the head of Restrongett Creek, where the village of Perran Wharf, and its noisy foundry, occupy the bottom of a shady hollow, which might be taken for a broad glade in a forest. You will perhaps be as much surprised to find that industry need not always be associated with ugliness, as by the beauty of the place itself. Piles of manufactured iron lie about, and heaps of coal and refuse, and vessels are loading and unloading at the wharf; but the scene is romantic, and the woods of Carclew, Sir Charles Lemon's domain, come sweeping down in masses of foliage that triumph over smoke, and all the roar of bellows and furnaces.

Beyond Perran you may take the old road which rises over a bit of wild country, from whence the sea is again visible, and a long stretch of Carrick Road is seen on the right. In another hour you will arrive at Penryn. The church of St. Gluvias, among the trees on the left, not far from the entrance to the town, is worth the trouble of turning aside to look at; if you are not too tired as I



Falmouth-The “Intricate Bay"-Pendennis Castle-Swanpool-Hel

ford Ferry - A Heavy Passenger-Monaccan-St. Keverne - The Downs—The White Heath - Fertility and Barrenness—Chynals Wollows-Coverack Cove-Crousa Downs-Diallage and SerpentineKennack Sands-Cadgwith-Its People-Serpentine Quarries—The Devil's Frying-Pan — Landewednack -A “Double Hedge" - The Lighthouses — The Lion's Den-Along the Cliffs—Smugglers Seventy Years Ago–The Happy-go-Lucky-Old Lizard Head, the Southernmost Point-Kynance Cove-Walk to Loo Pool-Helstone-Pen


“OPEN cheery heights, rather bare of wood; fresh south-western breezes; a brisk laughing sea, swept by industrious sails, and the nets of a most stalwart, wholesome, frank, and interesting population; the clean little fishing, trading, and packet town; hanging on its slope towards the Eastern sun, close on the waters of its basin and intricate bay,—with the miniature Pendennis Castle seaward on the right, the miniature St. Mawes landward to the left, and the mining world and farming world open boundlessly to the rear:—all this made a pleasant outlook and environment."

Such is Falmouth in a few vigorous touches from a master-hand; it answers best, however, for a distant view; for when, after the two miles' walk from Penryn, you enter the narrow, zigzaggy street, and see the narrower streets and alleys branching off to the right and left, with a suspicion of squalor about them-in fact, a repetition of Wapping or Rotherhithe-your feeling is one of disappointment; especially if, having

read the above passage in Carlyle's Life of John Sterling, it should have inspired you with anticipations fairer than the reality.

There, however, as elsewhere, handsome villas, cottages, and terraces, built on the outskirts, afford to their occupants the space, air, and light denied in the town; and at each end, and in the rear of Falmouth, its inhabitants find breathing room and agreeable prospects. But crowded as the interior is, trade finds room for its activities; as you will see in shops and warehouses ; around the Custom House ; on the wharfs, and in the harbour thronged with vessels; many waiting for a wind. Rambling about, you come to Mount Zion, and its synagogue: you passed the Jews' burial-ground on the way from Penryn. The church, built on ground given by one of the Killigrews, is dedicated to Charles the Martyr; a standing memorial of Cornish loyalty. And the sight of the Cornwall Sailors' Home, of the Public News Room, and other important buildings, will correct your first impressions. Here, too, are held the annual meetings of the Cornwall Polytechnic Society-a praiseworthy institution, helpful in developing still more the science and artistic industry for which the county has long been celebrated.

When clear of the town, and going up the hill towards Pendennis Castle, you will again find the external aspect of Falmouth all you could wish; and having passed the sentry at the gate, and mounted to the ramparts, you will be tempted to linger a while and contemplate the view. The great feature is the “intricate bay,” sending its numerous arms deep into the hilly shores, where fields and woods reflect their verdure in the water. From Zone Point, the opposite seaward


extremity, marked by a beacon, your eye passes to St. Mawes and its winding inlet-to Carrick-road, running up to Truro-to the pretty village of Flushing, half concealed by the trees of Trefusis Point, St. Just, and Mylor Creek—and so to the western shore, the town, and peninsulated hill on which you are reposing. Turn and look in the other direction: there the land sinks, and, sweeping round the head of Falmouth Bay, rises again beyond Helford into the high dark cliffs of the great promontory of the Lizard. You will be at their summit ere the day be finished. The contrast is great. Soft and beautiful on the one hand; grim and rocky on the other.

It was Raleigh who first called attention to Falmouth's magnificent harbour, and gave the impulse which brought it into importance. When he put in here, returning from his expedition to Guiana in search of Eldorado, he found, as is recorded, but a single house, the nucleus of a village which afterwards went by the name of Pennycome-Quick. The site of some of the earliest houses is yet to be seen near the centre of the town, and a story is told to explain the curious name; but it sounds like one of those which never were true. And out of this grew Falmouth, one day to become the chief station of the government mail-packets. Some thirty years ago the arrival of a packet was an incident to be eagerly announced to the whole kingdom by the newspapers. First started in 1688. to ply to Spain and Portugal, the number was increased until a regular service was established with the colonies and some principal foreign ports. They sailed to Lisbon once a week, to other places once a month, and brought us news from Brazil, New York,

the West Indies, and Madeira, whenever they could, at the pleasure of wind and weather. All are now superseded by steam-vessels ; and not till Falmouth is linked to London by a railway and electric telegraph will she regain her prominence in the postal service.

But we are forgetting Pendennis Castle. The flag flying on the top of the round tower tells you where the commandant resides: his dwelling, a more or less modern structure grouped round the circular pile, which dates from Henry VIII. On the seaward side the walls, which inclose a space of about fourteen acres, are constructed more in accordance with the nature of the ground than with strict military principles; and you may stroll from bastion to bastion, and look over the parapet, or out at the embrasures, at a height of two hundred feet above the sea. On one side are the barracks, well-tenanted, as indicated by the numbers of white gloves laid to dry on the window-ledges; on another the magazine, armoury, and storehouses. Here and there are paved platforms, piles of cannon, and pyramids of balls, and everywhere green slopes and levels of sward, inviting to a lounge. From the inner court you pass a second sentry and a foot-bridge out to the hornwork and the extremity of the Head. Here, perched on a rock close to the water, are the remains of an ancient battery, and you see traces of a scarped ditch and other defences, once thought necessary for external protection. Since the time of my visit all the works here and at St. Mawes have been greatly strengthened; for war has made us watchful and suspicious, and we are not yet prepared to trust to the forbearance of people whose standard of right and

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