Arthur L. Salmon
The Cornwall Coast
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4057664582539
Table of Contents
The G. W. R. Series of TRAVEL BOOKS
LIST OF TRAVEL BOOKS AND SOME PRESS OPINIONS.
The Cornwall Coast
CHAPTER I
THE PLYMOUTH DISTRICT
Britain is an emergent mass of land rising from a submarine platform that attaches it to the Continent of Europe. The shallowness of its waters—shallow relatively to the profundity of ocean deeps—is most pronounced off the eastern and south-eastern coasts; but it extends westward as far as the isles of Scilly, which are isolated mountain-peaks of the submerged plateau. The seas that wash the long Cornish peninsula, therefore, though they are thoroughly oceanic in character, especially on the north, are not oceanic in depth; we have to pass far beyond Scilly to cross the hundred-fathom line. From the Dover strait westward there is a gradual lowering of the incline, though of course with such variations and undulations as we find on the emerged plains; but the existence of this vast submarine basis must cause us to think of our island, naturally and geologically, as a true part of the great European continent, rendered insular by the comparatively recent intrusion of shallow and narrow waters. With some developments and some limits, our flora and fauna are absolutely Continental, the limits being even more noticeable as regards Ireland. The extensive coast-line has played a most important part in influencing national history and characteristics. The greater or less resistance of different rocks and soils has affected not only coast-configurations, but therewith also the very existence and well-being of the inhabitants.
The very appearance of Cornwall is eloquent of its granitic structure; nothing less enduring could have survived the stress to which it is daily exposed. All softer measures have been eroded by the fierce wash of Atlantic seas; what we may consider a gaunt, bare backbone has stood the test, and the Cornish coast to-day confronts forces that would play havoc with the more yielding and gentle curves of east and south-east England. We know what the narrow seas can do on East-Anglian and Kentish shores; and the same work of coast-erosion that we there see proceeding before our very eyes must have taken place in Cornwall before the days when historians could note it. The denudations that left our stark Cornish coasts as we know them now for the most part occurred in times that are dim and legendary. We hear of the havoc by an uncertain voice of tradition; we dream of a lost land of Lyonesse, of which only the Scillies remain; but the underlying truth of such romantic rumour must be carried back to Neolithic or earlier times. Though inaccurate in detail, such legends are rarely baseless. In places, such as Mount's Bay, there is still evidence of what the sea has taken; in other parts the evidence has been washed far from sight. The fact that the shallow seas extend far westward cannot be ignored; when we speak of a lost Lyonesse we are not dealing with absurdities. We must only be careful to date it far enough backward, or rather to leave it without date, which is a matter for the geologist rather than the historian to settle. It is an alluring vision on which we can linger without the sense of being actually unhistoric. We may even carry our thought further still, if we choose, and dream of some old Atlantis, now lying submerged in far greater depths beneath the waters of the ocean that perpetuates its name.
It will be seen that the peculiar shape of Cornwall has not been attained by chance, but has been the result of natural forces. In its appearance on a map there is a certain resemblance to Italy; while some etymologists, taking this appearance as a guide, have imagined that the origin of its name may be found in its horn-like figure. No other British division—using the word "division" advisedly, for Cornwall is not strictly a county—has such an extent of coast-line. Its greatest direct length is 80 miles, but the broken nature of the shore increases this very considerably; even at its juncture with Devon the Duchy is not more than 46 miles in breadth, and at its narrowest it is only six miles. Both the most western and the most southern points in England are to be found in Cornwall, at Land's End and the Lizard. The climate is delightfully equable, without extremes of heat or cold, but it is naturally humid, as Cornwall has to bear the first brunt of rain-storms that drive in from the Atlantic. To find a fitting point of departure for a pilgrimage round these coasts we have to step into Devonshire. In some sense Plymouth is the gateway of Cornwall, and a very appropriate gateway it is. Of the three rivers that give Plymouth its noble estuary the Lynher is purely Cornish, and the Tamar is as much Cornish as it is Devonian, except that it rises just over the Devon border. The population of Plymouth, Stonehouse, and Devonport is so largely Cornish that the three towns, which