Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 681: January 13, 1877Various
History
Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 681: January 13, 1877
Various
Periodicals
Mr John Williams, landlord of the _Ship and Anchor_, Lleyrudrigg,
had not deceived the little minister and myself with regard to the
qualifications of his horse. It was a high-stepping thoroughbred;
and notwithstanding that the roads were heavy with the rain of the
previous day, we bowled along next morning at a famous rate on our
way to Twellryst. Clouds of a somewhat suspicious character floated
overhead, occasionally depriving us for a space of the sunshine, and
the wind was perhaps too high to be altogether agreeable. But on
the whole the weather was favourable; and enlivened by Mr Morgan's
instructive and cheerful conversation, the day's trip promised to prove
a pleasant one. For some time after leaving Lleyrudrigg we followed
the regular coach-road, which, though running for a little way on a
line with the coast, very soon turns inland. Then quitting it for one
upon which was much less traffic, we found ourselves, at the close of
three hours' quick driving, again coming within sight of the blue ocean
with its foam-flecked billows, and were told by Jonathan Williams, our
hunch-backed, sinister-looking little driver, that we were nearing the
Spike Rocks. The Spike Rocks! how I shudder at the bare mention of
that name, recalling as it does---- But I will not anticipate. Drawing
up before a five-barred gate which led into an extensive piece of
meadow-land bordering the shore and, as I afterwards found, crowning
precipices which for nearly a mile in length descended in sheer walls
to the sea, Jonathan rose in his seat, and pointed out with his whip
the two rocks which we had come hither to visit. They stood at some
distance from the land--small, conical-shaped islands, bleak and
sharp-pointed--their interest consisting, as we had been told, in
their being a peculiarly favourite resort of a species of sea-bird. At
certain seasons of the year, of which the present was one, the birds
would collect here in thousands, covering the rocks from base to summit
with a compact living mantle of whity-brown feathers. From the point at
which our carriage stopped, however, the rocks were too far away for
their clothing to be clearly visible; and we accordingly set off for a
nearer inspection, warned by a shout from our driver, when we had taken
a few steps, to beware of the 'Devil's Holes.' (So Mr Morgan translated
the barbarous-sounding Welsh word he used.) 'Devil's Holes! Why, what
can _they_ be?' I inquired. But my companion was no wiser with regard
to the matter than myself, as he confessed with a shake of the head; so
we walked on, trusting to our observation for enlightenment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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