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by far the most distinguished ornament of the town. When the church was first built is not known; but a considerable portion of the present building was erected in 1424. This event was recorded in an inscription placed beneath the battlements, but many of the letters are now defaced, and the only legible words are the following:

Pray for the good estate of all the townshepe of Chelmysford that hath been liberal willers and procorers of helpers to thys worke; and for . . . . them that first began, and longest shell contenowe .. it. in the year of our

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Lord 1. thousand 1111. hundreth xxIII. The length of the inside of the church is one hundred and twenty feet, and of the nave one hundred and two feet the greatest breadth is fifty-four feet.

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When the churches of Essex, (says Mr. Wright, in his excellent history of that county,) underwent a visitation, in the year 1634, numerous escutcheons, and banners and coats of arms were found in the roof of the centre aisle, among which were the arms of Edward the Confessor, and of various great men who had been liberal contributors towards the building; these were taken away at that time as emblems of superstition. The eastern window is of painted or stained glass of modern workmanship; it occupies the place of an ancient master-piece of art, believed to have been as old as the original foundation of the church. The subject was the history of Our Saviour, from his birth hibited might well have preserved it from destruction, except by the hands of ignorance and fanaticism.

to his ascension; and the sublime and pathetic scenes it ex

Such, however, was not the case: the mistaken zeal of that age professed to quarrel with everything that savoured of an episcopal or state form of worship. In 1641, the Puritan parliament issued an ordinance, by which all "scandalous pictures" should be removed from churches, and this beautiful window was doomed to destruction. The rector and churchwardens, however unwilling to deprive the church of such an ornament, were forced to comply, and they removed most of the painted subjects from the window, and replaced them with new glass. But the mob, acting from the violent impulses which so often influence assemblies of uneducated persons, were not satisfied with this, and proceeded to beat down and deface the whole of this beautiful window, by attacking it with stones, sticks, and other weapons.

Part of the body of the church is modern, and was erected to supply the place of the ancient walls which partly fell down in January, 1800: in the repairs, the ancient style of the building was tolerably well preserved, but the inside was modernized and elegantly finished; and the church was re-opened in September, 1803. A massive square tower rises from the west end of the church, with battlements and pinnacles at the four corners; and on the top is a lantern, with a shaft :-the tower contains a peal of ten bells.

There are a county gaol, and a house of correction, near the town. The former comprises different compartments for the classification of prisoners; in the front is the gaoler's house, and within the walls an infirmary and chapel; the prisoners are employed in various kinds of work, the profits of which are applied towards the support of the establishment. A house of correction, built in 1806, is now only used for convicted female prisoners, its former office being now filled by the new couse of correction. This latter building is capable of containing 254 prisoners, of whom 218 may be confined in separate cells. It comprises seven distinct ranges of building, radiating from a spacious area, comprehending with the site of the buildings nearly nine acres, in the centre of which is the governor's house, including a neat chapel, and commanding a view of fourteen court-yards or areas for the proper classification of the prisoners. In eight of these yards are tread-wheels, furnishing labour for

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213 persons at one time; in two others are capstans, and in one a windlass and machinery for raising water; there are fourteen day-rooms, two of which are used as workshops for shoe-makers; eight store-rooms, one of which is used as a work-room for tailors; an infirmary, a lazaretto, a bath, and other offices. Two of the tread-wheels are attached to a mill which

grinds corn for the use of this prison, the county gaol, and the house of correction at Barking.

Chelmsford, although a considerable place with respect to county influence, has not the privilege of sending members to parliament.

The town is favourably distinguished by the liberal extent to which its inhabitants support charitable institutions for the relief of the needy and afflicted.

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THOSE persons who live in the neighbourhood of a rookery, and have paid any attention to the pursuits of the busy community therein; who have watched the patient industry of its inhabitants, their love of justice, their habits of order and regularity, their attachment to their home, the punishment of offenders against their established laws and customs; with the amicable intercourse which appears to be kept up amongst them by means of messengers dispatched from nest to nest;-such persons will readily agree with us, that many a good and useful lesson, and many a virtue necessary to be practised by ourselves, may be learned from them, if we are not too proud to notice such instructors. The incessant cawings, and apparent contentions among these birds during the time in which they are occupied with the preparation of their nests, may have given them the character of a noisy and quarrelsome race; but we feel inclined to defend them from this charge, and to assert that the contests observed at this period arise generally, if not wholly, from the disposition of the younger pairs to encroach upon the rights and privileges of the older rooks; which disposition is checked and punished by the unanimous voice of their seniors; and thus a clamour and outcry are raised, as of general war.

The rook has been named by Linnæus, Corvus frugilegus, or corn-gatherer, as the latter word implies; its plumage is of a fine glossy black, while the sides of the head and neck are of a very rich blue. The beak is straight, and the skin which surrounds it is of a light gray colour: this skin is covered with hairs in the young bird; but in the old, the hairs are exchanged for a scaly kind of coating. This seems to be a natural habit of the bird; though it is accounted for by some naturalists, on the supposition that the constant digging for food gradually wears away the hairy covering which the young birds possess: other creatures, however, dig as laboriously as they do, and without injury to the fur or feathers with which they may be clothed; so that we can scarcely suppose the rook to suffer from its exertion in this respect. The length of a full grown rook is about nineteen inches, and the width across the wings thirty-eight inches. The weight is generally about nineteen ounces.

The character of the rook is that of a cheerful, industrious, early-rising bird: that man is a most industrious one who can get to his work before him; for he is up with the early dawn, and off to the newly

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In a hot and dry season, it frequently happens that the young birds perish with hunger: not all the labours of the parent birds, nor the plundering habits they then acquire being adequate to the supply of their necessities.

ploughed fields, uttering his noisy song as he goes. He is however scarcely satisfied till the teams are a-field, and seems by his impatient cawing to reprove the delay of the rustic; but when they are once arrived, and have begun their accustomed task, he is not slow or shy of aiding them to the utmost of his power. The perseverance and unceasing industry of the rook Fearlessly and indefatigably he follows the plough, furnish a useful lesson, and one which may be easily picking up the grubs and worms with avidity, and read, where rooks abound as they do in this country. thus rendering an essential service to the farmer; but But its untiring activity is chiefly remarkable in the his services in this way are not confined to the plough- construction of its nest. It is well known that of all ing-season. When the young wheat is springing up, the trees of the forest and grove the elm is the rook's and when it presents to the inexperienced eye, an uni- favourite; on its lofty branches he prefers to build; form healthy appearance, the sagacious rook by some and though he has been known to make his dwelling wonderful instinct beyond our comprehension, is in the oak, whose wide and branching head affords sure to detect a great number of unhealthy blades, like facilities for the erection of his little "wicker at the root of each of which the grub of the cock- castle," yet it is by no means usual that he should chafer, or of some other injurious earth-caterpillar, seek any other accommodation for his future brood is carrying on its work of destruction. Upon these than that which is afforded by the ample summit of larvæ he feeds; and it is quite certain that he prefers an his favourite tree. But it is not every tree in an insect diet to any other, however the calls of hunger may avenue of elms that will suit the rook's purpose. sometimes urge him to seek for other means of sub- Notwithstanding the eagerness and restlessness of sistence. We cannot deny that, in very hot summers, character which he displays in his ordinary work, he or in very severe winters, when few insects can be does not rashly choose the home of his future family. found, the rook is a corn-eater, and also a great enemy Accompanied by his mate he carefully surveys one to a newly-set potatoe-crop, but this he is not from tree after another, minutely inspecting the different preference, but from necessity. When all other means branches, with an air of extreme caution; and this fail, and the ground is hardened by frost, or by a long not for a few hours, but for many days. When the continuance of dry weather, there is no other resource most convenient branch is at length selected, the for these famished birds: we have seen them at such young pair sit patiently on it for two days longer, times literally covering the sides of a wheat-rick, and apparently deliberating on its fitness for their purpose, using all their strength in endeavouring to pull out the and observing in what way it is affected by the winds ears of corn. They would not eat grain in this state and weather. Thus, having taken every precaution unless impelled by hunger to do so; for they are found to ensure the safety of their future progeny, they begin by those who have tamed them, and have made the to gather materials for their nest, such as sticks and trial, to reject it, except after long fasting, and to fibrous roots, which they arrange in the most subshow no regard for corn, except such as has undergone stantial manner. But it may happen that on an adthe malting process. The question has often been joining branch there lives an older pair; and as the asked, "Is the farmer a gainer or a loser by these young couple soon grow weary of fetching materials birds?" Without attempting to maintain that the rook from a distance, and begin to supply themselves from does little or no mischief, we are yet of opinion the neighbouring nests, their company is by no means that the insects he lives on would do much more. desired, and the senior birds, both in punishment of From its sometimes eating grains and other seeds (says the theft and to get rid of their troublesome neighSelby) the rook has been erroneously viewed in the light of bours, begin an attack on the half-formed nest, and an enemy by most husbandmen; and in several districts, soon succeed in its demolition. The young pair, little attempts have been made either to banish it or to extirpate discouraged by this disaster, immediately set about the breed. But wherever this measure has been carried into effect, the most serious injury to the corn and other the choice of another branch; and having found by crops has invariably followed, from the unchecked devasta- experience that "honesty is the best policy," they no tions of the grub and caterpillar. As experience is the sure longer molest the other birds, but patiently collect the test of utility, a change of conduct has, in consequence, requisite supply of materials from the surrounding been partially adopted, and some farmers now find the en- fields and hedges; and in order to guard against the couragement of the breed of rooks to be greatly to their in- thievish propensities of other young beginners, who, terest, in freeing their lands from the grub of the cock-like themselves, are at first anxious to furnish their chafer, (Melolontha vulgaris) an insect very abundant in the southern counties. In Northumberland it is of great use in feeding on the larvae of the insect commonly known by the name of Harry Longlegs (Tipula oleracea) which is particularly destructive to grain and young clover.

In severe weather, especially after a heavy fall of snow, rooks frequent the sea-shore, where they feed on small sea-fish, particularly the common muscle. In order to break the shell of this fish, the clever bird flies aloft with it to a height of about fifty feet, and then lets it fall on a rocky place, and quickly descends for his prey. If he be not successful in breaking the shell at once, he will try again and again, till he has accomplished his purpose; and this he has much difficulty in doing when the wind is high and the shell is carried out of its proper direction.

The patience and assiduity of these birds are put to a severe test during the nesting season. They have often to make long excursions in order to procure food for their young, and with all their industry they can scarcely appease the cravings of five young birds, who will readily devour their own weight of food in a single

nests with as little trouble as possible, they separate; and while one flies to fetch materials, the other remains to watch over them, and to drive away approaching pilferers. A commodious nest being now prepared, and duly furnished with a lining of soft grass, the female begins to lay her eggs, and from that instant hostilities are at an end; no thief will now venture to molest her, and she is allowed to rear her young brood in tranquillity and peace. During this season she is never long absent from her nest; the male bird brings food to her as well as to the young ones, until the latter are old enough to be left without danger, when both parents are employed in supplying their wants. When the young birds are fledged, and have left the nest, the parents no longer retain any remembrance of or affection towards them; the old birds keep possession of the same nest during succeeding seasons, returning to it in the autumn, apparently for the purpose of repairing it and strengthening it to bear the winter's storms, and in the following spring they make the necessary preparations for rear

ing another family. The birds which were hatched the preceding year are in the mean time preparing their nests in the same rookery, or they have joined a body of emigrants to another grove. To attempt an entrance to another rookery would be to them a vain and fruitless proceeding; for friendly and social as the rooks are to birds of their own community, they all unite to prevent the entrance of another rook into their society, and to punish with due severity the unwelcome intruder.

We know not the motives which lead a body of rooks to emigrate from their homes: perhaps the community has increased to an inconvenient extent, and they find it necessary to seek another neighbourhood, where the supply of their wants may be more certain: perhaps they like not the chastisement they are continually receiving from the older rooks, and determine to seek an unmolested spot, where, if they have not the advantage of pilfering the materials for their nest, they may at least get a better chance of finishing it in peace. However this may be, we soon observe in these emigrants the same attachment to their newly found home which they had previously evinced for their native dwelling,-the same orderly habits are prevalent, the same laws of justice enforced, with the same watchfulness against intrusion and interference on the part of others.

race of birds who have fearlessly assembled near our dwellings, and whose labours are of such essential service to the agriculturist. There is something very cowardly too, in attacking a creature which can neither defend itself nor seek safety in flight. It is affirmed by some naturalists that were the cruel practice of shooting the young birds altogether discontinued, there would be no sensible increase in the number of nests in a rookery; for, when the birds found themselves too numerous in one society, they would quickly form another, and emigrate to some distant spot, for the purpose of selecting a more commodious dwelling. If this be the case, we may surely hope to find the custom of rook shooting gradually abandoned, for no one would follow so cruel a sport for the mere pleasure afforded by it, unconnected with the advantage of keeping down the number of the birds. The flesh of the rook is bitter and unfit for food, and though the young birds are sometimes eaten, they offer little attraction to the sportsman on this account; the usual method of placing them at table is in the form of a pasty, (for which purpose the rooks are skinned, in order to remove in some measure the bitter flavour peculiar to them,) but even in this form they make but a sorry dish, and are generally despised. When therefore the advantages connected with the increase of There is something very pleasing in the considera-rooks are properly understood, the farmer will doubttion of the social tie which unites these sagacious birds into one community: a friendly feeling is manifested throughout the society; if a fraud be committed on one, all the rest are ready to unite in the punishment of the offender; if the rooks are feeding in parties, one of their number always stands sentinel, and so vigilant is he in the performance of this duty that it is no easy matter to get, within shot of a foraging party hence the country people affirm that rooks can smell gunpowder. In addition to these marks of social feeling, we observe that amicable messages appear to be constantly passing in a rookery; and as there is little doubt of birds being able to communicate intelligence in their own peculiar manner, we may fairly suppose that these messages convey to the several members of the community such tidings as have reference to their united welfare.

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After the young rooks have taken the wing, there is a general desertion of the nesting-trees; but the families return to them frequently; and in October they roost in them and repair their old dwellings. In winter the forest may be called their habitation; but, instead of forgetting their nests, they visit them every day, and, cawing in a softened and melancholy tone, seem to regret the ravages which a bleak and stormy season has made in their beloved home. Thus, from year to year, the rook is an inhabitant of our country, and joins, not inharmoniously, in the softer music of our groves; while in many other countries he is only a visitant, announcing to the inhabitants of Siberia the return of summer, and to those of France the approach of their winter season. The rook is found as far north as the milder parts of Sweden, but he is soon driven from thence by the severity of the winter. In their emigration they assemble in flights so dease as to darken the air; and on this occasion they have no objection to join company with the common crow, the jackdaw, and the starling.

In extensive rookeries it is thought necessary to thin their numbers by shooting many of the young rooks every season. The time chosen for this purpose is when the birds have left their nest, but remain on the branches, unable to fly far from their homes. The diversion, if it can be called such, seems a very poor and unworthy one, exercised as it is against a

less be found protecting instead of maiming and destroying the young progeny.

We feel quite certain (says Bishop Stanley, in his very pleasing and useful little work on Birds,) that on striking a fair balance, the advantage will be in favour of preserving the rooks; and that if every nest were pulled to pieces, the farmers would soon do all in their power to induce the old birds to rebuild them; finding out, when too late, that their

crops might suffer the fate wifich befell an entire district in Germany, and which was once nearly deprived of its corn harvest, by an order to kill the rooks having been generally obeyed; the immediate consequence being an increase of grubs and their depredations. For allowing that the rook may do an occasional injury to the husbandman, it confers benefits in a far greater proportion, and to an extent of which few are aware. Many provinces in France were so ravaged by grubs, that a premium was offered by government for the best mode of ensuring their destruction, and and yet singularly enough, so little were the people acquainted with the real and best method of stopping the mischief that when the Revolution broke out, accompanied with murder and bloodshed which can never be forgotten, the country people, amongst other causes of dissatisfaction rookeries near their houses; and in one instance, a mob with their superiors, alleged their being fond of having of these misguided and ignorant people, proceeded to the residence of the principal gentleman in their neighbourhood, from whence they dragged him, and hung his body on a gibbet, after which they attacked the rookery, and continued to shoot the rooks amidst loud acclamationst.

In concluding our account of rooks in their social state, as they dwell in large communities in groves or avenues of lofty elms, we would recommend to the attention of our readers some of the good and valuable habits of these birds. Their early hours, their unceasing industry, their perseverance in overcoming difficulties, and their love of home, are not unworthy of our imitation. Let the sight of a rookery, then, remind us of our duties in these respects, and the busy, cheerful, noisy community will not exist for us

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THE BANKS OF THE TAMAR. I. THERE are but few rivers in England more celebrated for romantic and beautiful scenery than the Tamar. This river forms, nearly throughout its whole extent, the boundary between the counties of Devon and Cornwall, the former occupying the eastern, and the latter the western bank. It rises in the parish of Morwinstow, near the northern extremity of Cornwall. Soon after this it becomes the boundary between the two counties, and continues so, with very little interruption, for the remainder of its course, a distance of about forty miles. In the parish of Werrington it has Devonshire on both banks, and the village of Werrington on its western side. The Werrington river, which rises near Tremaine, runs through Werrington Park, and falls into the Tamar near the upper new bridge. On the east side of the Tamar, near the river, are the Devonshire parishes of Pancrasweek, Bridgerule, Tetcot, Luffincot, St. Giles on the Heath, Lifton, Bradstone, Dunterton, Milton Abbot, Sydenham, Beer Ferrers, Tamerton Folist, and St. Budeaux. The Tamar becomes a wide estuary near Beer Alston, and further on, below Saltash, which is on the Cornwall side, forms the harbour of Hamoaze, falling into Cawsand Bay, between Mount Edgecumbe on the Cornish side, and Stonehouse on that of Devonshire. The smaller rivers which fall into the Tamar, besides the Werrington, are the Wick, the Derle, the Deer, the Cary, the Claw, the Lyd, and the Tavy.

The source of the river is a small spring rising very near the Bristol Channel, but instead of flowing northVOL. XVI.

ward, the few miles necessary to reach that channel, the river flows nearly in a southern direction. The early. portion of its course is not so much distinguished for its beauty as the latter portion; and we may pass over it until we come to the neighbourhood of Werrington. Werrington is the name of a parish, of a town, and of a seat belonging to the Duke of Northumberland. The seat is on the western side of the river, and was formerly possessed by a Sir Francis Drake, who sold it, in 1651, to Sir William Morrice, a kinsman of General Monk. These gentlemen were very active in forwarding the Restoration of Charles the Second, on whose landing at Dover, Mr. Morrice received the honour of knighthood. He was afterwards appointed secretary of state; but preferring the quiet of country retirement, he withdrew to Werrington in 1668, where he built a handsome library. He died in 1676. A descendant of this gentleman sold Werrington to the Duke of Northum berland. The situation of this mansion is very beautiful, commanding a richly diversified and expansive view of a well wooded park, with the river close at hand, and the Dartmoor hills in the distance. The river next passes not far from the town of Launceston, the county town for Cornwall. This town is distinguished for its castle, a structure whose mouldering walls enclose a large extent of ground. The principal entrance was from the south-west, through a fortified passage upwards of a hundred feet in length, and ten in width. The court of the castle was a square of 136 yards, in the south-west angle of which was a very strong round tower, from whence a terrace proceeded to the keep or citadel. This keep

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was an immense artificial conical hill, nearly ninety feet in perpendicular height, about three hundred feet in diameter at its base, and ninety-three at its summit. The walls surrounding the castle court were of immense. thickness. This castle is supposed to have been built by William Earl of Moreton and Cornwall, in the reign of William the Conqueror. As our present object is more the banks of the Tamar than the towns near it, we shall pass on now without further notice of Launceston.

equally attracting. On leaving a neighbouring down, a narrow track leads through a copse to the summit of the cliffs. This gradual ascent to a great height makes the traveller scarcely prepared for the scene now presented to his view. The winding river is seen far beneath, and the surrounding prospect includes Calstock Church, Hengeston Down, and the mining district of Gunnis Lake. There is one particular rock called the Chimney Rock, which is mounted by the assistance of a flight of rude steps. Beneath this rock the river is for a time invisible, as it flows through a short natural tunnel. Mr. H. E. Carrington, the son (we believe) of the poet, thus speaks of the scene which presents itself to a spectator mounted on the rock :—

The repose of the scene is most interesting-undisturbed, except by the whisperings of the breeze, the scream of a lonely hawk,-or the faint note of some woodland chorister. At an immense distance below the rude platform on which you stand is an extensive expanse of wood,-a perfect forest, stretching from the top of the slope to its base, and thence across the whole extent of level land on the eastern bank of the Tamar. Looking southward, you behold the river, winding away amid flat meadows, backed by the lofty ridge on which stands the exposed church of Calstock. On the left bank is a continuation of the Morwell wood, divided from the river by one solitary strip of rich meadow. strike the eye by their peculiar neatness and air of deep The many sequestered cottages which are scattered around seclusion. The base of a part of the wooded precipice on the Morwell side is washed by the Tamar, which here makes a sudden bend round a forest-like peninsula. One cliff rises perpendicularly from the water, a fearfully impending mass it is when gazed at from below, though, into comparative insignificance; but if a boat or barge when viewed from the rugged elevations above, it dwindles happen to float along at its foot, you gain an idea of its true magnitude.

After passing at no great distance from Lifton, Bradstone, and Dunterton, the Tamar enters the beautiful grounds of the Duke of Bedford, at Endsleigh Cottage, Milton Abbot. This used to be called Inneslegh, and was an ancient possession of the Abbots of Tavistock, who had a park here in the reign of Richard the Second, and to whom it had been granted by the family of the Edgecumbes. After the dissolution of monasteries, all the estates of the Abbey of Tavistock fell into the hands of the Russells, Dukes of Bedford, who have retained possession ever since. The estate runs on both sides of the Tamar, and in 1810 the noble possessor began the erection of a sweetly picturesque cottage, under the management of the late Sir Jeffrey Wyatville. The grounds are entered by a rustic lodge; and a carriage road leads through the plantations and lawn to the cottage, the gabled roofs, tall chimneys, and transom windows of which, remind the spectator of the mansion of past ages. It stands upon a pleasant slope, descending to the banks of the Tamar. In the grounds is a grotto, commanding a view of the woods and meadows on the river's bank, and also of a floating bridge, managed by a rope and windlass. The woods in the neighbourhood rise in very picturesque form from the water's edge, and are pierced by ascending walks, one Near this spot is Morwell House, formerly the of which leads to a little building called the Swiss hunting seat of the Abbots of Tavistock: from its cottage, a picturesque edifice in the midst of a sort of situation near Morwell Down, and the woods on the Alpine garden. An exterior staircase and gallery banks of the Tamar, it is considered to have been lead to the upper apartments, which are furnished, in well situated for this purpose. The building is quadthe Swiss fashion, with wooden chairs and platters,rangular, with a large arched gateway in front, ornahorn spoons, &c. From the gallery of this cottage an extensive view is obtained over the river, woodlands, and open downs. At no great distance are seen rocks, woods, abrupt declivities, and the river foaming over rude masses of stone,-forming altogether a highly beautiful prospect.

After passing near Sydenham, the Tamar arrives at Weirhead, where it first begins to be navigable. At this point the waters of the Tamar fall over a ledge of rocks in a rapid and sparkling cascade. When the stream of the Tamar has been swelled by heavy rains, this fall is highly picturesque.

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The gentle Tamar: leading on his flood,
Swelled by auxiliar streams, he strays awhile
Amid the lawns of Werrington, and laves
Thy ancient walls, Launceston. Thence, in deep
And silent course he seeks thy leaf-clad bridge,
Romantic Greystone, murmuring gently through
Thy ivied arches. With the ocean tide,
Seeking proud union then, the tranquil flood
Rolls on, till smoothly, musically, leaps
The bright, descending river o'er the Weir.

CARRINGTON.

It is customary for pleasure parties to take a trip up the river, from Plymouth and Devonport to Weirhead, the whole distance presenting scenes of great beauty.

Near the Weirhead is a spot which has acquired great celebrity as the Morwell rocks, from the lovely prospect, and picturesque situation. These rocks rise several hundred feet from the river, and whether viewed from below, or the surrounding scenery viewed from the summit of the rock, the scene is

mented in a similar manner to those of the Abbey.

Below Morwell rocks, the Tamar skirts Harewood Peninsula, a little tract of land so nearly surrounded by the river, that after leaving Calstock Church, and sailing five miles, the traveller again arrives at. Calstock village. On this tongue of land is situated Harewood House, which occupies a site traditionally connected with an event in the early history of England; we mean the story of Athelwold and Elfrida, which has formed a theme for more than one of our poets. The outline of the story seems to be this:-King Edgar, having heard of the beauty of Elfrida, daughter of Ordgar, Earl of Devonshire, sent his favourite Athelwold, to ascertain how far report. was borne out by the real attractions of the lady. The messenger,—as has happened in more than one similar instance, no sooner saw her, than he fell desperately in love with her: he made an offer of his hand, was accepted, and the nuptials were performed privately. On returning to court, he took care to lower as much as possible the reputed charms of Elfrida, and succeeded in weaning the thoughts of the king from her. Wishing afterwards, however, to make his marriage known, he entreated permission from the king to pay his addresses to Elfrida, on the plea that though she was not worthy of her king, her large fortune would be an advantage to him, Athelwold. The consent was given, and the pair were publicly married, Athelwold, however, carefully keeping his wife from court. The secret was some time afterwards revealed to the king, and he resolved on revenge, for the deceit of his favourite. He proposed a visit to

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