. B. Worsfold.= SOUTH AFRICA. By W. B. WORSFOLD, M.A.\n     _With a Map. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A monumental work compressed into a very moderate\n     compass.'--_World._\n\n\n\n\nNaval and Military\n\n\n     =G. W. Steevens.= NAVAL POLICY: By G. W. STEEVENS. _Demy\n     8vo. 6s._\n\n     This book is a description of the British and other more\n     important navies of the world, with a sketch of the lines on\n     which our naval policy might possibly be developed.\n\n     'An extremely able and interesting work.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     =D. Hannay.= A SHORT HISTORY OF THE ROYAL NAVY, FROM EARLY\n     TIMES TO THE PRESENT DAY. By DAVID HANNAY. Illustrated. _2 Vols.\n     Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. each._ Vol. I., 1200-1688.\n\n     'We read it from cover to cover at a sitting, and those who go\n     to it for a lively and brisk picture of the past, with all its\n     faults and its grandeur, will not be disappointed. The historian\n     is endowed with literary skill and style.'--_Standard._\n\n     'We can warmly recommend Mr. Hannay's volume to any intelligent\n     student of naval history. Great as is the merit of Mr. Hannay's\n     historical narrative, the merit of his strategic exposition is\n     even greater.'--_Times._\n\n     =C. Cooper King.= THE STORY OF THE BRITISH ARMY. By Colonel\n     COOPER KING. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d._\n\n     'An authoritative and accurate story of England's military\n     progress.'--_Daily Mail._\n\n     =R. Southey.= ENGLISH SEAMEN (Howard, Clifford, Hawkins,\n     Drake, Cavendish). By ROBERT SOUTHEY. Edited, with an\n     Introduction, by DAVID HANNAY. _Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Admirable and well-told stories of our naval history.'--_Army\n     and Navy Gazette._\n\n     'A brave, inspiriting book.'--_Black and White._\n\n     =W. Clark Russell.= THE LIFE OF ADMIRAL LORD COLLINGWOOD.\n     By W. CLARK RUSSELL. With Illustrations by F. BRANGWYN. _Third\n     Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A book which we should like to see in the hands of every boy in\n     the country.'--_St. James's Gazette._\n\n     'A really good book.'--_Saturday Review._\n\n     =E. L. S. Horsburgh.= THE CAMPAIGN OF WATERLOO. By E. L. S.\n     HORSBURGH, B.A. With Plans. _Crown 8vo. 5s._\n\n     'A brilliant essay--simple, sound, and thorough.'--_Daily\n     Chronicle._\n\n     =H. B. George.= BATTLES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. By H. B.\n     GEORGE, M.A., Fellow of New College, Oxford. With numerous\n     Plans. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Mr. George has undertaken a very useful task--that of making\n     military affairs intelligible and instructive to non-military\n     readers--and has executed it with a large measure of\n     success.'--_Times._\n\n\n\n\nGeneral Literature\n\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= OLD COUNTRY LIFE. By S. BARING GOULD.\n     With Sixty-seven Illustrations. _Large Cr. 8vo. Fifth Edition.\n     6s._\n\n     '\"Old Country Life,\" as healthy wholesome reading, full of\n     breezy life and movement, full of quaint stories vigorously\n     told, will not be excelled by any book to be published\n     throughout the year. Sound, hearty, and English to the\n     core.'--_World._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= AN OLD ENGLISH HOME. By S. BARING GOULD.\n     With numerous Plans and Illustrations. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'The chapters are delightfully fresh, very informing, and\n     lightened by many a good story. A delightful fireside\n     companion.'--_St. James's Gazette._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= HISTORIC ODDITIES AND STRANGE EVENTS. By\n     S. BARING GOULD. _Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A collection of exciting and entertaining chapters. Delightful\n     reading.'--_Times._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= FREAKS OF FANATICISM. By S. BARING\n     GOULD. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= A GARLAND OF COUNTRY SONG: English Folk\n     Songs with their Traditional Melodies. Collected and arranged by\n     S. BARING GOULD and H. F. SHEPPARD. _Demy 4to. 6s._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= SONGS OF THE WEST: Traditional Ballads\n     and Songs of the West of England, with their Melodies. Collected\n     by S. BARING GOULD, M.A., and H. F. SHEPPARD, M.A. In 4 Parts.\n     _Parts I., II., III., 3s. each. Part IV., 5s. In one Vol.,\n     French morocco, 15s._\n\n     'A rich collection of humour, pathos, grace, and poetic\n     fancy.'--_Saturday Review._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= YORKSHIRE ODDITIES AND STRANGE EVENTS.\n     By S. BARING GOULD. _Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= STRANGE SURVIVALS AND SUPERSTITIONS. By\n     S. BARING GOULD. _Cr. 8vo. Second Edition. 6s._\n\n     =S. Baring Gould.= THE DESERTS OF SOUTHERN FRANCE. By S.\n     BARING GOULD. _2 vols. Demy 8vo. 32s._\n\n     =Cotton Minchin.= OLD HARROW DAYS. By J. G. COTTON MINCHIN.\n     _Cr. 8vo. Second Edition. 5s._\n\n     'This book is an admirable record.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     =W. E. Gladstone.= THE SPEECHES OF THE RT. HON. W. E.\n     GLADSTONE, M.P. Edited by A. W. HUTTON, M.A., and H. J. COHEN,\n     M.A. With Portraits, _Demy 8vo. Vols. IX. and X. 12s. 6d. each._\n\n     =E. V. Zenker.= ANARCHISM. By E. V. ZENKER. _Demy 8vo. 7s.\n     6d._\n\n     'Herr Zenker has succeeded in producing a careful and critical\n     history of the growth of Anarchist theory. He is to be\n     congratulated upon a really interesting work.'--_Literature._\n\n     =H. G. Hutchinson.= THE GOLFING PILGRIM. By HORACE G.\n     HUTCHINSON. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Full of useful information with plenty of good\n     stories.'--_Truth._\n\n     'Without this book the golfer's library will be\n     incomplete.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     'It will charm all golfers.'--_Times._\n\n     =J. Wells.= OXFORD AND OXFORD LIFE. By Members of the\n     University. Edited by J. WELLS, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Wadham\n     College. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'We congratulate Mr. Wells on the production of a readable and\n     intelligent account of Oxford as it is at the present time,\n     written by persons who are possessed of a close acquaintance\n     with the system and life of the University.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =J. Wells.= OXFORD AND ITS COLLEGES. By J. WELLS, M.A.,\n     Fellow and Tutor of Wadham College. Illustrated by E. H. NEW.\n     _Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. Leather. 3s 6d. net._\n\n     'An admirable and accurate little treatise, attractively\n     illustrated.'--_World._\n\n     'A luminous and tasteful little volume.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     'Exactly what the intelligent visitor wants.'--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n     =A. H. Thompson.= CAMBRIDGE AND ITS COLLEGES. By A.\n     HAMILTON THOMPSON. With Illustrations by E. H. NEW. _Pott 8vo.\n     3s. Leather. 3s. 6d. net._\n\n     This book is uniform with Mr. Wells' very successful book,\n     'Oxford and its Colleges.'\n\n     'It is brightly written and learned, and is just such a book as\n     a cultured visitor needs.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'A very neat and tasteful little volume, intelligently\n     condensing all available information.'--_Literature._\n\n     =C. G. Robertson.= VOCES ACADEMIC\u00c6. By C. GRANT ROBERTSON,\n     M.A., Fellow of All Souls', Oxford. _With a Frontispiece. Pott\n     8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'Decidedly clever and amusing.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     'A clever and entertaining little book.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     =Rosemary Cotes.= DANTE'S GARDEN. By ROSEMARY COTES. With a\n     Frontispiece. _Fcp. 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n     'A charming collection of legends of the flowers mentioned by\n     Dante.'--_Academy._\n\n     =Clifford Harrison.= READING AND READERS. By CLIFFORD\n     HARRISON. _Fcp. 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n     'We recommend schoolmasters to examine its merits, for it is at\n     school that readers are made.'--_Academy._\n\n     'An extremely sensible little book.'--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     =L. Whibley.= GREEK OLIGARCHIES: THEIR ORGANISATION AND\n     CHARACTER. By L. WHIBLEY, M.A., Fellow of Pembroke College,\n     Cambridge. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'An exceedingly useful handbook: a careful and well-arranged\n     study.'--_Times._\n\n     =L. L. Price.= ECONOMIC SCIENCE AND PRACTICE. By L. L.\n     PRICE, M.A., Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =J. S. Shedlock.= THE PIANOFORTE SONATA: Its Origin and\n     Development. By J. S. SHEDLOCK. _Crown 8vo. 5s._\n\n     'This work should be in the possession of every musician and\n     amateur. A concise and lucid history and a very valuable work\n     for reference.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =E. M. Bowden.= THE EXAMPLE OF BUDDHA: Being Quotations\n     from Buddhist Literature for each Day in the Year. Compiled by\n     E. M. BOWDEN. _Third Edition. 16mo. 2s. 6d._\n\n\n\n\nScience and Technology\n\n\n     =Freudenreich.= DAIRY BACTERIOLOGY. A Short Manual for the\n     Use of Students. By Dr. ED. VON FREUDENREICH, Translated by J.\n     R. AINSWORTH DAVIS, M.A. _Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n     =Chalmers Mitchell.= OUTLINES OF BIOLOGY. By P. CHALMERS\n     MITCHELL, M.A. _Illustrated. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     A text-book designed to cover the new Schedule issued by the\n     Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons.\n\n     =G. Massee.= A MONOGRAPH OF THE MYXOGASTRES. BY GEORGE\n     MASSEE. With 12 Coloured Plates. _Royal 8vo. 18s. net._\n\n     'A work much in advance of any book in the language treating of\n     this group of organisms. Indispensable to every student of the\n     Myxogastres.'--_Nature._\n\n     =Stephenson and Suddards.= ORNAMENTAL DESIGN FOR WOVEN\n     FABRICS. By C. STEPHENSON, of The Technical College, Bradford,\n     and F. SUDDARDS, of The Yorkshire College, Leeds. With 65\n     full-page plates. _Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d._\n\n     'The book is very ably done, displaying an intimate knowledge\n     of principles, good taste, and the faculty of clear\n     exposition.'--_Yorkshire Post._\n\n\nTEXTBOOKS OF TECHNOLOGY.\n\nEdited by PROFESSORS GARNETT and WERTHEIMER.\n\n     HOW TO MAKE A DRESS. By J. A. E. WOOD. _Illustrated. Cr. 8vo.\n     1s. 6d._\n\n     A text-book for students preparing for the City and Guilds\n     examination, based on the syllabus. The diagrams are numerous.\n\n     'Though primarily intended for students, Miss Wood's dainty\n     little manual may be consulted with advantage by any girls who\n     want to make their own frocks. The directions are simple and\n     clear, and the diagrams very helpful.'--_Literature._\n\n     CARPENTRY AND JOINERY. By F. C. WEBBER. With many Illustrations.\n     _Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'An admirable elementary text-book on the subject.'--_Builder._\n\n     PRACTICAL MECHANICS. By SIDNEY H. WELLS. With 75 Illustrations\n     and Diagrams. _Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n\n\n\nPhilosophy\n\n\n     =L. T. Hobhouse.= THE THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE. By L. T.\n     HOBHOUSE, Fellow of C.C.C., Oxford. _Demy 8vo. 21s._\n\n     'The most important contribution to English philosophy\n     since the publication of Mr. Bradley's \"Appearance and\n     Reality.\"'--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n     'A brilliantly written volume.'--_Times._\n\n     =W. H. Fairbrother.= THE PHILOSOPHY OF T. H. GREEN. By W.\n     H. FAIRBROTHER, M.A. _Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'In every way an admirable book.'--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n     =F. W. Bussell.= THE SCHOOL OF PLATO. By F. W. BUSSELL,\n     D.D., Fellow of Brasenose College, Oxford. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._\n\n     'A clever and stimulating book.'--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     =F. S. Granger.= THE WORSHIP OF THE ROMANS. By F. S.\n     GRANGER, M.A., Litt.D. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     A scholarly analysis of the religious ceremonies, beliefs, and\n     superstitions of ancient Rome, conducted in the new light of\n     comparative anthropology.'--_Times._\n\n\n\n\nTheology\n\n\n     =S. R. Driver.= SERMONS ON SUBJECTS CONNECTED WITH THE OLD\n     TESTAMENT. By S. R. DRIVER, D.D., Canon of Christ Church, Regius\n     Professor of Hebrew in the University of Oxford. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A welcome companion to the author's famous\n     \"Introduction.\"'--_Guardian._\n\n     =T. K. Cheyne.= FOUNDERS OF OLD TESTAMENT CRITICISM. By T.\n     K. CHEYNE, D.D., Oriel Professor at Oxford. _Large Crown 8vo.\n     7s. 6d._\n\n     A historical sketch of O. T. Criticism.\n\n     'A very learned and instructive work.'--_Times._\n\n     =H. Rashdall.= DOCTRINE AND DEVELOPMENT. By HASTINGS\n     RASHDALL, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of New College, Oxford. _Cr.\n     8vo. 6s._\n\n     'An attempt to translate into the language of modern\n     thought some of the leading ideas of Christian Theology and\n     Ethics.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'A very interesting attempt to restate some of the principal\n     doctrines of Christianity, in which Mr. Rashdall appears to\n     us to have achieved a high measure of success. He is often\n     learned, almost always sympathetic, and always singularly\n     lucid.--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     =H. H. Henson.= APOSTOLIC CHRISTIANITY: As Illustrated by\n     the Epistles of St. Paul to the Corinthians. By H. H. HENSON,\n     M.A., Fellow of All Souls', Oxford. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A worthy contribution towards same solution of the great\n     religious problems of the present day.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     =H. H. Henson.= DISCIPLINE AND LAW. By H. HENSLEY HENSON,\n     B.D., Fellow of All Souls', Oxford. _Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n     'An admirable little volume of Lent addresses.'--_Guardian._\n\n     =H. H. Henson.= LIGHT AND LEAVEN: HISTORICAL AND SOCIAL\n     SERMONS. By H. H. HENSON, M.A. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'They are always reasonable as well as vigorous.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     =W. H. Bennett.= A PRIMER OF THE BIBLE. By W. H. BENNETT.\n     _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n     'The work of an honest, fearless, and sound critic, and\n     an excellent guide in a small compass to the books of the\n     Bible.'--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     =C. H. Prior.= CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. Edited by C. H. PRIOR,\n     M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Pembroke College. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     A volume of sermons preached before the University of Cambridge\n     by various preachers, including the late Archbishop of\n     Canterbury and Bishop Westcott.\n\n     =William Harrison.= CLOVELLY SERMONS. By WILLIAM HARRISON,\n     M.A., late Rector of Clovelly. With a Preface by 'LUCAS MALET.'\n     _Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     A volume of Sermons by a son-in-law of Charles Kingsley.\n\n     =Cecilia Robinson.= THE MINISTRY OF DEACONESSES. By\n     Deaconness CECILIA ROBINSON. With an Introduction by the Lord\n     Bishop of Winchester. _Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'A learned and interesting book, combining with no ordinary\n     skill the authority of learned research with the practical\n     utility of a descriptive manual.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     =E. B. Layard.= RELIGION IN BOYHOOD. Notes on the Religious\n     Training of Boys. By E. B. LAYARD, M.A. _18mo. 1s._\n\n     =W. Yorke Fausset.= THE _DE CATECHIZANDIS RUDIBUS_ OF ST.\n     AUGUSTINE. Edited, with Introduction, Notes, etc., by W. YORKE\n     FAUSSET, M.A. _Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     An edition of a Treatise on the Essentials of Christian\n     Doctrine, and the best methods of impressing them on candidates\n     for baptism.\n\n     =F. Weston.= THE HOLY SACRIFICE. By F. WESTON, M.A., Curate\n     of St. Matthew's, Westminster. _Pott 8vo. 6d. net._\n\n     A small volume of devotions at the Holy Communion, especially\n     adapted to the needs of servers and those who do not\n     communicate.\n\n     =\u00c0 Kempis.= THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. By THOMAS \u00c0 KEMPIS.\n     With an Introduction by DEAN FARRAR. Illustrated by C. M. GERE,\n     and printed in black and red. _Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo.\n     Buckram. 3s. 6d. Padded morocco, 5s._\n\n     'Amongst all the innumerable English editions of the\n     \"Imitation,\" there can have been few which were prettier than\n     this one, printed in strong and handsome type, with all the\n     glory of red initials.'--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n     =J. Keble.= THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. By JOHN KEBLE. With an\n     Introduction and Notes by W. LOCK, D.D., Warden of Keble\n     College, Ireland Professor at Oxford. Illus. by R. ANNING BELL.\n     _Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. Buckram. 3s. 6d. Padded morocco._ 5s.\n\n     'The present edition is annotated with all the care and insight\n     to be expected from Mr. Lock. The progress and circumstances\n     of its composition are detailed in the Introduction. There is\n     an interesting Appendix on the MSS. of the \"Christian Year,\"\n     and another giving the order in which the poems were written.\n     A \"Short Analysis of the Thought\" is prefixed to each, and any\n     difficulty in the text is explained in a note.'--_Guardian._\n\n\nHandbooks of Theology.\n\nGeneral Editor, A. ROBERTSON, D.D., Principal of King's College,\nLondon.\n\n     THE XXXIX. ARTICLES OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Edited with an\n     Introduction by E. C. S. GIBSON, D.D., Vicar of Leeds, late\n     Principal of Wells Theological College. _Second and Cheaper\n     Edition in One Volume. Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d._\n\n     'Dr. Gibson is a master of clear and orderly exposition. And he\n     has in a high degree a quality very necessary, but rarely found,\n     in commentators on this topic, that of absolute fairness. His\n     book is pre-eminently honest.'--_Times._\n\n     'We welcome with the utmost satisfaction a new, cheaper, and\n     more convenient edition of Dr. Gibson's book. It was greatly\n     wanted. Dr. Gibson has given theological students just what they\n     want, and we should like to think that it was in the hands of\n     every candidate for orders.'--_Guardian._\n\n     AN INTRODUCTION TO THE HISTORY OF RELIGION. By F. B. JEVONS,\n     M.A., Litt. D., Principal of Bishop Hatfield's Hall. _Demy 8vo.\n     10s. 6d._\n\n     'Dr. Jevons has written a notable work, which we can strongly\n     recommend to the serious attention of theologians and\n     anthropologists.'--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     'The merit of this book lies in the penetration, the singular\n     acuteness and force of the author's judgment. He is at\n     once critical and luminous, at once just and suggestive. A\n     comprehensive and thorough book.'--_Birmingham Post._\n\n     THE DOCTRINE OF THE INCARNATION. By R. L. OTTLEY, M.A., late\n     fellow of Magdalen College, Oxon., and Principal of Pusey House.\n     _In Two Volumes. Demy 8vo. 15s._\n\n     'Learned and reverent: lucid and well arranged.'--_Record._\n\n     'A clear and remarkably full account of the main currents\n     of speculation. Scholarly precision ... genuine tolerance\n     ... intense interest in his subject--are Mr. Ottley's\n     merits.'--_Guardian._\n\n\nThe Churchman's Library.\n\nEdited by J. H. BURN, B.D.\n\n     THE BEGINNINGS OF ENGLISH CHRISTIANITY. By W. E. COLLINS, M.A.,\n     Professor of Ecclesiastical History at King's College, London.\n     With Map. _Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     An investigation in detail, based upon original authorities, of\n     the beginnings of the English Church, with a careful account of\n     earlier Celtic Christianity.\n\n     'An excellent example of thorough and fresh historical\n     work.'--_Guardian._\n\n     SOME NEW TESTAMENT PROBLEMS. By ARTHUR WRIGHT, Fellow of Queen's\n     College, Cambridge. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Bold and outspoken; earnest and reverent.'--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n     THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN HERE AND HEREAFTER. By CANON WINTERBOTHAM,\n     M.A., B.Sc., LL.B. _Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'A most able book, at once exceedingly thoughtful and richly\n     suggestive.'--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n\nThe Library of Devotion\n\n_Pott 8vo, cloth, 2s.; leather, 2s. 6d. net._\n\n     'This series is excellent.'--THE BISHOP OF LONDON.\n\n     'A very delightful edition.'--THE BISHOP OF BATH AND WELLS.\n\n     'Well worth the attention of the Clergy.'--THE BISHOP OF\n     LICHFIELD.\n\n     'The new \"Library of Devotion\" is excellent.'--THE BISHOP OF\n     PETERBOROUGH.\n\n     'Charming.'--_Record._\n\n     'Delightful.'--_Church Bells._\n\n     THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE. Newly Translated, with an\n     Introduction and Notes, by C. BIGG, D.D., late Student of Christ\n     Church. _Second Edition._\n\n     'The translation is an excellent piece of English, and the\n     introduction is a masterly exposition. We augur well of a series\n     which begins so satisfactorily.'--_Times._\n\n     THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. By JOHN KEBLE. With Introduction and Notes\n     by WALTER LOCK, D.D., Warden of Keble College, Ireland Professor\n     at Oxford.\n\n     'The volume is very prettily bound and printed, and may fairly\n     claim to be an advance on any previous editions.'--_Guardian._\n\n     THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. A Revised Translation, with an\n     Introduction, by C. BIGG, D.D., late Student of Christ Church.\n\n     A practically new translation of this book, which the reader\n     has, almost for the first time, exactly in the shape in which it\n     left the hands of the author.\n\n     'The text is at once scholarly in its faithful reproduction in\n     English of the sonorous Church Latin in which the original is\n     composed, and popular.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'A beautiful and scholarly production.'--_Speaker._\n\n     'A nearer approach to the original than has yet existed in\n     English.'--_Academy._\n\n     A BOOK OF DEVOTIONS. By J. W. STANBRIDGE, M.A., Rector of\n     Bainton, Canon of York, and sometime Fellow of St. John's\n     College, Oxford.\n\n     'It is probably the best book of its kind. It deserves high\n     commendation.'--_Church Gazette._\n\n\nLeaders of Religion\n\nEdited by H.C. BEECHING, M.A. _With Portraits, Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d._\n\nA series of short biographies of the most prominent leaders of\nreligious life and thought of all ages and countries.\n\n     The following are ready--\n\n     CARDINAL NEWMAN. By R. H. HUTTON.\n\n     JOHN WESLEY. By J. H. OVERTON, M.A.\n\n     BISHOP WILBERFORCE. By G. W. DANIELL, M.A.\n\n     CARDINAL MANNING. By A. W. HUTTON, M.A.\n\n     CHARLES SIMEON. By H. C. G. MOULE, D.D.\n\n     JOHN KEBLE. By WALTER LOCK, D.D.\n\n     THOMAS CHALMERS. By Mrs. OLIPHANT.\n\n     LANCELOT ANDREWES. By R. L. OTTLEY, M.A.\n\n     AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY. By E. L. CUTTS, D.D.\n\n     WILLIAM LAUD. By W. H. HUTTON, B.D.\n\n     JOHN KNOX. By F. MACCUNN.\n\n     JOHN HOWE. By R. F. HORTON, D.D.\n\n     BISHOP KEN. By F. A. CLARKE, M.A.\n\n     GEORGE FOX, THE QUAKER. By T. HODGKIN, D.C.L.\n\n     JOHN DONNE. By AUGUSTUS JESSOPP, D.D.\n\n     THOMAS CRANMER. By A. J. MASON.\n\nOther volumes will be announced in due course.\n\n\n\n\nFiction\n\n=SIX SHILLING NOVELS=\n\n\n=Marie Corelli's Novels=\n\n=_Large crown 8vo. 6s. each._=\n\n     A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS. _Eighteenth Edition._\n\n     VENDETTA. _Fourteenth Edition._\n\n     THELMA. _Twentieth Edition._\n\n     ARDATH: THE STORY OF A DEAD SELF. _Eleventh Edition._\n\n     THE SOUL OF LILITH. _Ninth Edition._\n\n     WORMWOOD. _Eighth Edition._\n\n     BARABBAS: A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY. _Thirty-third Edition._\n\n     'The tender reverence of the treatment and the imaginative\n     beauty of the writing have reconciled us to the daring of the\n     conception, and the conviction is forced on us that even so\n     exalted a subject cannot be made too familiar to us, provided\n     it be presented in the true spirit of Christian faith. The\n     amplifications of the Scripture narrative are often conceived\n     with high poetic insight, and this \"Dream of the World's\n     Tragedy\" is a lofty and not inadequate paraphrase of the supreme\n     climax of the inspired narrative.'--_Dublin Review._\n\n     THE SORROWS OF SATAN. _Thirty-ninth Edition._\n\n     'A very powerful piece of work.... The conception is\n     magnificent, and is likely to win an abiding place within the\n     memory of man.... The author has immense command of language,\n     and a limitless audacity.... This interesting and remarkable\n     romance will live long after much of the ephemeral literature of\n     the day is forgotten.... A literary phenomenon ... novel, and\n     even sublime.'--W. T. STEAD in the _Review of Reviews_.\n\n\n=Anthony Hope's Novels=\n\n_Crown 8vo. 6s. each._\n\n     THE GOD IN THE CAR. _Eighth Edition._\n\n     'A very remarkable book, deserving of critical analysis\n     impossible within our limit; brilliant, but not superficial;\n     well considered, but not elaborated; constructed with the\n     proverbial art that conceals, but yet allows itself to be\n     enjoyed by readers to whom fine literary method is a keen\n     pleasure.'--_The World._\n\n     A CHANGE OF AIR. _Fifth Edition._\n\n     'A graceful, vivacious comedy, true to human nature. The\n     characters are traced with a masterly hand.'--_Times._\n\n     A MAN OF MARK. _Fourth Edition._\n\n     'Of all Mr. Hope's books, \"A Man of Mark\" is the one which best\n     compares with \"The Prisoner of Zenda.\"'--_National Observer._\n\n     THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT ANTONIO. _Third Edition._\n\n     'It is a perfectly enchanting story of love and chivalry, and\n     pure romance. The Count is the most constant, desperate, and\n     modest and tender of lovers, a peerless gentleman, an intrepid\n     fighter, a faithful friend, and a magnanimous foe.'--_Guardian._\n\n     PHROSO. Illustrated by H. R. MILLAR. _Third Edition._\n\n     'The tale is thoroughly fresh, quick with vitality, stirring the\n     blood.'--_St. James's Gazette._\n\n     'A story of adventure, every page of which is palpitating with\n     action.'--_Speaker._\n\n     'From cover to cover \"Phroso\" not only engages the attention,\n     but carries the reader in little whirls of delight from\n     adventure to adventure.'--_Academy._\n\n     SIMON DALE. Illustrated. _Third Edition._\n\n     '\"Simon Dale\" is one of the best historical romances that have\n     been written for a long while.'--_St. James's Gazette._\n\n     'A brilliant novel. The story is rapid and most\n     excellently told. As for the hero, he is a perfect hero of\n     romance.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     'There is searching analysis of human nature, with a most\n     ingeniously constructed plot. Mr. Hope has drawn the contrasts\n     of his women with marvellous subtlety and delicacy.'--_Times._\n\n\n=Gilbert Parker's Novels=\n\n_Crown 8vo. 6s. each._\n\n     PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE. _Fifth Edition._\n\n     'Stories happily conceived and finely executed. There is\n     strength and genius in Mr. Parker's style.'--_Daily Telegraph._\n\n     MRS. FALCHION. _Fourth Edition._\n\n     'A splendid study of character.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     'But little behind anything that has been done by any writer of\n     our time.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     'A very striking and admirable novel.'--_St. James's Gazette._\n\n     THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE.\n\n     'The plot is original and one difficult to work out; but Mr.\n     Parker has done it with great skill and delicacy. The reader who\n     is not interested in this original, fresh, and well-told tale\n     must be a dull person indeed.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. Illustrated. _Sixth Edition._\n\n     'A rousing and dramatic tale. A book like this, in which swords\n     flash, great surprises are undertaken, and daring deeds done, in\n     which men and women live and love in the old passionate way, is\n     a joy inexpressible.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC: The Story of a Lost Napoleon.\n     _Fourth Edition._\n\n     'Here we find romance--real, breathing, living romance. The\n     character of Valmond is drawn unerringly. The book must\n     be read, we may say re-read, for any one thoroughly to\n     appreciate Mr. Parker's delicate touch and innate sympathy with\n     humanity.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH: The Last Adventures of 'Pretty\n     Pierre.' _Second Edition._\n\n     'The present book is full of fine and moving stories of the\n     great North, and it will add to Mr. Parker's already high\n     reputation.'--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n     THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY. Illustrated. _Ninth Edition._\n\n     'The best thing he has done; one of the best things that any one\n     has done lately.'--_St. James's Gazette._\n\n     'Mr. Parker seems to become stronger and easier with every\n     serious novel that he attempts. He shows the matured power which\n     his former novels have led us to expect, and has produced a\n     really fine historical novel.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     'A great book.'--_Black and White._\n\n     'One of the strongest stories of historical interest and\n     adventure that we have read for many a day.... A notable and\n     successful book.'--_Speaker._\n\n     THE POMP OF THE LAVILETTES. _Second Edition. 3s. 6d._\n\n     'Living, breathing romance, genuine and unforced pathos, and a\n     deeper and more subtle knowledge of human nature than Mr. Parker\n     has ever displayed before. It is, in a word, the work of a true\n     artist.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     THE BATTLE OF THE STRONG: a Romance of Two Kingdoms.\n     Illustrated. _Fourth Edition._\n\n     'Mr. Gilbert Parker has a master's hand in weaving the threads\n     of romantic fiction. There is scarcely a single character which\n     does not convince us.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     'Such a splendid story, so splendidly told, will be read\n     with avidity, and will add new honour even to Mr. Parker's\n     reputation.'--_St. James's Gazette._\n\n     'No one who takes a pleasure in literature but will read Mr.\n     Gilbert Parker's latest romance with keen enjoyment. The\n     mere writing is so good as to be a delight in itself, apart\n     altogether from the interest of the tale.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     'Nothing more vigorous or more human has come from Mr. Gilbert\n     Parker than this novel. It has all the graphic power of his\n     last book, with truer feeling for the romance, both of human\n     life and wild nature. There is no character without its unique\n     and picturesque interest. Mr. Parker's style, especially his\n     descriptive style, has in this book, perhaps even more than\n     elsewhere, aptness and vitality.'--_Literature._\n\n\n=S. Baring Gould's Novels=\n\n_Crown 8vo. 6s. each._\n\n     'To say that a book is by the author of \"Mehalah\" is to imply\n     that it contains a story cast on strong lines, containing\n     dramatic possibilities, vivid and sympathetic descriptions of\n     Nature, and a wealth of ingenious imagery.'--_Speaker._\n\n     'That whatever Mr. Baring Gould writes is well worth reading,\n     is a conclusion that may be very generally accepted. His\n     views of life are fresh and vigorous, his language pointed\n     and characteristic, the incidents of which he makes use are\n     striking and original, his characters are life-like, and though\n     somewhat exceptional people, are drawn and coloured with\n     artistic force. Add to this that his descriptions of scenes and\n     scenery are painted with the loving eyes and skilled hands of\n     a master of his art, that he is always fresh and never dull,\n     and it is no wonder that readers have gained confidence in his\n     power of amusing and satisfying them, and that year by year his\n     popularity widens.'--_Court Circular._\n\n     ARMINELL. _Fourth Edition._\n\n     URITH. _Fifth Edition._\n\n     IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA. _Sixth Edition._\n\n     MRS. CURGENVEN OF CURGENVEN. _Fourth Edition._\n\n     CHEAP JACK ZITA. _Fourth Edition._\n\n     THE QUEEN OF LOVE. _Fourth Edition._\n\n     MARGERY OF QUETHER. _Third Edition._\n\n     JACQUETTA. _Third Edition._\n\n     KITTY ALONE. _Fifth Edition._\n\n     NO\u00c9MI. Illustrated. _Third Edition._\n\n     THE BROOM-SQUIRE. Illustrated. _Fourth Edition._\n\n     THE PENNYCOMEQUICKS. _Third Edition._\n\n     DARTMOOR IDYLLS.\n\n     GUAVAS THE TINNER. Illustrated. _Second Edition._\n\n     BLADYS. Illustrated. _Second Edition._\n\n     DOMITIA. Illustrated. _Second Edition._\n\n     'There is a wealth of incident, and a lively picture of Rome in\n     the early days of the Empire.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'Mr. Baring Gould, by virtue of his lurid imagination, has\n     given a forcible picture of the horrors and heroism of Imperial\n     Rome.'--_Spectator._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     =Conan Doyle.= ROUND THE RED LAMP. By A. CONAN DOYLE.\n     _Sixth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'The book is far and away the best view that has been vouchsafed\n     us behind the scenes of the consulting-room.'--_Illustrated\n     London News._\n\n     =Stanley Weyman.= UNDER THE RED ROBE. By STANLEY WEYMAN,\n     Author of 'A Gentleman of France.' With Illustrations by R. C.\n     WOODVILLE. _Fourteenth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A book of which we have read every word for the sheer pleasure\n     of reading, and which we put down with a pang.'--_Westminster\n     Gazette._\n\n     'Every one who reads books at all must read this thrilling\n     romance, from the first page of which to the last the breathless\n     reader is haled along. An inspiration of manliness and\n     courage.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     =Lucas Malet.= THE WAGES OF SIN. By LUCAS MALET.\n     _Thirteenth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =Lucas Malet.= THE CARISSIMA. By LUCAS MALET, Author of\n     'The Wages of Sin,' etc. _Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =George Gissing.= THE TOWN TRAVELLER. By GEORGE GISSING,\n     Author of 'Demos,' 'In the Year of Jubilee,' etc. _Second\n     Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Not only a story with a happy ending, but one which is in the\n     main suffused with cheerfulness, and occasionally mounts to the\n     plane of positive hilarity.'--_Spectator._\n\n     'An admirable novel.'--_Truth._\n\n     'It is a bright and witty book above all things. Polly Sparkes\n     is a splendid bit of work. A book which contains Polly, the\n     glorious row in the lodging-house, and such a brisk plot, moving\n     so smartly, lightly, and easily, will not detract from Mr.\n     Gissing's reputation.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     'The spirit of Dickens is in it; his delight in good nature, his\n     understanding of the feelings.'--_Bookman._\n\n     =S. R. Crockett.= LOCHINVAR. By S. R. CROCKETT, Author of\n     'The Raiders,' etc. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Full of gallantry and pathos, of the clash of arms, and\n     brightened by episodes of humour and love....'--_Westminster\n     Gazette._\n\n     =S. R. Crockett.= THE STANDARD BEARER. By S. R. CROCKETT.\n     _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A delightful tale in his best style.'--_Speaker._\n\n     'Mr. Crockett at his best.'--_Literature._\n\n     'Enjoyable and of absorbing interest.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     =Arthur Morrison.= TALES OF MEAN STREETS. By ARTHUR\n     MORRISON. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Told with consummate art and extraordinary detail. In the true\n     humanity of the book lies its justification, the permanence of\n     its interest, and its indubitable triumph.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     'A great book. The author's method is amazingly effective, and\n     produces a thrilling sense of reality. The writer lays upon us\n     a master hand. The book is simply appalling and irresistible in\n     its interest. It is humorous also; without humour it would not\n     make the mark it is certain to make.'--_World._\n\n     =Arthur Morrison.= A CHILD OF THE JAGO. By ARTHUR MORRISON.\n     _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'The book is a masterpiece.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     'Told with great vigour and powerful simplicity.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =Mrs. Clifford.= A FLASH OF SUMMER. By Mrs. W. K. CLIFFORD,\n     Author of 'Aunt Anne,' etc. _Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'The story is a very beautiful one, exquisitely\n     told.'--_Speaker._\n\n     =Emily Lawless.= HURRISH. By the Honble. EMILY LAWLESS,\n     Author of 'Maelcho,' etc. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =Emily Lawless.= MAELCHO: a Sixteenth Century Romance. By\n     the Honble. EMILY LAWLESS. _Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A really great book.'--_Spectator._\n\n     'There is no keener pleasure in life than the recognition of\n     genius. A piece of work of the first order, which we do not\n     hesitate to describe as one of the most remarkable literary\n     achievements of this generation.'--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     =Emily Lawless.= TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES. By the Honble.\n     EMILY LAWLESS. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A very charming little volume. A book which cannot be read\n     without pleasure and profit, written in excellent English, full\n     of delicate spirit, and a keen appreciation of nature, human and\n     inanimate.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     =Jane Barlow.= A CREEL OF IRISH STORIES. By JANE BARLOW,\n     Author of 'Irish Idylls.' _Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Vivid and singularly real.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     =Jane Barlow.= FROM THE EAST UNTO THE WEST. By JANE BARLOW,\n     Author of 'Irish Idylls.' etc. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'The genial humour and never-failing sympathy recommend the book\n     to those who like healthy fiction.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     =J. H. Findlater.= THE GREEN GRAVES OF BALGOWRIE. By JANE\n     H. FINDLATER. _Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A powerful and vivid story.'--_Standard._\n\n     'A beautiful story, sad and strange as truth itself.'--_Vanity\n     Fair._\n\n     'A very charming and pathetic tale.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     'A singularly original, clever, and beautiful\n     story.'--_Guardian._\n\n     'Reveals to us a new writer of undoubted faculty and reserve\n     force.'--_Spectator._\n\n     'An exquisite idyll, delicate, affecting, and\n     beautiful.'--_Black and White._\n\n     =J. H. Findlater.= A DAUGHTER OF STRIFE. By JANE HELEN\n     FINDLATER. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A story of strong human interest.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'Her thought has solidity and maturity.'--_Daily Mail._\n\n     =Mary Findlater.= OVER THE HILLS. By MARY FINDLATER.\n     _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A strong and fascinating piece of work.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'A charming romance, and full of incident. The book is fresh and\n     strong.'--_Speaker._\n\n     'Will make the author's name loved in many a\n     household.'--_Literary World._\n\n     'A strong and wise book of deep insight and unflinching\n     truth.'--_Birmingham Post._\n\n     =Alfred Ollivant.= OWD BOB, THE GREY DOG OF KENMUIR. By\n     ALFRED OLLIVANT. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Of breathless interest.'--_British Weekly._\n\n     'Weird, thrilling, strikingly graphic.'--_Punch._\n\n     'This fine romance of dogs and men.'--_Outlook._\n\n     'We admire this book extremely for its originality, for its\n     virile and expressive English, above all for its grit. The book\n     is to our mind the most powerful of its class that we have\n     read. It is one to read with admiration and to praise with\n     enthusiasm.'--_Bookman._\n\n     'It is a fine, open-air, blood-stirring book, to be enjoyed by\n     every man and woman to whom a dog is dear.'--_Literature._\n\n     =B. M. Croker.= PEGGY OF THE BARTONS. By B. M. CROKER,\n     Author of 'Diana Barrington.' _Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Mrs. Croker excels in the admirably simple, easy, and direct\n     flow of her narrative, the briskness of her dialogue, and the\n     geniality of her portraiture.'--_Spectator._\n\n     'All the characters, indeed, are drawn with clearness and\n     certainty; and it would be hard to name any quality essential to\n     first-class work which is lacking from this book.'--_Saturday\n     Review._\n\n     =H. G. Wells.= THE STOLEN BACILLUS, and other Stories. By\n     H. G. WELLS. _Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'They are the impressions of a very striking imagination, which,\n     it would seem, has a great deal within its reach.'--_Saturday\n     Review._\n\n     =H. G. Wells.= THE PLATTNER STORY and Others. By H. G.\n     WELLS. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Weird and mysterious, they seem to hold the reader as by a\n     magic spell.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'No volume has appeared for a long time so likely to give equal\n     pleasure to the simplest reader and to the most fastidious\n     critic.'--_Academy._\n\n     =Sara Jeanette Duncan.= A VOYAGE OF CONSOLATION. By SARA\n     JEANETTE DUNCAN, Author of 'An American Girl in London.'\n     Illustrated. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Humour, pure and spontaneous and irresistible.'--_Daily Mail._\n\n     'A most delightfully bright book.'--_Daily Telegraph._\n\n     'Eminently amusing and entertaining.'--_Outlook._\n\n     'The dialogue is full of wit.'--_Globe._\n\n     'Laughter lurks in every page.'--_Daily News._\n\n     =C. F. Keary.= THE JOURNALIST. By C. F. KEARY. _Cr. 8vo.\n     6s._\n\n     'An excellently written story, told with a sobriety and\n     restrained force which are worthy of all praise.'--_Standard._\n\n     'It is rare indeed to find such poetical sympathy with Nature\n     joined to close study of character and singularly truthful\n     dialogue: but then \"The Journalist\" is altogether a rare\n     book.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     'Full of intellectual vigour.'--_St. James's Gazette._\n\n     =E. F. Benson.= DODO: A DETAIL OF THE DAY. By E. F. BENSON.\n     _Sixteenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A delightfully witty sketch of society.'--_Spectator._\n\n     'A perpetual feast of epigram and paradox.'--_Speaker._\n\n     =E. F. Benson.= THE VINTAGE. By E. F. BENSON. Author of\n     'Dodo.' Illustrated by G. P. JACOMB-HOOD. _Third Edition. Crown\n     8vo. 6s._\n\n     'An excellent piece of romantic literature; a very graceful and\n     moving story. We are struck with the close observation of life\n     in Greece.'--_Saturday Review._\n\n     'Full of fire, earnestness, and beauty.'--_The World._\n\n     'An original and vigorous historical romance.'--_Morning Post._\n\n     =Mrs. Oliphant.= SIR ROBERT'S FORTUNE. By Mrs. OLIPHANT.\n     _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Full of her own peculiar charm of style and\n     character-painting.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     =Mrs. Oliphant.= THE TWO MARYS. By Mrs. OLIPHANT. _Second\n     Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =Mrs. Oliphant.= THE LADY'S WALK. By Mrs. OLIPHANT. _Second\n     Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A story of exquisite tenderness, of most delicate\n     fancy.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     =W. E. Norris.= MATTHEW AUSTIN. By W. E. NORRIS, Author of\n     'Mademoiselle de Mersac,' etc. _Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'An intellectually satisfactory and morally bracing\n     novel.'--_Daily Telegraph._\n\n     =W. E. Norris.= HIS GRACE. By W. E. NORRIS. _Third Edition.\n     Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Mr. Norris has drawn a really fine character in the\n     Duke.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =W. E. Norris.= THE DESPOTIC LADY AND OTHERS. By W. E.\n     NORRIS. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A budget of good fiction of which no one will\n     tire.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     =W. E. Norris.= CLARISSA FURIOSA. By W. E. NORRIS. _Cr.\n     8vo. 6s._\n\n     'As a story it is admirable, as a _jeu d'esprit_ it is capital,\n     as a lay sermon studded with gems of wit and wisdom it is a\n     model.'--_The World._\n\n     =W. Clark Russell.= MY DANISH SWEETHEART. By W. CLARK\n     RUSSELL. _Illustrated. Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =Robert Barr.= IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS. By ROBERT BARR.\n     _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A book which has abundantly satisfied us by its capital\n     humour.'--_Daily Chronicle._\n\n     'Mr. Barr has achieved a triumph.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     =Robert Barr.= THE MUTABLE MANY. By ROBERT BARR, Author of\n     'In the Midst of Alarms,' 'A Woman Intervenes,' etc. _Second\n     Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Very much the best novel that Mr. Barr has yet given us. There\n     is much insight in it, and much excellent humour.'--_Daily\n     Chronicle._\n\n     =Andrew Balfour.= BY STROKE OF SWORD. By ANDREW BALFOUR.\n     Illustrated by W. CUBITT COOKE. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A banquet of good things.'--_Academy._\n\n     'A recital of thrilling interest, told with unflagging\n     vigour.'--_Globe._\n\n     'An unusually excellent example of a semi-historic\n     romance.'--_World._\n\n     =Andrew Balfour.= TO ARMS! By ANDREW BALFOUR, Author of 'By\n     Stroke of Sword.' Illustrated. _Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'The marvellous perils through which Allan passes are told in\n     powerful and lively fashion.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     'A fine story finely told.'--_Vanity Fair._\n\n     =J. Maclaren Cobban.= THE KING OF ANDAMAN: A Saviour of\n     Society. By J. MACLAREN COBBAN. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'An unquestionably interesting book. It contains one character,\n     at least, who has in him the root of immortality.'--_Pall Mall\n     Gazette._\n\n     =J. Maclaren Cobban.= WILT THOU HAVE THIS WOMAN? By J.\n     MACLAREN COBBAN, Author of 'The King of Andaman.' _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =J. Maclaren Cobban.= THE ANGEL OF THE COVENANT. By J.\n     MACLAREN COBBAN. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Mr. Cobban has achieved a work of such rare distinction that\n     there is nothing comparable with it in recent Scottish romance.\n     It is a great historical picture, in which fact and fancy are\n     welded together in a fine realisation of the spirit of the\n     times.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._ =R. N. Stephens.= AN ENEMY\n     TO THE KING. By R. N. STEPHENS. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'It is full of movement, and the movement is always\n     buoyant.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'A stirring story with plenty of movement.'--_Black and White._\n\n     =M. E. Francis.= MISS ERIN. By M. E. FRANCIS, Author of 'In\n     a Northern Village.' _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A clever and charming story.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'Perfectly delightful.'--_Daily Mail._\n\n     'An excellently fancied love tale.--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =Robert Hichens.= BYEWAYS. By ROBERT HITCHINS. Author of\n     'Flames, etc.' _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A very high artistic instinct and striking command of language\n     raise Mr. Hichens' work far above the ruck.\"--_Pall Mall\n     Gazette._\n\n     'The work is undeniably that of a man of striking\n     imagination.'--_Daily News._\n\n     =Percy White.= A PASSIONATE PILGRIM. By PERCY WHITE, Author\n     of 'Mr. Bailey-Martin.' _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A work which it is not hyperbole to describe as of rare\n     excellence.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     'The clever book of a shrewd and clever author.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =Mrs. Alan Brodrick.= ANANIAS. By the Hon. Mrs. ALAN\n     BRODRICK. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =Mrs. Orpen.= CORRAGEEN IN '98. By Mrs. ORPEN. _Cr. 8vo.\n     6s._\n\n     'An admirable piece of literary work.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     'A vivid picture of the terrible times of 1798.'--_Lloyd's._\n\n     'An able story, well worth reading, and evidently the work of a\n     careful and thoughtful writer.'--_Scotsman._\n\n     =J. Keighley Snowden.= THE PLUNDER PIT. By J. KEIGHLEY\n     SNOWDEN. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'As original in style and plot as in its title.--_Truth._\n\n     =W. Pett Ridge.= SECRETARY TO BAYNE, M.P. By W. PETT RIDGE.\n     _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Sparkling, vivacious, adventurous.--_St. James's Gazette._\n\n     'Ingenious, amusing, and especially smart.--_World._\n\n     =J. S. Fletcher.= THE BUILDERS. By J. S. FLETCHER. Author\n     of 'When Charles I. was King.' _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Replete with delightful descriptions.'--_Vanity Fair._\n\n     'The background of country life has never been sketched more\n     realistically.'--_World._\n\n     =J. B. Burton.= IN THE DAY OF ADVERSITY. By J.\n     BLOUNDELLE-BURTON. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Unusually interesting and full of highly dramatic\n     situations.--_Guardian._\n\n     =J. B. Burton.= DENOUNCED. By J. BLOUNDELLE-BURTON. _Second\n     Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A fine, manly, spirited piece of work.'--_World._\n\n     =J. B. Burton.= THE CLASH OF ARMS. By J. BLOUNDELLE-BURTON.\n     _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A brave story--brave in deed, brave in word, brave in\n     thought.'--_St. James's Gazette._\n\n     =J. B. Burton.= ACROSS THE SALT SEAS. BY J.\n     BLOUNDELLE-BURTON. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'The very essence of the true romantic spirit.'--_Truth._\n\n     'An ingenious and exciting story.'--_Manchester Guardian._\n\n     'Singularly well written.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =R. Murray Gilchrist.= WILLOW-BRAKE. By R. MURRAY\n     GILCHRIST. _Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Full of the fragrance of village life.'--_Academy._\n\n     'Good and interesting throughout.'--_Guardian._\n\n     'It is a singularly pleasing and eminently wholesome\n     volume, with a decidedly charming note of pathos at various\n     points.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =W. C. Scully.= THE WHITE HECATOMB. By W. C. SCULLY, Author\n     of 'Kafir Stories.' _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Reveals a marvellously intimate understanding of the Kaffir\n     mind.'--_African Critic._\n\n     =W. C. Scully.= BETWEEN SUN AND SAND. By W. C. SCULLY,\n     Author of 'The White Hecatomb.' _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'The reader will find the interest of absolute novelty.'--_The\n     Graphic._\n\n     'The reader passes at once into the very atmosphere of the\n     African desert: the inexpressible space and stillness swallow\n     him up, and there is no world for him but that immeasurable\n     waste.'--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     =Victor Waite.= CROSS TRAILS. By VICTOR WAITE. Illustrated.\n     _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'Every page is enthralling.'--_Academy._\n\n     'Full of strength and reality.--_Athen\u00e6um._\n\n     'The book is exceedingly powerful.'--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n     =L. B. Walford.= SUCCESSORS TO THE TITLE. By Mrs. WALFORD,\n     Author of 'Mr. Smith,' etc. _Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =Mary Gaunt.= KIRKHAM'S FIND. By MARY GAUNT, Author of 'The\n     Moving Finger.' _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A really charming novel.'--_Standard._\n\n     =Mary Gaunt.= DEADMAN'S. By MARY GAUNT, Author of\n     'Kirkham's Find.' _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A capital Australian story, with excellent local colour, a\n     well-constructed plot, lively incidents, and amusing people....\n     A remarkable novel.'--_World._\n\n     =M. M. Dowie.= GALLIA. By M\u00c9NIE MURIEL DOWIE, Author of 'A\n     Girl in the Karpathians.' _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'The style is generally admirable, the dialogue not seldom\n     brilliant, the situations surprising in their freshness and\n     originality.'--_Saturday Review._\n\n     =M. M. Dowie.= THE CROOK OF THE BOUGH. By M\u00c9NIE MURIEL\n     DOWIE. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'An exceptionally clever and well-written book.'--_Daily\n     Telegraph._\n\n     'An excellent story with shrewd humour and bright writing. The\n     author is delightfully witty.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     'Strong, suggestive, and witty.'--_Daily News._\n\n     =Julian Corbett.= A BUSINESS IN GREAT WATERS. By JULIAN\n     CORBETT. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     =L. Cope Cornford.= CAPTAIN JACOBUS: A ROMANCE OF THE ROAD.\n     By L. COPE CORNFORD. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'An exceptionally good story of adventure and\n     character.'--_World._\n\n     =L. Cope Cornford.= SONS OF ADVERSITY. By L. COPE CORNFORD,\n     Author of 'Captain Jacobus.' _Cr. 8vo. 6s._\n\n     'A very stirring and spirited sketch of the spacious times of\n     Queen Elizabeth.'--_Pall Mall Gazette._\n\n     'Packed with incident.'--_Outlook._\n\n\n=OTHER SIX-SHILLING NOVELS=\n\n_Crown 8vo._\n\n     THE KING OF ALBERIA. By LAURA DAINTREY.\n\n     THE DAUGHTER OF ALOUETTE. By MARY A. OWEN.\n\n     CHILDREN OF THIS WORLD. By ELLEN F. PINSENT.\n\n     AN ELECTRIC SPARK. By G. MANVILLE FENN.\n\n     UNDER SHADOW OF THE MISSION. By L. S. MCCHESNEY.\n\n     THE SPECULATORS. By J. F. BREWER.\n\n     THE SPIRIT OF STORM. By RONALD ROSS.\n\n     THE QUEENSBERRY CUP. By CLIVE P. 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By Mrs. DICKER.\n\n     THE PRODIGALS. By Mrs. OLIPHANT.\n\n     THE SUPPLANTER. By P. NEUMANN.\n\n     A MAN WITH BLACK EYELASHES. By H. A. KENNEDY.\n\n     A HANDFUL OF EXOTICS. By S. GORDON.\n\n     AN ODD EXPERIMENT. By HANNAH LYNCH.\n\n     SCOTTISH BORDER LIFE. By JAMES C. DIBDIN.\n\n\n=HALF-CROWN NOVELS=\n\n_Crown 8vo._\n\n     HOVENDEN, V.C. By F. MABEL ROBINSON.\n\n     THE PLAN OF CAMPAIGN. By F. MABEL ROBINSON.\n\n     MR. BUTLER'S WARD. By F. MABEL ROBINSON.\n\n     ELI'S CHILDREN. By G. MANVILLE FENN.\n\n     A DOUBLE KNOT. By G. MANVILLE FENN.\n\n     DISARMED. By M. BETHAM-EDWARDS.\n\n     A MARRIAGE AT SEA. By W. CLARK RUSSELL.\n\n     IN TENT AND BUNGALOW. By the Author of 'Indian Idylls.'\n\n     MY STEWARDSHIP. By E. M'QUEEN GRAY.\n\n     JACK'S FATHER. By W. E. NORRIS.\n\n     A LOST ILLUSION. By LESLIE KEITH.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n     THE TRUE HISTORY OF JOSHUA DAVIDSON, Christian and Communist. By\n     E. LYNN LYNTON. _Eleventh Edition. Post 8vo. 1s._\n\n\n\n\nBooks for Boys and Girls\n\n\n_A Series of Books by well-known Authors, well illustrated._\n\nTHREE-AND-SIXPENCE EACH\n\n     THE ICELANDER'S SWORD. By S. BARING GOULD.\n\n     TWO LITTLE CHILDREN AND CHING. By EDITH E. CUTHELL.\n\n     TODDLEBEN'S HERO. By M. M. BLAKE.\n\n     ONLY A GUARD-ROOM DOG. By EDITH E. CUTHELL.\n\n     THE DOCTOR OF THE JULIET. By HARRY COLLINGWOOD.\n\n     MASTER ROCKAFELLAR'S VOYAGE. By W. CLARK RUSSELL.\n\n     SYD BELTON: Or, The Boy who would not go to Sea. By G. MANVILLE\n     FENN.\n\n     THE WALLYPUG IN LONDON. By G. E. FARROW.\n\n     ADVENTURES IN WALLYPUG LAND. By G. E. FARROW. _5s._\n\n\n\n\nThe Peacock Library\n\n\n_A Series of Books for Girls by well-known Authors, handsomely\nbound, and well illustrated._\n\n=THREE-AND-SIXPENCE EACH=\n\n     A PINCH OF EXPERIENCE. By L. B. WALFORD.\n\n     THE RED GRANGE. By Mrs. MOLESWORTH.\n\n     THE SECRET OF MADAME DE MONLUC. By the Author of 'Mdle. 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A\n     study of this concise but luminous book cannot fail to give\n     the reader a clear insight into the principal phenomena of\n     our industrial history. The editor and publishers are to be\n     congratulated on this first volume of their venture, and we\n     shall look with expectant interest for the succeeding volumes of\n     the series.'--_University Extension Journal._\n\n     A HISTORY OF ENGLISH POLITICAL ECONOMY. By L. L. PRICE, M.A.,\n     Fellow of Oriel College, Oxon. _Second Edition._\n\n     PROBLEMS OF POVERTY: An Inquiry into the Industrial Conditions\n     of the Poor. By J. A. HOBSON, M.A. _Third Edition._\n\n     VICTORIAN POETS. By A. SHARP.\n\n     THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. By J. E. SYMES, M.A.\n\n     PSYCHOLOGY. By F. S. GRANGER, M.A. _Second Edition._\n\n     THE EVOLUTION OF PLANT LIFE: Lower Forms. By G. MASSEE. _With\n     Illustrations._\n\n     AIR AND WATER. By V. B. LEWES, M.A. _Illustrated._\n\n     THE CHEMISTRY OF LIFE AND HEALTH. By C. W. KIMMINS, M.A.\n     _Illustrated._\n\n     THE MECHANICS OF DAILY LIFE. By V. P. SELLS, M.A. _Illustrated._\n\n     ENGLISH SOCIAL REFORMERS. By H. DE B. GIBBINS, D.Litt., M.A.\n\n     ENGLISH TRADE AND FINANCE IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. By W. A.\n     S. HEWINS, B.A.\n\n     THE CHEMISTRY OF FIRE. The Elementary Principles of Chemistry.\n     By M. M. PATTISON MUIR, M.A. _Illustrated._\n\n     A TEXT-BOOK OF AGRICULTURAL BOTANY. By M. C. POTTER, M.A.,\n     F.L.S. _Illustrated. 3s. 6d._\n\n     THE VAULT OF HEAVEN. A Popular Introduction to Astronomy. By R.\n     A. GREGORY. _With numerous Illustrations._\n\n     METEOROLOGY. The Elements of Weather and Climate. By H. N.\n     DICKSON, F.R.S.E., F.R. Met. Soc. _Illustrated._\n\n     A MANUAL OF ELECTRICAL SCIENCE. By GEORGE J. BURCH, M.A. _With\n     numerous Illustrations. 3s._\n\n     THE EARTH. An Introduction to Physiography. By EVAN SMALL, M.A.\n     _Illustrated._\n\n     INSECT LIFE. By F. W. THEOBALD, M.A. _Illustrated._\n\n     ENGLISH POETRY FROM BLAKE TO BROWNING. By W. M. DIXON, M.A.\n\n     ENGLISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. By E. JENKS, M.A., Professor of Law at\n     University College, Liverpool.\n\n     THE GREEK VIEW OF LIFE. By G. L. DICKINSON, Fellow of King's\n     College, Cambridge. _Second Edition._\n\n\n\n\nSocial Questions of To-day\n\n\nEdited by H. DE B. GIBBINS, D.Litt., M.A.\n\n_Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\nA series of volumes upon those topics of social, economic, and\nindustrial interest that are at the present moment foremost in the\npublic mind. Each volume of the series is written by an author who\nis an acknowledged authority upon the subject with which he deals.\n\n\n_The following Volumes of the Series are ready_:--\n\n     TRADE UNIONISM--NEW AND OLD. By G. HOWELL. _Second Edition._\n\n     THE CO-OPERATIVE MOVEMENT TO-DAY. By G. J. HOLYOAKE. _Second\n     Edition._\n\n     MUTUAL THRIFT. By Rev. J. FROME WILKINSON, M.A.\n\n     PROBLEMS OF POVERTY. By J. A. HOBSON, M.A. _Third Edition._\n\n     THE COMMERCE OF NATIONS. By C. F. BASTABLE, M.A., Professor of\n     Economics at Trinity College, Dublin. _Second Edition._\n\n     THE ALIEN INVASION. By W. H. WILKINS, B.A.\n\n     THE RURAL EXODUS. By P. ANDERSON GRAHAM.\n\n     LAND NATIONALIZATION. By HAROLD COX, B.A.\n\n     A SHORTER WORKING DAY. By H. DE B. GIBBINS, D.Litt., M.A., and\n     R. A. HADFIELD, of the Hecla Works, Sheffield.\n\n     BACK TO THE LAND: An Inquiry into the Cure for Rural\n     Depopulation. By H. E. MOORE.\n\n     TRUSTS, POOLS AND CORNERS. By J. STEPHEN JEANS.\n\n     THE FACTORY SYSTEM. By R. W. COOKE-TAYLOR.\n\n     THE STATE AND ITS CHILDREN. By GERTRUDE TUCKWELL.\n\n     WOMEN'S WORK. By LADY DILKE, Miss BULLEY, and Miss WHITLEY.\n\n     MUNICIPALITIES AT WORK. The Municipal Policy of Six Great Towns,\n     and its Influence on their Social Welfare. By FREDERICK DOLMAN.\n\n     SOCIALISM AND MODERN THOUGHT. By M. KAUFMANN.\n\n     THE HOUSING OF THE WORKING CLASSES. By E. BOWMAKER.\n\n     MODERN CIVILIZATION IN SOME OF ITS ECONOMIC ASPECTS. By W.\n     CUNNINGHAM, D.D., Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge.\n\n     THE PROBLEM OF THE UNEMPLOYED. By J. A. HOBSON, B.A.\n\n     LIFE IN WEST LONDON. By ARTHUR SHERWELL, M.A. _Second Edition._\n\n     RAILWAY NATIONALIZATION. By CLEMENT EDWARDS.\n\n     WORKHOUSES AND PAUPERISM. By LOUISA TWINING.\n\n     UNIVERSITY AND SOCIAL SETTLEMENTS. By W. REASON, M.A.\n\n\n\n\nClassical Translations\n\n\nEdited by H. F. FOX, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Brasenose College,\nOxford.\n\n     \u00c6SCHYLUS--Agamemnon, Ch\u00f6ephoroe, Eumenides. Translated by LEWIS\n     CAMPBELL, LL.D., late Professor of Greek at St. Andrews. _5s._\n\n     CICERO--De Oratore I. Translated by E. N. P. MOOR, M.A. _3s. 6d._\n\n     CICERO--Select Orations (Pro Milone, Pro Murena, Philippic II.,\n     In Catilinam). Translated by H. E. D. 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M. M. STEDMAN, M.A. _Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d._\n\n     FRENCH EXAMINATION PAPERS IN MISCELLANEOUS GRAMMAR AND IDIOMS.\n     By A. M. M. STEDMAN, M.A. _Ninth Edition._\n\n     A KEY, issued to Tutors and Private Students only, to be had on\n     application to the Publishers. _Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s.\n     net._\n\n     LATIN EXAMINATION PAPERS IN MISCELLANEOUS GRAMMAR AND IDIOMS. By\n     A. M. M. STEDMAN, M.A. _Ninth Edition._\n\n     KEY (_Third Edition_) issued as above. _6s. net._\n\n     GREEK EXAMINATION PAPERS IN MISCELLANEOUS GRAMMAR AND IDIOMS. By\n     A. M. M. STEDMAN, M.A. _Fifth Edition._\n\n     KEY (_Second Edition_) issued as above. _6s. net._\n\n     GERMAN EXAMINATION PAPERS IN MISCELLANEOUS GRAMMAR AND IDIOMS.\n     By R. J. MORICH, Manchester. _Fifth Edition._\n\n     KEY (_Second Edition_) issued as above. _6s. net._\n\n     HISTORY AND GEOGRAPHY EXAMINATION PAPERS. By C. H. SPENCE, M.A.,\n     Clifton College. _Second Edition._\n\n     SCIENCE EXAMINATION PAPERS. By R. E. STEEL, M.A., F.C.S. _In two\n     vols._\n\n     Part I. Chemistry; Part II. Physics.\n\n     GENERAL KNOWLEDGE EXAMINATION PAPERS. By A. M. M. STEDMAN, M.A.\n     _Third Edition._\n\n     KEY (_Second Edition_) issued as above, _7s. net._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\nMinor typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected\nwithout note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have\nbeen retained as printed.\n\nThe illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up\nparagraphs, thus the page number of the illustration might not match\nthe page number in the List of Illustrations.\n\nMismatched quotes are not fixed if it's not sufficiently clear where\nthe missing quote should be placed.","title":"A book of the west. Volume 1, Devon : $b being an introduction to Devon and Cornwall","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":115390}