The manner in which the snow clung to, rather than fell upon, all objects that it encountered, is strikingly shown in the accompanying illustration of Membland after the storm. The illustration is from a photograph of a water-colour drawing. The photograph, and the following narrative, have been courteously supplied to us by one who was a deeply interested spectator of the scene:-- "At Membland, Lord Revelstoke's place ten miles from Plymouth at the mouth of the Yealm, the devastation and havoc caused by the storm of the 9th of March are indescribable. "The appearance of the house on the Wednesday following, the 11th, will not easily be forgotten by its inmates. That Wednesday was a glorious day of sunshine. The house was entirely, to all appearance, snowed up to the top storey; the wind in its fierceness having flung the snow against the house, where it froze on the windows, giving a weird look; a pane of glass here and there coming out in relief, and prismatic colours darting across, in and out of the snow where the sun shone in full power. "Where the ivy covers the north side, the effect was very beautiful: each leaf covered as it were with a bell of crystal, and festoons of crystal hanging down in every direction. Outside the front door the snow was fourteen feet deep. From eight to ten on that memorable Monday evening when the storm was at its height, the gardener, Mr. Baker, stood out and saw the trees right and left, here rooted up, there felled down with the rapidity and report of a volley of musketry. Over a thousand trees are down, among them the finest trees surrounding the house, and which can ill be spared, such as the Insignis, the Ilex, &c. Every orchard is laid low. [Illustration: MEMBLAND, RESIDENCE OF LORD REVELSTOKE, AFTER THE STORM.] "The two plantations near the house present the appearance of hundreds of trees felled down for the advance of an invading and cruel enemy. On the carriage-drive you come across a huge tree torn up by the roots, leaving the whole road cracked as from an earthquake! By the side of this devastation, at every turn, you see the most curious sight of all,--a tree frail from age or extreme youth left untouched! The drift at the lodge was from fifteen to twenty feet deep. The lodge-keeper took one hour and three-quarters getting from the lodge to the house, on Tuesday, the 10th; a distance under three-quarters of a mile. Mr. Methyrell, a tenant of Lord Revelstoke's, residing one mile from Membland, lost fifty of his sheep. Lord Revelstoke was fortunate in not losing more than seventeen sheep and one black lamb. The village of Noss Mayo, situated in the estuary of the Yealm, in the parish of Revelstoke, has sadly lost in beauty and picturesqueness from the destruction of trees, these falling headlong in some instances on the boats of the inhabitants, and causing distress and ruin.