And solemnly charged me her body I'd lay

To sleep till it rose with my father's that day.

Her charge I've fulfill'd, and one grave doth contain

Those loved ones whom Christ will to life raise again.

I'll read it! I'll read it! though rude disrespect

The sceptic doth show it, and sinners neglect ;

It cleanses the fountains of sin and of strife,

And brightens the darkness that hangs over life;

The bitter it sweetens, and water makes wine,

And joyously fills me with hope all Divine:

For lo! the Good Spirit this Book makes His throne,

And blessings bestows, to the doubter unknown.

I'll meet them! I'll meet them! in mansions above,

My father! my mother! whom dearly I love:

Array'd in white robes, all their tears wip'd away,

No night to o'ershadow eternity's day; For ever united, we'll Jesus adore, Whose blood hath procured us a life

evermore;

Then anthems of glory with harps of pure gold

We'll sing as described in that Bible so old.

JOHN RANDERSON.

THE ISLES OF SCILLY.

BY B. A. GREGORY.

II.

THE great island of St. Mary's is, both in the number of its population and in general importance, equal to more than the half of Scilly. Tresco derives weight and dignity from the residence of the Lord Proprietor, but the opposite shore of the harbour is the real centre of the

group, for there is Hugh-Town, the capital and port of Scilly, insignificant in the eyes of one accustomed to wellpeopled districts, but, for all its smallness, really a town. Many a cluster of houses in England as large as Hugh-Town, yet ranks only as a village. But few

English cities are so truly and completely the head of the surrounding country, as is Hugh-Town of the isolated region in which it is placed. No large centre of industry and population overshadows the little metropolis, draws away its trade, or attracts its inhabitants from the place of their birth. It is the centre of the activity of Scilly-the seat of government, the market, the place of communication with the outer world. It contains the chief buildings devoted to public use, and the residences of the principal families. All meetings that concern the Islands generally are held there. The largest church is there, and VOL. XIX.-Second Series.

there is the head-quarters both of the Wesleyans and the Bible-Christians. The most intelligent and enterprising part of the Scillonians live there, and in all respects it is looked up to by the rest of the group as their leader and capital. It lies on the narrow isthmus of sand which connects the Garrison-Hill with the rest of St. Mary's. Two deep inlets-St. Mary's pool, toward the harbour, and Porcrasa, toward the outer sea-wash the two sides of the town. At either end of the isthmus rises a steep hill, at the foot of the easternmost of which is the church, and on the summit of the fortified peninsula to the west is the old Star Castle, a structure erected in the time of Queen Elizabeth, and now surrounded at some distance by the walls of the Georgian Garrison. Between the church and Porcrasa is an abrupt eminence, called Buzza Hill, on the top of which stands a strange-looking wind

B

*

mill of the Portuguese style. The tower of this building, a disused mill or two on the Garrison, and a fantastic signal-station further southward, form a line of prominent objects stretching from the Castle to the horizon along the circle of heights behind the town, and materially improve the distant view. To the north, the bold, bare rocks of Carn Thomas rise like a pyramid from the sea, and behind them is discerned a rounded ridge, capped with the low, thick ramparts of the oldest ruin in St. Mary's, a fort, abandoned before it was finished, that bears the name of Harry's or Haris's Walls, and dates from the time of Henry VIII. Yet it can scarcely be called the oldest erection in Scilly, for close to it is, not a building, but a solitary stone, some twelve feet high, that is plainly a monument of the longforgotten idolatry of pre-historic Britain. A singular remnant of the traditional awe which regarded it as in some sense enchanted, is still to be traced. The children of Scilly are told that this stone turns round when it hears the clock strike one, a story usually told, in places not provided with such objects of reverence, of the weathercock on the church steeple.

Hugh-Town consists mainly of a single long street, but at a short distance from Carn Thomas and the church it breaks into two arms. These unite in a sort of square, and thence the road leads you between two very irregular lines of houses to the quay. A few scattered gardens and dwellings climb the hill to the Garrison, where two or three guardhouses and rows of cottages form a sort of outlying part of the town. The quay used to be a very short projection into the space covered at high water, but of late years a new quay has been carried out to a little rock called Rat Island, and affords greater facilities for landing. Yet even here vessels are not quite independent of the tide. The "Little

Tresco Abbey, too, is older than Harry's Walls, and there are remains of British barrows both in Samson and St. Mary's.

Carn

Western" had often to lie-to off the pierhead, and land her passengers in boats. The harbour of St. Mary's, though of no great commercial value, is a beautiful piece of water, on which are cutters, smacks, and pleasure or fishing boats to add liveliness to the scene. One long beach stretches from the quay to Carn Thomas, fringed with houses so near the water that the tide commonly washes the door-steps of many of them, and occasionally invades all. Thomas partly hides from view the sandy bays of Porwellyn and Porthloe, beyond which the shore curves round with several rocky islands and promontories, till the noble mass of Carn Morval narrows the entrance to the pool, and shuts the prospect. Across the mouth lie three sunken rocks, which in a high sea make the harbour somewhat dangerous of access. Beyond them lies the true port of Scilly, the sea inclosed between St. Mary's and the three islands of Tresco, Bryher, and Samson. It is in these roads, especially toward Samson, that ocean-going vessels anchor, and it is for the improvement of this magnificent natural harbour that the breakwater across the great western opening is required. Such a work would convert a now exposed roadstead into a land-locked basin scarcely equalled by either Plymouth or Portland, and surpassed only by Milford Haven. Even in its present imperfect state, Scilly is, by reason of its commanding situation at the junction of the three channels, the third port of orders in the United Kingdom, Falmouth and Queenstown alone being more frequently visited by vessels that have still to learn their destination. Were it only a safer anchorage, it must become the most popular port of call and refuge in the English seas, because to most vessels very slightly if at all out of their course. Its importance was shown in the late war. More German ships were warned of the outbreak of hostilities from Scilly than from anywhere else. At one time as many as sixty war-bound German merchantmen lay in the roads.

The Scilly Islands are one of the most famous spots of the English coast in the terrible history of shipwrecks. It was on the rocks where the Bishop Lighthouse now stands, that the famous Sir Cloudesley Shovel, the only English admiral that ever rose from before the mast, met his fate. He is one of the chief figures of Scillonian tradition, and stories are told of him in the Islands which grave historians do not recognize. It is said, for instance, that as the squadron neared the English land, a seaman of the Admiral's ship, who had been born in Scilly, warned him that the course they were pursuing would bring them upon "the Bishop." The Admiral, connecting this interference with certain signs of a spirit of insubordination that had appeared in the fleet, ordered the expostulant to be hanged. In a few hours the unfortunate man's prediction was fulfilled, and four vessels of war, two thousand men, and the Admiral himself, were lost on these fearful western rocks. Sir Cloudesley, not yet quite dead, says the impossible tale, was washed ashore at Porthellick, one of the southern bays of St. Mary's, murdered by the person who found him lying there, and buried on the shore on a spot where to this day no grass will grow. From thence he was taken up to lie in Westminster Abbey. Some fifteen or twenty years ago, when the foundations of a house were dug on Rosevear, several skeletons were found, which were believed to be some of the victims of the great Admiral's infatuation. The house then being erected was designed for the residence of an engineer engaged in the building of a lighthouse on the scene of this the most terrible shipwreck in the annals of the British Navy. We have spoken of the magnificent column of the Bishop. There is perhaps scarcely a more solitary and isolated habitation in our Nine or ten miles of most dangerous navigation separate the nearest house from this narrow rock, so narrow that the base for the lighthouse had to be artificially extended. Yet four men

seas.

live within this hollow pillar, on whose outer wall beats a sea so tempestuous that often for many days together it is impossible to quit the lighthouse even for a boat. The light-keepers are relieved at intervals of a few weeks, and exchange their narrow quarters for comfortable houses on St. Mary's.

The wilderness of rocks that lies to the west of the Northern Islands, though it cannot boast so famous a catastrophe as its southern counterpart, is yet distinguished for one of the most fearful of recent wrecks. Scarcely a year ago, the "Delaware," one of the largest merchant steamers afloat, found herself caught by a gale on her way southward from Liverpool to Calcutta. The captain, confident of safety in the open sea, tried to force his way round the Scilly Isles to the ocean. The storm was too much for him, and drove the vessel towards Mincarlo, and the scarcely less formidable crags that surround it. The "Delaware" struck when not far from Samson, and immediately a huge mass of water fell from above upon her deck, and crushed the strong ship in a moment; while of the fifty souls on board, only two escaped to tell the tale. The boatmen of Bryher had hurried to Samson on the first news of the vessel's danger, but arrived in time only to help the mate and a single sailor to land, and to see one or two more perish hopelessly in the waves.

Such awful calamities even as these bring about most curiously results of a ludicrous kind. The name of "Delaware "in Scilly is associated not only with the ill-fated ship, but with the extraordinary application of a part of her cargo. She was laden, among other things, with several cases of magenta dye. A good deal of this, partly by lawful purchase, and partly, it is to be feared, by unlawful appropriation, came into the possession of the islanders. Consequently, brilliant neckties, handkerchiefs, cloaks, etc., coloured by amateur dyers, are a common sight; so much so, that the colour itself is known in Scilly, not as "magenta," but as "Delaware." One good lady, possessed of great ingenuity, and more dye than she

could easily use, employed it in the colouring of certain white fowls, whose gorgeous plumage, even after months of rain, still makes the stranger wonder at the Island breed. Several amusing tales are told of the way in which the dye was utilized by people who got hold of it without knowing what it was. One man, opening a tin to which the water had got, mistook the thick red substance for raspberry jam, and proceeded to cover his bread with it. He was prevented in time from eating the "jam," but he lost his bread. Another man, of similarly dull conscience on the subject of wrecked goods, found a dry tin, whose dark granular contents he supposed were gunpowder. So, desirous of securing the prize, and of eluding the salvage officers, he opened his shirt-bosom, and stuffed in between his skin and the linen as much powder as he could carry. Arrived at his home, he carefully deposited his burden in a dry place, safe from fire, and went to bed. But when he awoke in the morning, he found himself covered with a mysterious rash that had broken out all over his breast and back, to his very great alarm.

There is quite a legitimate way in which wrecks are a source of profit to the inhabitants of Scilly. The partially damaged cargo, if not worth the expense of transportation, is sold by auction in Hugh-Town, and some astonishing bargains are thus put within the reach of the Scillonians. I was told though of one occasion on which a damaged cargo of tea, which was not worth paying the duty on, and without the payment of duty could not be landed, was thrown into the sea before the eyes of the furious people.

Beside the shipping interest, there is in the large Islands a farming interest too. The farms are small, but carefully cultivated, the principal crop being, not wheat, but early potatoes for the London market. The mild, equable climate of Scilly enables it to raise the spring crop even before Penzance; and in a good season, considerable sums are transferred from London dealers to Scillonian farmers. But even then the profit of the

ground is not exhausted; the potato crop is so soon over, that a very good yield of turnips or mangolds can be obtained from the same soil before planting the potatoes again. This method of cultivation is found to pay so well, that corn is not grown in sufficient quantities even to supply the wants of Scilly itself. Seaweed is extensively used as manure, and this custom has a somewhat singular effect in making the farmers employ only very small carts-waggons are almost, if not quite, unknown. The chief occupation of these vehicles being to fetch seaweed from the shore, they are limited to such a size as a single rather small horse can pull when loaded through the deep sand.

Scilly contains several good orchards. The yield of apples is abundant, and in former days cyder used to be made. These orchards are a prominent feature in the landscape. Shelter is essential to the trees, and to gain it they are hedged round with a close-set line of elms or limes, so that the country is dotted over with oblong or square patches of hedge fifteen or sixteen feet high. Detached trees are scarcely anywhere to be seen.

St. Mary's consists of several ranges of low hills, inclosing two or three marshy valleys. Beside the capital, Old-Town and Holy-Vale are the largest groups of population, the former being a fairlysized hamlet. Several scattered farms, and two or three houses, bear names of their own, many of which preserve the strange sounds of the extinct Cornish tongue. Old-Town used to possess the one church of the island, but it has now only the burying-place, a fragment of the old sanctuary being left as a cemetery chapel. The coast of St. Mary's, especially to the south, is striking and picturesque. Deep Point, Dick's Carn, Giants' Castle, the Pulpit Rock, and Peninnis Point, are among the most magnificent and fantastic groups of cliff in Scilly. Inferior in height and massiveness to the Northern Islands, St. Mary's still contains many a beautiful landscape, and many an object of surpassing grandeur.

The most remarkable thing about the