familiar kinds abundant, but rarer species as the true maiden-hair,
two filmy ferns, and the parsley fern (_Cryptogramme crispa_) are to
be found. The magnificent royal fern, _Osmunda regalis_, still grows
in some of the river valleys, and especially in Holne Chase, but it
has suffered much from the greed of collectors, and the raids of
unscrupulous dealers. A great variety of spleenworts has been recorded
for the county, and one of the characteristic hedgerow ferns is the
pretty little _Asplenium adiantum-nigrum_. Mosses, also, are very
abundant, and there is one kind which occurs nowhere else in Britain.
In sea-weeds Devonshire is richer than any other county except Dorset.
Among its 468 different species is the Sargasso or Gulf-weed, sprays of
which are sometimes thrown ashore after rough weather.
Except on the moors Devonshire is well timbered. The elm is perhaps
the most conspicuous tree, but the beech and the ash are also very
abundant. There is a very fine wych-elm, with a trunk 16 ft. in
circumference, in Sharpham Park. The sycamore, which when well-developed
is a very beautiful tree, here attains to fine proportions, and there
are noble examples at Widecombe-in-the-Moor. The oak, although it grows
freely, does not, as a rule, reach a great size, though there are some
well-grown specimens at Tawstock Court. There is an oak at Flitton, near
North Molton, which is thirty-three feet in circumference, and the Meavy
oak is twenty-five feet in girth. An oak-tree thirteen and a half feet
in diameter was cut down at Okehampton in 1776, and there is a tradition
that two couples danced upon its stump. There are no very remarkable
yews in Devonshire. Probably the finest are at Stoke Gabriel, Kenn,
and Withycombe Raleigh, but the first of these is only fifteen feet
in girth at the level of the ground. There is a story that, under the
yew-tree at Mamhead, Boswell vowed that he would never get drunk
again. At Bowringsleigh there is a magnificent avenue of lime-trees,
and the avenue of araucarias at Bicton, planted in 1842, is said to be
the finest in the kingdom. Several manor-houses possess one or more
noble old mulberry-trees planted in the time of James I, with a view to
encourage the cultivation of silk. At Buckland Abbey, once the home of
Sir Francis Drake, there are some beautiful tulip-trees. Palms and other
sub-tropical trees grow without protection at several places on the
south coast; and at Kingsbridge and other towns pomegranates, oranges,
lemons, and citrons will ripen their fruit in the open air.
A good many places in Devonshire take their names from trees. Thus
Ashburton is named from the ash, Egg Buckland from the oak, Bickleigh
from the beech, and Holne from the holly.
8. A Peregrination of the Coast: 1, The Bristol Channel.
Devonshire, like Cornwall and Kent, is remarkable in having both a
northern and a southern seaboard; a peculiarity shared by no other
English county. Its two shores present striking points of difference.
The south coast-line is broken by many estuaries. On the other shore
there is only one important river mouth. There are, it is true, many
little coves and inlets on the Bristol Channel, some of them of great
beauty; but they make little show upon the map of England, and the stern
outline of the North Devon coast affords no harbour of refuge.
Both shores are rock-bound. But while the southern cliffs are, in great
measure, of warm-hued and even brightly-coloured stone, those on the
north are dark and gloomy; and their tones, although in some places very
beautiful, are set in quieter key--in grey or brown or even verging upon
black. Again, the southern shore is fringed at some points with sandy
beaches; while on the north coast there are no sands at all, except on
the western side of Bideford Bay.
Along the northern seaboard of Devon there runs a series of magnificent
cliffs, in parts heavily wooded, whose dark walls, sloping steeply
to the shore and with projecting bases suggestive of the ram of a
battleship, are relieved at many points by deep, rocky clefts, known
variously as combes or mouths; each with its stream, each green with
ferns and oak-coppice and thickets of thorn and hazel, and each with its
butterfly-haunted clumps of tall hemp-agrimony.
[Illustration: The Castle Rock, Lynton]
Down such a hollow, the deep and finely-wooded valley of Glenthorne,
runs the border-line that divides Somerset from Devon. Rather more
than three miles west of it there stands out into the Bristol Channel
the dark mass of Countisbury Foreland, the most northerly point in
the county, and one of the highest along its coast, 1100 feet above
sea-level. Four miles beyond the Foreland, at the mouth of a deep and
well-wooded valley, down which runs the beautiful trout-stream from
which it takes its name, is Lynmouth, famous for its scenery, of which
two striking features are the Watersmeet on the river, and the Valley of
Rocks on the coast. A port and fishing-village up to the close of the
eighteenth century, its small tidal harbour is visited now only by a few
small coasting vessels. About four miles west of Lynmouth is Heddon's
Mouth, a little bay at the foot of towering cliffs, with another
trout-stream flowing down to the sea through one of the loveliest
combes in North Devon. Five miles of cliff stretch from Heddon's
Mouth to Combe Martin Bay, a little inlet lying in the shelter of two
conspicuous heights, the Great Hangman and the Little Hangman--names
associated with no tragic story, but derived, like many others round our
coasts, from the Celtic _maen_, a stone--and with its village, once
famous for its rich silver-mines, running a mile inland. Two miles of
rock-bound and dangerous coast, swept, especially off Rillage Point, by
a strong tide-race, extend from Combe Martin Bay to the ancient port of
Ilfracombe, whose mild yet bracing climate and beautiful surroundings
have made it the most popular seaside resort in North Devon. Its little
land-locked harbour is almost surrounded by lofty hills and rugged
cliffs, whose beauty is greatly heightened by the varied colouring of
the rock and by the vivid green of the abundant vegetation.
[Illustration: Valley of Rocks, Lynton]
Ilfracombe is a place that has played a part in history. In the
fourteenth century it provided six ships towards Edward III's expedition
against Calais. It was from this port that Queen Elizabeth sent troops
to Ireland during the rebellion of the Earl of Tyrone. In the Civil War
it was taken alternately by Royalists and Parliamentarians. It was from
Ilfracombe that Wade and Ferguson and other Sedgemoor fugitives tried
in vain to escape by sea. And it was here, in 1796, that the French
squadron which afterwards landed 1000 scoundrels of the _Légion noire_
at Fishguard, on the opposite coast--the last hostile invasion of these
islands--burnt the fishing-smacks lying in the harbour. The French ships
were in the end taken by Lord Bridport.
A short distance west of Ilfracombe is Wildersmouth, a beautiful bay,
with a gravelly beach, famous for its richness in the lower forms of
marine life, and three miles farther down the coast juts out Bull
Point, a bold headland guarded by a powerful lighthouse, marking the
north-eastern limit of the most dangerous part of the coast, which
here turns abruptly southward, facing squarely to the open Atlantic. A
little farther on is Morte Point, whose name the popular fancy regards,
although without foundation, as hinting at the deadly character of its
black, jagged, sea-swept rocks. The village of Mortehoe, a few hundred
yards inland, was the property in the thirteenth century of the de
Traci family, one of whom was among the murderers of Thomas à Becket.
But there is no ground for the legend that he was buried here, or for
the traditions of him that are current in the district. A tiny little
cove on the south side of Morte Point, called Barracane Beach, was once
famous for its rare and beautiful shells; but it is now so widely known,
and its charm is so completely lost, that it has been said of it that
there are more collectors than specimens.
[Illustration: Ilfracombe, from Hillsborough]
Beyond Morte Point is Morte Bay, most of whose shore lies low, and is
fringed throughout almost its entire length by the broad expanse of
Woollacombe Sands, along whose margin, at heights varying from eight to
fifteen feet above high-water mark, may be traced at intervals a raised
sea-beach. At the southern extremity of Morte Bay is the noble headland
of Baggy Point, a magnificent piece of cliff, haunted by crowds of
sea-birds, and pierced by many caves. The shore of Croyde Bay, beyond
the Point, is famous for its fertility; and from the crest of Saunton
Down, the last headland before the estuary formed by the waters of the
Taw and the Torridge, is a view which, embracing sea and coast-line,
rich expanses of farm-land, the distant heights of Dartmoor and the
faint shape of Lundy on the far horizon, is one of the finest in all
Devon. Along the shore to the south of Baggy Point, where Saunton Sands
form the seaward fringe of Braunton Burrows, is another long stretch of
raised sea-beach, from two to fifteen feet above high-water mark. And
in this beach, not far from Saunton, is a large boulder of red granite,
a rock unknown in the district, which may have been stranded here by
floating ice.
Braunton Burrows is a long, wide tract of sand-hills, some eighteen
square miles in area, stretching far inland, and reaching to the estuary
of the Taw and the Torridge, with deep hollows among which, without a
compass, it is quite possible to get completely lost. It is a place of
much interest to the naturalist and the antiquarian. A number of rare
plants are found here, great quantities of primitive flint implements
have been discovered in the sand, and at low water the remains of a
submerged forest are to be seen along the shore.
The estuary formed by the combined streams of the Taw and Torridge,
the former of which is also known as the Barnstaple River, flows into
Barnstaple Bay at the south end of Braunton Burrows. There is no port
on the open coast; but just inside the estuary are the quaint old town
of Appledore and the equally ancient village of Instow, on the left and
right banks, respectively, of the river Torridge. In the mouth of the
same stream, a little to the south of Appledore, is a long flat rock
called the Hubblestone; named, according to tradition, after the viking
Hubba, who pillaged this coast in the reign of King Alfred, and fell in
battle at the mouth of the Parrett, in the adjoining county of Somerset.
Blocking up a great part of the river mouth, and stretching down the
coast past Westward Ho! a distance of about two miles, is the Pebble
Ridge, a remarkable bank of shingle and sea-worn boulders, some of which
are of great size, though the majority are not more than a few inches in
diameter. The sea has gradually shifted it further and further inland,
and it now covers what was once a long stretch of good pasture-ground.
On its landward side are the golf-links of Northam Burrows, considered
to be among the finest south of the Tweed.
Westward Ho! a modern watering-place named in honour of Kingsley's great
romance, is chiefly interesting on account of its submerged forest, in
whose peat and clay, deeply covered by the sea at high tide, have been
found, not only the trunks of large oak and fir-trees, and bones of
the wild boar, stag, horse, and dog, but bones of man, together with
charcoal, pottery, and implements of flint.
Six miles south-west of Westward Ho! and in the centre of the curve that
marks the southern shore of Barnstaple Bay, is the prettily situated
fishing-village of Buck's Mill, with red and wood-crowned cliffs behind
and beyond it, and extending to Clovelly, the famous little
town that may truly be called one of the most remarkable spots, not in
Devonshire only, but in all England. Crowded in a hollow in the cliff,
with woods on either side, and with an air of climbing up from its
little tidal harbour sheltered by a rough stone pier of the time of
Richard II, it consists of one long, winding, pebble-paved street, too
steep for wheeled traffic, with quaint and irregularly-built cottages
to left and right, beautiful with creepers and myrtles, fuchsias and
geraniums. Not only is Clovelly intimately associated with the memory of
Charles Kingsley, whose father was rector here, but it is the original
"village of Steepways," in Dickens and Collins' Christmas story, _A
Message from the Sea_.
[Illustration: Cliffs near Clovelly]
A long stretch of wild and magnificent coast-line extends from Clovelly
to Hartland Point, where the shore again turns southward, and again
from Hartland to the county border; a wall of precipitous black cliffs,
relieved here and there by bands of red schist, and broken at intervals
by green combes such as are characteristic of the seabord of Devon; a
terrible coast, strewn with fragments of wreckage from ill-fated ships.
[Illustration: Clovelly Harbour]
Hartland Point, believed to be the Promontory of Hercules alluded to by
the geographer Ptolemy, is a noble headland, whose dark steeps rise 350
feet sheer up out of a dangerous and ever restless sea. Perhaps there
is not, in any other part of North Devon, more striking evidence of
volcanic upheaval and disturbance than is to be seen in the curved and
gnarled and twisted strata of the cliffs that tower above Hartland Quay.
Six miles south of Hartland the northern seaboard of the county ends, as
it began, in a deep hollow in the cliffs, Marsland Mouth, a beautiful
combe, down which, under storm-beaten oaks and thickets of thorn and
hazel, there winds the stream that forms the border-line between
Devonshire and Cornwall.
[Illustration: Church Rock, Clovelly]
9. A Peregrination of the Coast: 2, The English Channel.
The points that specially characterise the southern seaboard of
Devonshire, and distinguish it from the northern shore, are its many
estuaries, its numerous bays and bold headlands, the strong, deep red,
in some places, of its rugged cliffs, and, in a minor degree, the sandy
beaches which lend an added charm to many of its seaside towns.
No natural feature marks the spot, half-way between Lyme Cobb and
the Seven Rocks Point, where the border-line between Dorsetshire and
Devonshire begins. But all that part of the coast, almost as far as the
mouth of the Axe, shows signs of having been broken away by repeated
landslips; one of the most serious of which happened in 1839, when a
vast mass of cliff, extending all the way from Pinhay (or Pinner) to
Culverhole Point, slipped bodily down some 300 feet, carrying with it
fields and houses; and it now lies in most picturesque ruin on the beach.
The mouth of the Axe, above whose eastern side rises the Haven Cliff, a
fine mass of red sandstone crowned by white chalk, has long since been
silted up by pebbles, and no ships now visit either Axmouth or Seaton,
the latter of which was once of sufficient importance to contribute
two vessels towards Edward III's expedition against Calais, but is now
only a watering-place. Beyond the mouth of the Axe, separated from it
by a mile of low-lying shore, the White Cliff, also a scene of many
landslips, rises sheer up out of the sea; a fine piece of cliff-wall,
the effect of whose bands of red and white, of brown and grey, is
greatly heightened by the green of its abundant vegetation. More
striking still is the white precipice of Beer Head, the most southerly
outcrop of chalk in England, worn above into picturesque and ivy-mantled
crags, and hollowed at its base into many caves. From its summit, 426
feet above the sea, is a far-reaching view of the coast, covering the
50 miles from Portland on the east to the Start on the west. Half-way
between the mouth of the Axe and Beer Head is the quaint and old-world
village of Beer, famous for its labyrinthine quarries tunnelled deep
into the hill, for its fisheries and lace-making, and, formerly, as a
special haunt of smugglers. From Beer Head, past the little openings of
Branscombe Mouth, Weston Mouth, and Salcombe, to Sidmouth, is a range
of magnificent and picturesquely-coloured cliffs, white and grey and
yellow, and at some points rising straight up from the sea-line.
[Illustration: Pinhay Landslip]
[Illustration: White Cliff, Seaton]
Sidmouth, the "Baymouth" of Thackeray's _Pendennis_, set among beautiful
hills, and one of the pleasantest of west-country watering-places, was
once a port, with valuable pilchard fisheries. But its harbour has
been destroyed by repeated falls of rock from its grand cliffs of
deep red sandstone, the Sid is silted up with sand and shingle, and
the pilchards have left this part of the coast. About a mile west of
Sidmouth is the beautiful headland of High Peak, whose summit, 511 feet
above the sea, is the most lofty point on the south coast of Devon.
Just beyond it is the popular bathing-place of Ladram Cove, whose firm
sands are fringed with brightly-coloured pebbles. Rather more than two
miles farther on is the estuary of the Otter, a harbour 500 years ago,
but now, like so many of these river mouths, barred with shingle. Close
to the estuary lies the quiet little town of Budleigh Salterton, set
in a beautiful valley, famous for its mild climate and its luxuriant
vegetation. Some five miles of coast-line--broken half-way by Straight
Point, beyond which the shore is low--extend from Budleigh to the mouth
of the Exe, the widest of Devonshire estuaries, but almost closed by a
long bar of grass-grown sand called the Warren, on which, during the
Civil War, stood a Royalist fort mounting sixteen guns. Exmouth, at the
east side of the estuary, formerly a fishing-village, is now a highly
popular watering-place.
[Illustration: Parson and Clerk Rocks, Dawlish]
Four miles farther on, in a little bay walled-in by lofty cliffs
of deep red sandstone, is Dawlish, noted for its warm climate and
its good sands. At the eastern end of the bay is a rock called the
Langstone, and at the western end are the strange-looking pillars of
red sandstone known as the Parson and Clerk. Teignmouth lies rather
more than two miles S.S.W. of Dawlish, with picturesque red cliffs and
firm sands all the way, at the mouth of the estuary of the river Teign,
whose swiftly-flowing stream is here crossed by one of the longest
wooden bridges in England. It is a small port and a very popular
watering-place, with beautiful inland scenery behind it, and inside
the Den--the dune or sand-bank which bars a great part of the river's
mouth--is a good harbour for vessels of light draught. Teignmouth is
one of the towns that in the past have suffered from the attacks of the
French, who burnt it in 1347 and again in 1690.
[Illustration: Anstis Cove, near Torquay]
Four miles south of the estuary of the Teign is Babbacombe Bay, in whose
beautiful cliffs of red and grey is some of the richest colouring on the
whole coast. The paler-toned cliffs round the picturesque little inlet
of Anstis Cove are of limestone. Half a mile farther is the prominent
cape called Hope's Nose, the northern limit of Torbay, and a spot
of much interest to the geologist on account of the raised sea-beach
which, at a height of some thirty feet above the present high tide-line,
may be traced under the headland, and also, at a lower level, on the
Thatcher Rock. Among the marine shells of the latter deposit is _Trophon
truncatus_, an arctic species, whose presence here is another proof that
the climate of Devonshire was once far colder than it is now.
[Illustration: Torquay from Vane Hill]
Torbay, which extends from Hope's Nose on the north to Berry Head on
the south--two prominent headlands nearly five miles apart--is one of
the best known and most beautiful bays on the coast of England. In all
except easterly winds it affords an excellent anchorage which was much
used by ships of the Royal Navy in the old sailing days, and it
is still a great yachting station. At the northern end of the bay,
occupying, it is said, more ground in proportion to its population than
any other town in the island, is the much frequented watering-place
of Torquay, widely celebrated for the beauty of its situation and the
mildness of its winter climate. Along the whole coast of Torbay, at
a level which shows that the land has sunk some forty feet, lies a
submerged forest, in which have been found bones of the wild boar,
red-deer antlers, and mammoth's teeth. But proofs of an elevation on a
still greater scale are to be found in the borings of sea-shells in the
limestone cliffs above Kent's Cavern, within the limits of the town, at
a height of 200 feet above the present sea level.
Half-way along the shore of Torbay is Paignton, another favourite
seaside resort, famous for its fine beach, and on a steep slope at the
head of an inlet rather more than a mile before coming to Berry Head
stands Brixham, a town second only in importance to Plymouth among
the fishing-stations of the south coast of England. Here, on the 5th
of November, 1688, the Prince of Orange landed. And here, six weeks
after the Battle of Waterloo, the _Bellerophon_ anchored, with Napoleon
Buonaparte a prisoner on board.
[Illustration: Brixham]
Beyond Berry Head, which forms the end of a broad promontory, worn at
its base into many caves, and noted for its quarries, there extends
for many miles--all the way, in fact, to the mouth of the Dart--a
stretch of very beautiful coast-line, with low but finely-coloured
cliffs of sandstone and limestone and slate, varying in tint from red
to purple, and from brown to grey, with a series of sandy bays and
fringed by outlying rocks, two of which are called Mewstones. One of
these, standing just where the coast sweeps round to the estuary of
the Dart, is a lofty pinnacle of stone more than 100 feet high. Well
inside the mouth of the Dart, on the steep slope of its left or eastern
entrance, is the quaint little town of Kingswear; and opposite to it,
on the western shore, lies Dartmouth, once a noted port, but now only
a favourite yachting station. The old man-of-war, the _Britannia_,
anchored here close to land and long used as a training-ship, has been
superseded by a naval college on shore, and is now used only as a store.
Dartmouth is a place of much historic interest. It was from here that
part of Richard C[oe]ur de Lion's crusading fleet sailed for Palestine.
The port furnished thirty-one ships towards Edward III's attack on
Calais. Twice, in the half century that followed, it was plundered by
the French. It played a prominent part in the Civil War, and was taken
first by Prince Maurice, and afterwards by Fairfax.
[Illustration: The "Britannia" and "Hindostan" in Dartmouth Harbour]
Between the mouth of the Dart and Start Point, nine miles as the crow
flies, is Start Bay, walled for about half its length with low and
quiet-coloured cliffs of slate, and fringed in great part with sand
and shingle. At Blackpool, a picturesque little cove near the northern
end of the bay, du Chastel the Breton landed, in 1404, on a pillaging
expedition, for the plundering was not all on the side of the English.
But the Frenchman was killed, with 400 of his men, and 200 more were
taken prisoners. Half-way along the shore of Start Bay are Slapton
Sands, where a beach of small and brightly-coloured pebbles and a
bank of shingle separate the long and narrow lake called Slapton Ley
from the waters of the Channel. Off this spot, marked by two beacons
on the shore, is the spot, "measured mile" for testing the speed of
steamships. Not far from Slapton the coast rises again, and above the
fishing villages of Hallsands and Beesands, which stand at the water's
edge, reaches a height of some hundreds of feet. The people of these two
little hamlets train powerful dogs, which, in rough weather, swim out
through the surf, catch the painters thrown to them and thus enable the
fishing-boats to be dragged ashore.