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Dartmouth along the exquisite river-scenery of the English Rhine, the Dart-so named from its swiftness-the pride of South Devon. The moorsmen call it proudly "Dart ;" and say (with some truth, for it has few fords, and swells as rapidly as the Solway) that never a year passes but the river-spirits drown one victim.

"River of Dart, oh, river of Dart,

Every year thou claimest a heart."

The premonitory sign is the deepening blue of the water. "The cry," of the Dart is the loud sound which it raises at midnight. Spenser alludes to the primary cause of the decay of Dartmouth as a port.

Dart well nigh choaked with sands of tinny mines;

but in addition to the silting of the river, the choice of Plymouth by the bold adventurers of the reign of Elizabeth, transferred thither the larger portion of its trade. Dyer, in the Fleece, mentions the removal of the cloth trade, which caused great distress in these parts.

"The Dart and sullen Exe, whose murmuring wave

Envies the Dune and Rother, who have won

The serge and kersey to their branching streams."

The Dart rises under the tall granitic pillar of Cranmere, beside a pool planted by the earthquake, where the lost spirits wail at night; and chafing with rapids, sparkling in the sun, or shadowed by trees, winding, ever-varying, a gay inconstant stream, it is hastening onward the swifter where it seems most to linger. Leaving Totness, it flows under steep and dark rocky banks by Sharpham Park (R. Durant), which it sweeps by in a splendid curve: then rounding a headland, it washes the fair enclosures and undulating meadows of Stoke Gabriel and Maisonette (R. P. Hulme), when it widens under wooded slopes-hill and dale, cottage and hamlet, succeeding each other-by the rich woodlands of Dittisham, the echoing banks of Sandridge (Lord Cranstoun) till below, glassy and broad, like a lake, it reflects the lofty hills and shining limestone quarries behind

which rises Watton Court (H. Studdy).

Still downward by the trees of Greenway, the birthplace of stout Sir Humphrey Gilbert, and the home of Raleigh, skirting the anchor stone-where the gallant seaman smoked his pipe of Virginia, and mused of El Dorado-it expands into grandeur only to be lost in the foam and billows of the great sea in the bay of

DARTMOUTH,

Where is the most beautiful of coast scenes. The entrance of the river, and its opening to the sea, seem folded between the banks of an inland lake. These banks are the slopes of lofty hills, luxuriantly green; the lake is a magnificent bay, which will hold 500 sail. Within the harbourmouth, for the breadth of a mile, the town, rising with terraced streets and flights of steps, lies embosomed in trees, or is seen climbing the grand eminences, below which the quays and dockyards impart a seeming curvature to the strand. The harbour serves as a port of refuge during storms; and in winter-time, when the rivers of Holland and Germany are icebound, steamers and homeward-bound Dutch ships lie here. The town consisted formerly of three districts-Dartmouth, Clifton, and Hardness. The population in 1801 was 2398; in 1831, 4597; and in 1851, 4508. Since the fourteenth year of Edward III. the borough returned two members of Parliament, but only one since the Reform Bill. The exports are cider and barley; the imports, fruit, wine, oil, and salt from the Mediterranean. Dartmouth maintains a considerable trade with Newfoundland. The floating-bridge, established August, 1831, crosses the river, where it has a breadth of 1650 feet. The church of St. Saviour is cruciform, with many Decorated portions, a fine stone pulpit, carved misereres, a rich wooden screen, curious iron ornamental and scroll work on the great south door, and a brass of the fourteenth century to the memory of Sir John Hawley

and his two wives. The altar-piece is by Brockledon. The market-house was built 1825. In the Presbyterian kirk, the devout Flavell was buried in 1691. The picturesque gables, the quaint piazzas, the richly-carved fronts and overhanging stories of the houses of the old town are of the early part of the seventeenth century.

In 1190, the fleet of the Crusaders rode here at anchor; and while Cœur de Lion was fighting against Saladin, the French burned the town. King John visited the town, Oct. 15, 1214. In 1338, the sailors of Dartmouth took five French ships, and destroyed their crews, so that only nine men escaped across the Channel. In 1347, the port contributed thirty-one ships for the siege of Calais in 1377, their old enemy burned their houses over their ears. In 1403 the mariners of the Dart made reprisal by destroying forty sail upon the sea-board of France. In 1404, Sir William de Chatel, and the fiercest men of Normandy whom he could collect, came to carry fire and sword up the devoted valley; but the stout peasants and bravehearted women of Devon, fighting for life and honour, cut off the private soldiers to a man, and took prisoners the general, three barons, and twenty knights; while many others sank in their harness. The brother of Chatel, who had escaped, returned about a month after with 400 men; and having surprised and pillaged the town, continued during eight weeks to ravage the adjoining coast. From the harbour sailed the Duke of Clarence and the Earl of Warwick to Calais, and within four months returned with reinforcements, which landed here, at Plymouth, and at Exmouth. On Oct. 4, 1643, after a siege of a month, the town was compelled to surrender to Prince Maurice, but in 1646 was retaken by Fairfax. Newcomen, the engineer, was born here; and at Sandridge, Davis, the discoverer of the straits in North America which bear his name. On July 28, 1675, Charles Fitz-Charles was created Baron Dartmouth, and Viscount Totness; he died 1680. George Legge was raised to the peerage as Earl of Dartmouth, Sept. 5, 1711. At Townstall (half a mile) is St. Clement's church, with a tower 69 ft. high; it was garrisoned by the

Cavaliers for the king with ten guns and one hundred men. At a distance of 1 miles on the Totness road is the old camp of Woodbury Castle, and in the neighbourhood of Morleigh (six miles) are Stanborough and Blackdown Camps, the latter on the Kingsbridge Road.

On the south shore of the bay is Warfleet, with the ruins of the Old Castle and the tower of Paradise Fort, fronting which are Kingswear and the fort of Mount Ridley, upon the north shore; near the pretty estate of Brookhill (J. Devonport) is Kingswear Castle. From a fort at the north entrance of the bay a strong chain or boom was laid to Dartmouth Castle on the south side. Below the site fo an ancient castle, and under a cliff crowned by a fort called Gallant's Bower-which is surrounded by earlier fortifications - stands the parish church of Clifton, St. Petrock's, with a tower and spire that groups well with the fortifications on the sea-front. These are composed of two towers-one of them square and more recent, and the other circular, of the Tudor period-both standing on a level rock of glossy, purple mica slate. Two modern platforms, as advanced works, were mounted in the late war, with twelve long 18-pounders: a small fort on the north carried three 6-pounders. The name of Gallant's Bower occurs also at Clovelly. Like Robin Hood's Race or Shepherd's Ring at Snenton, Julian's Bower at Appleby and Aukborough, Julaber's grave at Chilham, and Troy Town, the name has exercised the ingenuity of antiquarians. Some refer it to the time of the Romans, when to double and wind in the maze made the limbs of the youth pliant; other authorities believe these spots to have been the places of midsummer sports at a more recent period; whilst others consider them like the maze at Winchester to have been cut in imitation of those mosaic pavements laid down in cathedrals, on which people were permitted to compound for the performance of an actual pilgrimage to the Holy Land. (See CANTERBURY, in Walcott's Cathedral Guide.) From this spot the bay presents a most striking scene when the pilchard shoals are chased in by the porpoises; or when they are betrayed by the ravenous

gulls and sea-birds hovering over a ruddy streak upon the sea; by the cry of the huer, or look-out men on the cliffs, and the motion of the gorse branches in their hands. Then every boat is launched, every net is cast for the capture; nor on the return of the little flotilla, when the fish are emptied into the boats from the seines under a calm bright moon, is the scene such as will soon fade from memory.

The road from Dartmouth, passing by Nethway House (J. H. Luttrell) and Lupton House (Lord Churston), after four miles of hills and descents, with fine views seaward, ends at

BRIXHAM,

A bustling fishing-town, close to the south horn of Torbay; employing 200 sail of trawlers, of an aggregate of 20,000 tons, and 1500 men. The stout boats and hardy crews of the Brixham boats are famous throughout the English and Bristol Channels. The manor of the lower town or quay was purchased by twelve of these hardy sailors many years since, so that by inheritance, or subdivision of shares, there are few upon the pier who do not challenge the title of a "Brixham lord." The church of St. Mary was built 1824; the public rooms were erected 1835; the breakwater commenced in 1843, and the pier in 1808. The town counted a population of 5627 in 1851. It had the inconvenience of sending its supplies of fish by water to Portsmouth, and thence by land to London; but the Great Western Railway now enables it to compete with the Sussex and Kentish fishermen. The Torbay sole was always eminent among gourmands. Quin actually travelled down to Bath expressly to taste the luxury fresh: on awaking next morning he was informed that the market had none, owing to a violent storm of the preceding day. He desired his servant to draw the curtains, and composed himself to sleep, in order that he might enjoy the delicacy on the morrow without feeling the pang of his

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