The immense height of the cliffs on which these ruins are situated, the desolated aspect of the surrounding country, and the grandeur of the ocean raging beneath, all conspire to form a scene truly sublime, and cannot fail to make a lasting impression on the mind of those who have visited this interesting spot. O’er Cornwall’s cliffs the tempests roar’d, High the screaming Sea Mew soar’d On Tintagel’s topmast tow’r, Darksome fell the sleety show’r, Round the rough Castle shrilly sung The whistling blast, and wildly flung On each tall rampart’s thund’ring side The surges of the trembling tide. When Arthur rang’d his red-cross ranks, On conscious Camban’s crimson banks, By Mordred’s faithless guide decreed, Beneath a Saxon spear to bleed! _Wharton’s Poems, p. 95._ After the Conquest, Tintagell Castle became the occasional residence of several of our English Princes, and here Richard, Earl of Cornwall, entertained his nephew, David, Prince of Wales, when the latter rebelled against the King in 1245. In subsequent centuries, almost within a few years of the commencement of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, it had, like other fortresses in this county, a governor, (being annexed to the Duchy of Cornwall) and was occasionally used as a state prison. The remains are now fast mouldering to decay; and in a few years, perhaps, not a vestige will be standing, to shew where grandeur had once usurped its despotic power. The _Church_ of Tintagell was formerly appropriated to the abbess and convent of Fontevralt in Normandy, and having passed in the same manner as Leighton-Buzzard in Bedfordshire, was given by King Edward IV. to the collegiate church at Windsor; the Dean and Chapter of which church have now the great tithes, and are patrons of the vicarage. There were chapels in this parish dedicated to St. Piran and St. Dennis, besides that in the castle of Tintagell. At Tintagell is a Charity-school, supported by the mayor and free burgesses, who pay a salary of £10 per annum to the master. About two miles from hence, over a rocky road, is BOSCASTLE, a small village, in a very romantic situation. Here a pilchard fishery has been established some years, but with little success to the adventurers. The _Quay_ has been greatly improved, and several new buildings erected.—This place had formerly a _Castle_, the antient residence of the Bottreaux family; but it was entirely gone prior to Leland’s time. In the _Church_ is the following epitaph for the Rev. W. Cotton and his wife, who died within a short time of each other. Forty-nine years they lived man and wife, And what’s more rare, thus many without strife, The first departing, he a few weeks tried To live without her, could not and so died.