NANCHERROW VALLEY.

51

numerous stamping mills to which it gives motion; till, by the time it reaches its destination, it becomes so turbid as to stain the sea, for a considerable space, around the place of its immersion into the ocean. Neither, in following this stream, will the amateur of the rod and fly observe a single trout, sporting its merry gambols; nor will any shady foliage, hanging over its banks, obstruct the view of the painter; but he may exercise his pencil in sketching the picturesque and ever-varying wheels and machinery of the rudely-built stamping mills and corn mills, to which this busy stream gives life. The character of this valley, from the point a little below Nancherrow Bridge to the sea, is unique, and very striking, and the view of Cape Cornwall, as it opens to the to the eye, is singularly beautiful, as the pencil of Mr. J. E. Buller, to whom I am indebted for the drawing here seen, attests.

The cliffs of this coast, to which we now approach, are of a moderate height, about 200 feet; broken, generally precipitous, and intersected by deep valleys. To the south of Cape Cornwall they are of granite; to the north they are slate. But they equally afford a feast to the admirer of wild grand rocky scenery. The stranger when he first visits them cannot fail to be gratified with the extensive view from the summit of Carnglôs (the grey rock), he will muse—

"Where rocks of the ocean

In solemn and majestic grandeur rise."

Here seaward let the orb of vision range!
Dissevered from their parent cliffs, observe

Yon Brisons,' like twin-born sisters join'd
With links of adamant; where black cormorants
Dressing their oily plumage in the sun

Repose; and laughing sea gulls float aloft
Watching with care their half-fledg'd progeny.
Dark traditionary tales of woe,

Of pris'ners chain'd, and native freedom lost,
The deeds of ancient days, these rocks suggest.
Far in the distant west are faintly seen
The hazy greek-named Cassiterides,
Whose steadily revolving midnight light
Hails old England's rich treasure-laden barks,
And bids the watchful mariner beware!
The mid-day sun will point its dazzling rays
On Longships' column, a lofty beacon
On Carn Brâs and Tal-y-mean erected;
Lest he, from frightful Scilly's rocks escap'd
On still more treacherous Corinna strike.
Land-ward behold the face of Pedn-mên-dua
Proudly frowning on the rolling billows
That wash the shores of dark Bolerium5;
Beneath whose toppling cliffs stands sentinel
The Sea-girt Knight, with veteran armour clad.
This marks the termination of the land,

Where waves Atlantic burst their foaming rage,
And dear Cornubia greets the western gale.

Here the wanderer may be tempted to linger on till, as the poet beautifully sings:

1. Brisons. The name of two detached rocks: they are sometimes called the Sisters. Brison in the Cornish language means a prison, and for this purpose tradition says they were anciently used.

2. Carn Brâs and Tal-y-mean. The great carn and the high rock.

3. Corinna. Pars Corinea detur Corineo, de duce nomen Patria, deque viro Gens Corinensis habet.

Cornwall by grant to Corinæus came

The Country from the Prince received its name.

4. Pedn-men-du. The black rock headland.

5. Bolerium. The Roman name for the promontory of the Land's End.

6. The Sea-girt Knight. A rock called the "Armed Knight."

BOTALLACK AND LEVANT MINES.

53

"Low walks the sun and broadens by degrees
Just o'er the verge of day. The shifting clouds
Assembled gay, a richly gorgeous train

In all their pomp attend his setting throne.
Air, earth, and ocean, smile immense. And now,
As if his weary chariot sought the bowers
Of Amphitrite and her tending nymphs
(So Grecian fable sang), he dips his orb;
Now half immersed, and now a golden curve
Gives one bright glance, then total disappears."
But still, as if reluctant to depart,

Leaves lingering mottled crimson streaks behind.
O sight sublime!

But if the enjoyment of the tranquil or stormy scenes of nature: if the charms afforded by the picturesque and romantic piles of broken rocks, like spires and turrets peering above ruined buttresses, casting lights and shades, inimitable by the art of the most skilful painter, be less the object of the visitor than the busy works of industrious man, he may proceed to the mines of Botallack and Levant, both worked for a considerable distance beneath the bed of the ocean. The miner, particularly in stormy weather, distinctly hears the awful grandeur of the rounded boulders rolling over his head as they are driven forwards and backwards by the force of the coming and receding waves. Some of the machinery of the latter mine hangs suspended high in the air over the sea. Here the scene is all life and animation; the busy miners are seen either ascending or descending the narrow paths, which wind around the face of the tempest-beaten cliff, covered with broken stones, appearing as if they had been rejected and vomited forth from the bowels of the

earth. Being the hour of relief, one set or pair (in the technical language of the miners) of brawny athletic Cornishmen enter their little huts to change their ordinary dress for the flannel shirt, the loose hemp-ties shoes, and the round ball-proof skull cap to defend their heads from falling stones. With their apportioned allowance of candles suspended to the button-hole of their dress to light the dark paths they are about to excavate in search of hidden treasure, more than 200 fathoms below the surface of the earth. They enter the shaft and presently disappear, descending perpendicular ladders, stage under stage, till they reach the treasured lode. Here they supply the place of others, who, having completed their term of labour, generally about eight hours, are languidly creeping up the steep ascent, panting for breath and refreshing air, with countenances pallid, skin covered with perspiration, and their hands and garments saturated with red ochrous distillations. Straightly they proceed to wash themselves in the warm water which is amply supplied from the engine house, and in a few minutes are seen again, perfectly changed in appearance, wending their way to their respective homes to recruit their strength and spirits with their frugal meal of fish, potatoes, and tea, and to enjoy that repose of which the routine of labour had deprived them during the preceding night. But a few years back the miners, after ascending from their under-ground toil, were much in the habit of indulging in the use of spirits and beer, which, instead of assuaging thirst, only produced fever and tended to shorten their lives. They are now much more temperate and more healthy.

But few men