The Cornwall Coast. Arthur L. Salmon

The picture was executed on a piece of sailcloth, in a boathouse at Cremyll. It is probable that the portrait was done rather with mischievous than artistic intent—a boy's picture of his tutor is not likely to be flattering; but Reynolds had already begun to show signs of his wonderful genius, and it may be guessed that he did the lion's share of the work. The friendship between the two lads survived to maturity, and there are many examples of the artist's ripe work at Mount Edgcumbe. There are three generations of the family from his pencil; and the marble busts in the saloon were purchased by him for this purpose, at Rome, which he first reached chiefly through his friend and patron's influence. There are also paintings here by Lely and Mascall, and there is a good deal of fine statuary in the grounds. When these grounds are hospitably thrown open to visitors, as they are so often, the educative influence of art, as well as that of natural beauty, is brought to bear on many, of whom we may hope that some are susceptible. When Sir Joshua brought Dr. Johnson to Plymouth, in 1762, we may feel sure that he took his great friend across to be introduced at Mount Edgcumbe; and we know that others connected with the same brilliant circle, such as General Paoli and Garrick, were visitors here. Garrick, indeed, celebrated the place in verse, as surpassing "all the mounts of England." Miss Burney came in 1789, on an occasion when "all 'the Royals' went sailing up the Tamar"; and she was delighted with the manor and its occupiers. There are therefore many ghosts wandering about among these Upper and Lower Gardens—the misnamed English Garden with its subtropical vegetation—magnolias, cork, bamboo: the Italian Garden with its orange-trees; the French Garden with its arbours and trellis and ilex-trees in the style of the old Empire. But the ghosts that walk here among the crowd of sight-seers, or at night when the moon glitters brilliantly on the broad estuary, or when the dark, moonless expanse is pierced with lights from pier and masthead and distant Eddystone—these ghosts are not such as we dread; they are the gracious figures of old-time guests, grizzled seamen of Elizabethan glory when men dreamed of new worlds and found them: kings, nobles, poets, painters, they are all here to greet us on our approach to the enchanted regions of the Delectable Duchy.

      It is said that a parish clerk, more than a century since, wrote a poem about Mount Edgcumbe in which he stated that—

      "Mount Edgcumbe is a pleasant place,

       It looketh on Hamoaze,

       And on it are some batteries

       To guard us from our foes."

      The batteries are certainly there, more numerous than ever, and we may hope that they will fulfil the purpose ascribed to them. Picklecombe Fort, on the cliff below the grounds, is particularly powerful, and in conjunction with the similar forts on the opposite heights of Staddon might be able to render a good account of itself if Plymouth Sound were ever attempted. The massive breakwater might also become an effective obstacle to unfriendly navigation. This defence, built to protect the harbour from south-west and south-easterly winds, is a very fine piece of engineering. It was begun in 1812, and its construction took twenty-eight years. About four and a half million tons of limestone were brought from the Oreston quarries, and two and a half million cubic feet of granite from Dartmoor. The central length is 1,000 yards, each of the wings being 350 yards, making the total length nearly a mile. The original cost was £1,500,000, to which may be added the expense on the lighthouse and on frequent repairs and renovations. The utility of the work has amply repaid the outlay. Though the surface rises several feet above normal high water, there are many times when the breakwater is swept by waves from end to end.

      Mount Edgcumbe is in the parish of Maker, and there is a sensational tale attaching to the interesting and finely situated church. It is said that a former Lady Edgcumbe was brought here for burial, and the sexton, left to himself, was trying to tear the rings off her fingers, when she gave a sigh and awoke. She had been merely in a trance. Returning to her home, she lived for many years after. This tale is sometimes told of Cotehele, an earlier seat of the family; but in any case it is one of those legends that have been told of many places, in England and abroad. Maker church tower was used as a signalling station during the French wars, in connection with another at Mount Wise; there is now a regular signal station at Rame Head. The lychgate and old font deserve attention. These heights, and especially the Mount Edgcumbe woodlands, suffered severely from the great blizzard of 1891, many of the finest trees being uprooted. At the foot of Maker heights are the twin villages of Kingsand and Cawsand, separated by a small brook; some of the houses, built across this, claim to be in both places at once. This provides one of the most frequent and popular trips of the Plymouth pleasure-steamers, and the picturesque spot, once haunted by smugglers, is now, during the summer months, a lively playground of the excursionist. It is said that Richmond, afterwards Henry VII., landed at this spot on his first attempt against Richard Crookback, his fleet having been scattered by a storm. Southward is Penlee Point, and westward Rame or Ram Head. This is the most southern point of East Cornwall, and the nearest land to Eddystone. There is an old saying—

      "When Dodman and Ram-head meet,"

      Dodman being the extreme point of Mevagissy Bay; and, as Ray tells us: "These are two forelands, well known to sailors, nigh twenty miles asunder, and the proverb passeth for the periphrasis of an impossibility." The Head, which is nearly insular, has a chapel dedicated to St. Michael on its summit. St. Michael was widely claimed as a patron of lofty and exposed places (such as the two St. Michael's Mounts); it was considered his especial function to disperse and set at naught all evil forces of tempest and thunderstorm. Rame Church, dating from the thirteenth century, is about a mile inland; it occupies the site of a still earlier building. Whitesand Bay (generally called Whitsand), which stretches westward towards Looe, has many memories of the past to offer those who, in summer, come hither in large numbers. It was here that Drake and Howard first confronted the Armada, after the memorable but possibly fabulous game of bowls. Whether the Spaniards intended making for Plymouth or no is not quite certain; but it is certain that the Englishmen intended to prevent them. It was in the early Sunday morning that the Spaniards first caught sight of the English fleet—the royal or official squadron under Lord Howard, the volunteers under Francis Drake. Displaying his consecrated standard, the Duke Medina endeavoured to interpose between the two sections of the opposing flotilla, thinking to destroy them separately at his ease; but he was readily circumvented in his design, finding to his cost that the English vessels could sail closer to the wind than his own, and could be manipulated more quickly, while their guns carried further. His cumbrous ships also were too much crowded with men, being fitter for transport than for action; the fighters were impeded by the press, and every effective shot from the enemy's guns found many victims. The English managed to keep at a distance while they delivered their raking broadsides, which, according to the Spanish notions, was against all principles of chivalrous sea warfare. But, as Froude says, "it was effective, it was perplexing, it was deadly." Drake and Howard did not wish to come to closer quarters with their formidable foes; a near embrace of those heavy galleons, fully manned with brave men, might soon have brought disaster; the struggle would have been too unequal. It is the art of the weaker to be elusive. The engagement lasted till late on Sunday afternoon, by which time the squadrons had drifted past Plymouth Sound. Not many hours later the Capitana, England's first prize, was being towed into Dartmouth harbour, giving a welcome booty in bullion and powder. The Armada had received a first blow, from which it never recovered; though recovery might yet have been possible if the winds had not fought for the English. The Spaniards' first taste of the West Country had probably satisfied them, but other death-traps lay to the eastward. The later story of the Armada belongs to distant Scottish and Irish coasts, whereon many of its finest vessels drifted; it is a story of calamity, blunder, and stubborn bravery; all the courage was not on one side of the conflict—perhaps the Spanish were as great in their failure as the English in their success.

      The shores of Whitesand Bay, though so beautiful, are treacherous both to the seaman and the bather; their beaches have often been strewn with wreckage. The Bay is fully exposed to south-westerly winds, which often hurl tremendous seas upon its coast, and many a good vessel has been driven to its destruction. There are shifting sands here also, which are the source of peril to unwary bathers; and it was at this spot that Mr. E. Spender, the founder of the Western Morning News, was drowned, with his two sons; a memorial marks the spot. But many parts of the extensive bay are perfectly safe, and there are several nooks that are becoming increasingly popular with visitors from Plymouth,