No. 15. The Selector. "WE CULL THE CHOICEST" MARCH, 1827. SKETCHES OF CORNWALL. To the Editor of the Selector. In your two previous Nos. have been inserted a short account of the valuable harbour and of the rich Minerals which this County can boast of. From the many other objects worthy of attention, is now selected for description the far-famed, ST. MICHAEL'S-MOUNT, which those who have seen it will be pleased to read of, and to those who have not yet seen it, the account will be instructive, and it may perhaps induce the Tourist before he quits his own country for foreign sights, to enlarge his mind by viewing the above and many other scenes and curiosities in this portion of the realm. This Mount which from whatever way you approach it, commands attention and excites pleasure, is situate at the eastern part of the spacious and celebrated Mount's-Bay, it is a fine towering Eminence of a conical form, it is an Island at high-water and is a Peninsula at low-water, for at the latter time you can walk to it over the then dry neck of land from the little town of Marazion distant more than a quarter of a mile;-from thence to Penzance round the bay about 3 miles, and 10 Miles more to the Land's-end. When either in a boat or on foot you reach the base,there is a Village chiefly of Pilots and fishermen, from which VOL. 2 D [Price 3d extends into the Sea an excellent embowed Stone Pier forming so good a harbour that at high tide, Vessels from 400 to 500 Tons can safely enter Tradition relates that in very distant ages this high isolated hill was once distant 6 miles from the Sea, and was surrounded by a Wood in which wild beasts did range!-our native genius Davy alludes to this in his poem, which says, "This Mount whose base beat by the storms of ages, stands unmoved amidst the wreck of things, the change of time: That base now circled by the azure waves was once with verdure clad !" The truth of this appears plausible from its ancient Cornish appellation of Carak-ludgh en luz,-which means the-Grey or hoary rock in the Wood; Leland says,—that in the bay he found near low-water mark, many roots of trees; and the well-known Borlase of Ludgvan, relates that in the natural soil of the bay there were both trunks and roots of trees, covered by the sands, and at high tide 12 feet water thereon! A short sketch of the history collected from old authors will first be given, and then an account of its present modern appearance. The ICTIS of Diodorus - Siculus is considered to be this place where the Phænicians traded for Cornish Tin;-and in the writings of Ptolemy it is called OCRINUM:-its present appellation is derived from the monastic legend of the Apparition of St. Michael appearing seated on a terrific Crag of this rocky mount! which story was raised by some Monks to sanctify the ground and raise the means for founding a Monastery; the hill having been thus hallowed by the Arc-angel, numerous pilgrims paid visits and their money to induce the monks to make acceptable their wishes and pious vows on the altar raised to St. Michael;-these holy friars to raise and maintain the sanctity and the price, made the deluded devotees go through probationary ceremonies on the " Chapel-rock”half way from the town, before they were worthy of admission on the sacred Mount! " Our Poet Spencer names it thus, Among the sacred unto Saints, St. Michael's Monut who does not know, The earliest period on record as being devoted to religious deeds, (though it may be older,) is in the 5th Century. when a holy Virgin named St Keyna, of British blood royal, daughter of Prince Braganus, travelled here a Pilgrim, A. D. 490. then her nephew Prince Cadoc came also, and by his virtue of faith caused a spring of water to rise in a dry place! From this æra we must pass on to King Edward the Confessor, who established a Priory of Benedictines, and with the Mount bestowed for their support some other places. When William of Normandy had ascended the throne of England by the conquest, Robert Earl of Mortaigne added lands to this Priory; and to shew the veneration it had obtained, Pope Gregory, A. D. 1070, issued his most holy decree;-"That out of his great zeal for the Church of St. Michael entrusted to the angelical ministry, he doth consecrate power for them to remit to all the Faithful who shall enrich, endow, or visit the same, a Third part of their penance:—and that it shall for ever remain invioluble by authority of the Father, Son and Holy-Ghost, forbidding his successors from making any alteration of this his Decree." These words saith William of Worcester were placed on the gates of the Church, that the devout might be in duced to come. In the 14th Century Edward III seized the Priory, but a fine being paid, it was restored; the revenue was then about 200 Marks. In the 15th Century Henry VI gave it to king's College, Cambridge. and in the next reign, Edward IV turned it over to a Nunnery at Sion, near London.-In the reign of Henry VII, about A. D. 1536. the Reformation taking place, and that monarch dissolving all the numerous monastic establishments and seizing the revenues, this Priory was valued at £110 12s Per annum, and the Mount was then given as a military post to Governor Arundell of the noble family at Lanherne. In the reign of Edward VI it was in the hands of the High Sheriff Job Milliton, Esqr. and Queen Elizabeth in 1559 made a grant of it by patent, which past to the Earl of Salisbury, afterwards to Francis Basset Esqr and in the 17th Century was finally sold to the Ancestor of Sir John St. Aubyn Bart: of Clowance, the present worthy possessor; by whom and family this beauteous spot has been in every way adorned, still keeping the original character, and also have enlarged and improved the Pier rendering it a commodious harbor for the use and preservation of Ships and mariners. During all these historic ages, the Monks and their successors were not free from military sacrilege and spoliation, for so early as King Richard I called Caur de Lion for his heroic deeds of of arms in the crusades, the place was seized and the monks expelled, also in the reigns of Edward IV and VI war and massacre prevailed there; the last military event was in the Civil-wars of Charles I when a seige was well sustained for the king, but at last compelled to surrender. Now let us turn to this present time, when war has ceased, when in this United kingdom our liberties and property are safe and every man's house is his castle, and view this gem of Cornwall, St Michael's-Mount,-first at a distance the attention is fixed with delight at its appearance and situation ; on arriving at its base, (as above sta ted,) you ascend from the Village by a serpentine path and pass between the rough masses of rocks, which by the strange forms that time has produced, awaken deep thoughts of the revolutions of past ages; on the summit are the remains of the monastic building, with additions to adapt it for an agreeable residence, much improved by the present owner, who has added a fine Organ, to the Gothic Chapel, has ar ranged carved seats in the cathedral form and made it elegant and solemn to the sight; in the tower are 6 fine and soft toned bells. The old Refectory of the monks and guard-room with some other parts convey to you a good idea of the ancient Priory; the Refectory is a fine hall 33 feet long, 16 feet wide, and 18 feet high, and the furniture and antique curiosities therein increase the effect; it has had since the Reformation the name of the Chevychace room, from a fine freize about midway height all round in stucco, which pictures the hunting of the Wild-boar, the Stag, the Fox and other animals. A want of fresh water was always felt, as rain alone was the supply, untill about 60 years ago, when a Well was sunk at about two thirds up the acclivity through a very hard rock and fine spring water obtained at only 37 feet depth, and touching on a Tin lode. The circumference of this Island is more than a mile, composed of hard Granite with transparent quartz, there are strata of slate in the north part, and on the south appear metallic veins. The soil on the rock is of course shallow, but affords tolerable herbage and a few trees. In some views it appears as a majestic perpendicular lofty cliff. in others as a fine conical acclivity, with jutting crags to vary and enhance its commanding effect. Though last not least in attraction, ascend from the Chapel the narrow winding stone stair-case up the tower to the highest summit about 250 feet from the sands of the sea; on the roof is a Stone seat, called St. Michael's Chair, form invited to sit, if your nerves will allow, to view the gulph below!-without that risk you can walk the circle of this high placed tower and survey the wondrous prospect around; if in calm weather the liquid smooth expanse delights and charms the soul, and if the winds of heaven rage, then the heavy surge lashing the Rock's foundation you witness in awful pleasure," the rude roar of the wide weltering waves," and mind ascends to the thought of HIM! who-" Rides on the storm and walks upon the wings of of the wind, bidding the waters and the winds be still!" Who can adequately describe it ?-your view is first of the entire Bay, its waters sweeping in a crescent form, from the Lizard-point to near the Land's-end, with the numerous vessels on its azure surface pursuing their devious way; -on the other view the arched shore and undulating hills with the Churches of St. Hilary, Ludgvan, Gulval, Madron, Buryan, Paul and others, with the towns of Marazion and Penzance, the interspersed villages of Chyandour, New lyn, &c. and studded with Gentlemen's Seats, "All these, (as Dr. Maton exclaims,) raise the most sublime emotions, with the waves of the British, Irish and Atlantic Seas rolling within the compass of your sight!" In concluding this Sketch it may be right to remark the mild and genial air of this climate; the heat never so great as to occasion lassitude, and the cold (or rather lesser heat,) of the Winter so moderate, that the most delicate constitutions are renovated. Thus Invalids may renew their health enjoy these scenes and have all the comforts of their native land, without visiting foreign climes, by a pleasant journey or short delightful voyage to this our favor'd western shore. I remain, Yours, &c. J. ing part of the wall on the deep per Mount-Sion, 1st March, 1827. pendicular precipice, in which you are A beckon from Eternity A message Heavenly Sire! from thee To straight prepare For my exalted destiny ; To meet thee there! February 1827: FOUR DEGREES OF COMPARISON. February, 1827. TO SARAH, J. J. M ON THE RETURN OF HER NATAL-DAY. Now have we past, revolving with the Earth, And Autumn's fruits, which all our senses charm CHILDE OF PLYMSTOCK. (A Legend of the Devonshire Moors.) In a wild and unfrequented tract of Dartmoor, near the majestic peak of Fox-tor, are still to be seen the remains of a granite ToмB, erected about three centuries and half ago to the memory of CHILD of Plymstock, a gentleman offayre possessions" who perished in a SNOW-STORM which overtook him while hunting on the moor. The tomb, till within the last fifteen years, was almost perfect. It consisted of a square basement, each side formed into three steps, leading to an octagonal shaft supporting a small cross. The structure, standing in the midst of so impressive and solitary a region, wore a very interesting appearance; but it could not escape the band of wanton destruction; after resisting the storms of more than three hundred years it was demolished by a Visigoth named Windeatt who, being about to construct a house, in the neighbourhood, thought that the basement stones of the monu ment would answer the purpose of steps to his intended building.-The shaft and the cross still remain on the spot where they were overthrown; they lie on the banks of a moorland rivulet that rises not far off, and babbles a noisy course adown the rough slopes 'till it empties its fresh waters into the bosom of a broad and foaming torrent. Often in the rosy hush of a summer evening, when the wild Tors around lay bathed in sunny light, have I sat by those grey mouldering relics and pondered over the story of the hapless hunter that perished there amid the soul chilling silence of a snowy wilderness! Bleak must that weather be that ever kept CHILDE of Plymstock from hunting the Red-deer on the moons; his dwelling stood on the western skirts of Dartmoor which in those days swept down almost to the very margin of the sea. Where the beautiful woods of Saltram now rise, formerly bloomed the pensive heath-bell, and nestled the solitary lapwing; and many a sweet little water spring that gave life and freshness to the green retreats of that lordly domain then gushed up unobserved, save by the eye of the water-haunting ouzel. The richly foliaged Vale of Bickleigh was then a treeless heathy glen; and the Plym journeyed from source to sea unshadowe by branch or bough. Childe was a lonely man, for kindred he had none. In early life he married a young and beautiful girl who died ere her bloom had matured into summer loveliness. That mournful event cast a shadow over the after life of Childe, and he shunned the world, and held communion with the spirit of solitude. But though he was gloomy he was not morose; his misfortunes did not imbue him with a selfish absorbing grief, excluding from his bosom the "music of humanity" for his hall was famous for its hospitality, and he mingled freely with the guests whom chance brought under the shelter of his roof. His only solace was hunting and this pursuit became with him a passion.-In sunlight and in storm he aroused the red-deer from his secluded lair, and he at length obtained the appellation of "The Hunter of the Moor." As the winter Sun was one Morn touching the rugged tors with golden light, Childe, followed by his dogs and serving men, issued slowly forth from the massive gateway that formed the approach to his house; the wind blew keenly from the North-East, and though even the heathy wilderness seemed blithe, yet dark and ominous masses. of cloud fitted threateningly across the deep blue sky; sometimes these clouds would acquire sufficient volume to hide the sun for a few moments and then Childe was halfinclined to forego the chase that day, for well he knew the dreadful wrath of a snow-storm on the moor; but ever and anon as these forebodings rushed across his mind the sun would suddenly burst forth with renewed splendour, so he continued to ride along the banks of the Plym which brawled over its rocky channel with the majesty of an Alpine stream, till he arrived at the opening of a narrow glen, strewed with masses of granite, and eloquent with the voice of a foaming torrent. Here and there |