of Guernsey Thomas Bellamy

The first thing that a stranger, on landing, seeks, is rest and quietude; for which purpose, he generally locates himself at one or other of the hotels. Ordering dinner, he prepares an appetite by a walk in and about the town, which he will find to be a quiet, though thriving place, with good handsome shops. He may be arrested by the town church, which is as handsome a structure as any in England; and in many of its portions displays some cunning specimens of the ancient chisel. Should he be thinking of becoming a resident, he may probably stroll into the shambles, the fruit and poultry markets, and from thence to that splendid area the fish-market, where doubtless, if the slabs are in the same condition as in the earlier part of the morning, he will exclaim: "Well, this beats any thing of the kind I have ever seen!" On deliberating on the building and its vast supply, he will put us down as a fish-eating people, unless by enquiry he finds that vast quantities are exported. Having communed within himself on the various markets, he will not be a little amused with the fantastic head-dresses of the Norman women.

Proceeding through the town, he may visit the Grange, Rohais and St Andrew's roads, where he will find handsome, uniform buildings, much after the style of his own country; and having as it were by necessity passed the College, he will stop short to give it an extra consideration best known to himself. By the bye, he may fall in with the New Ground or parade, with which he can scarce fail to be pleased, as it is the admiration of every one.

Having procured a tolerable appetite, he will, in all probability, sit down to a dinner of John dorey or turbot, which, with the addition of a piece of roast beef as good as that of old England, and a good supply of delicious vegetables and fruit, may be a further proof of the qualities of Guernsey. After dinner being generally considered an interlude for good feelings and a kindly impression, the visitor no doubt will be anxious to chat with his neighbour on the economy of living in Guernsey and so on, or in his absence may skim the pages of a Guide or Almanack. Such being the case, he retires to bed to dream of the morrow's excursion, which, in all probability, will be towards the outskirts of the town; in which case, should he select the Rohais, he had better drop into Luff's nursery, as he will find in it much to interest the florist and the horticulturist. Taking a circuitous bend to the left through the fields adjoining Mr Martin's, he will fall in with Havilland Hall, the present residence of the Governor, which from over the hill has a fine appearance, and is seen to its best advantage. It is remarkable for its altitude, and an entrance of four lofty Doric columns, which but for a gentle swell in the middle, would be somewhat grand. The rest can scarce fail to be admired, as it consists of a deep ravine, babbling brooks, hanging woods, sheltered vale and cultivated farm.

Leaving the secluded quietude of Havilland Hall, you again fall in with one or the other of the public roads in the suburbs, wherein may be marked the growing importance of the town in the newly cut roads, and the handsome houses on either side. From the English tourist's knowledge of affairs so far, methinks I hear him exclaim: "What, from housekeeping, rent, and taxes in England, I am persuaded I can live here for about one half of my income. Indeed I can save one fourth owing to the entire absence of duty on excisable articles in England; not only can I live cheaper, but with much comfort and satisfaction to my wife and family. Here are no taxes, toll-bars, or any other kind of imposition, consequently can keep my horse and carriage at an average rate of 20l. per annum."

Keeping on he will arrive at Fort George, which is an elevation from whence he can see many objects of attraction, such as Doyle's Monument, on the right, and the small adjacent isles of Sark, Herm, and Jethou in the distance; and with a telescope, if the day is clear, the houses and trees of St Peter's, in Jersey, and not unfrequently a clear out-line of the coast of France over the main. In other positions he will also make a tolerable discovery of the craggy line of coast scenery from the precipitous crags and ravines of Fermain Bay, to the little point of Jerbourgh. Amongst some of these are pretty little retreats begirt with trees and underwood, which from their neatness may be pictured into the abodes of peace and contentment. Fort George is a brick building, and is surrounded by a deep trench over which is a draw-bridge at the entrance. The interior is well supplied with ammunition, and the ramparts are surmounted with plenty of guns which are kept in excellent repair. The adjoining grounds are spacious and open, part of which is reserved for an exercising arena to the garrison; the remainder is let for grazing and general cultivation.

Having taken an excursory glance of the town and its suburbs, the visitor will probably return home, satisfied that if what he has already seen is sufficient to demand his attention, the country scenery will, in a greater or lesser degree the same. Devoting the afternoon to reading and conversation, he will find in the "Directory" all necessary information for making a tour of the island, which, together with the aid of the "Guide," will occasionally introduce him to the chief places worthy of notice, particularly antique ruins, Druids' altars, pools and churches, which latter, in a measure, have been made station posts. The rich fertile plains, the upland woods, and the indented and irregular coast, will also come in for their full share of observation; indeed every thing that may be found to interest the agriculturist, horticulturist, artist, botanist, and tourist, will be carefully noticed, and if possible brought within the range of his own natural observation. Should he be only desirous of an out-line or broad cast view of the island, he had better take a horse, as he can be satisfied in a few hours. However, presuming the contrary, he will arise invigorated from rest and change of air to a substantial breakfast, when tapping his egg, he will propound over the coffee-pot the shortest and most rural cut to St Sampson.

FIRST DAY's EXCURSION

The road from town to St Sampson, winds through a low and flat country, occasionally interrupted by marshes, and in the winter oftentimes by inland water. The soil is sandy, and in some places boggy, consequently yielding but indifferent crops in contrast with the other districts of the island. The farms are but indifferent, and the gardens, from having a Southern aspect, produce abundance of flowers. A little while ago, at Glatney, at a house called La Piette, was a beautiful aloe upwards of fourteen feet in height, which the year before last was in full bloom. Lining the road are a few genteel cottages, evidently built for strangers and families visiting the Island. To the left is Ivy Castle, which from being situated in a marsh is hardly to be approached unless in summer and the weather remarkably dry. It is a Saxon building and is surrounded with trees, which give it a novelty of appearance. At present the interior is laid out in a kind of garden, and belongs to the Governor.

On the top of Delancey Hill, were once barracks sufficiently capacious for 5000 troops. They are now pulled down and the land let out by Government, upon conditions of being re-entered upon, as occasion may require, &c. From this height may be seen a variety of views, such as Sark, Herm, and Jethou, and on the other hand the sloping meads of the Valle, losing themselves in the gentle uplands of the CÂtel. Underneath are the Salt Pans, or shallow pools laid out for the purpose of making bay-salt. In this neighbourhood the botanist may discover specimens of orobanche major, ruscus aculeatus and spartium scoparium, the former of which is by no means uncommon on Delancey Hill and the adjacent furze fields.

The sea coast abounds in shells and curious pebbles, and is defended from the encroachment of the sea by grey and blue granite, which more or less is the usual belt of the Island.

At La Grosse Hougue is a small demi-dolmen which stands on the brow of a hill, so that it may be seen on either side. A small quantity of pottery was found under it, and it is said the late proprietor found human bones when breaking up an adjoining field. Several celts or stone wedges were picked up on this Hougue, and at a short distance from the hill is a stone pulpit, or as it is called "La Chaire du PrÊtre." It appears to be on its natural bed, and to be shaped with some design, of which the purpose may be well conjectured. Some suppose it to have belonged to the chapel of St Clair which once stood on an estate of that name, situate at a short distance. Near this spot are three upright stones, which probably belonged to a cromlech, as at several times various remains have been found. In the vicinity the botanist can basket a few specimens of osmunda regalis, the leaves of which are rather bluer than the English, and the protuberances more numerous.

On entering St Sampson's church, the whole of the interior will be remarked to be exceedingly rude, plain and massive in its architecture, and the walls partially deepened with the dark green tints of age and antiquity. Most of its original character is lost and buried beneath the continued alterations of modern art, and the observer of ancient tracery and sculptorship will find but little to amuse him beyond a mutilated piscina or circular door-way. A squinch thrown across an arcade may be conjectured for strength were it not confuted by two buttresses on the outside.

St Sampson's Harbour is almost the attraction of every one, as it is one of those excellent inland waters formed by nature, which by a comparatively low expenditure may be converted to an excellent purpose, and the mechanical genius will readily declare the feasibility. The Valle Castle is apparently situated on an abrupt mound, and as it were overlooking the sea, that gives it a truly picturesque effect meriting the attention of the artist. On entering one is pleasingly disappointed to find its interior far superior to what may be expected, as it is kept in good order, and is replete with every necessary preparation of barracks, which purpose it represents. The area within is spacious and open, and will afford room for the exercise of some hundred troops; the apartments are numerous, and the ramparts above well worthy the attention of the visitor. It is said a late Lord Mayor of London was formerly a stone-cutter at this harbour, and that he subsequently acquired great wealth. It appears that having left England for a youthful frolic, he came to Guernsey in great distress, where he was employed as a journeyman stone-cutter by a respectable farmer in the Valle. Returning to London, he fell in with a street paved with Guernsey stone, and from his knowledge of the island was hired by the contractor as a foreman, when by his industry he amassed a fortune, was elected Alderman, and finally elevated to the civic dignity of Lord Mayor of London. Strange to remark it remained unknown to the island until Sir John Doyle, then Lieutenant-Governor of Guernsey, dining one day at the Mansion-House, was asked by the Alderman next to him how his old master was at the Valle? "Your master!" replied the General, somewhat surprised. "Yes," said the Alderman, "the master for whom I worked as a journeyman stone-cutter at St Sampson's harbour, when I was a wild young man; pray remember me kindly to him as William Staines, and say that I shall be most happy to receive him in London."

Pursuing the road, you arrive at the entrance of Lancresse Common, where there is a small public-house called the Valle Tavern, which from the encouragement given it on race days and annual reviews, affords every comfort for the traveller. Here he can unload his basket, and call for a pint of good wine, or if he likes can order a beef-steak whilst he takes a peep in and about the adjoining church. Such being the case, he will find it an antiquated building, but which, from many modern alterations, smacks of deformity, especially the vaulted roof. The chancel is the earliest part, but of a much later Norman style than that of St Sampson's. The tracery on an East window in the North aisle is wrought up to a considerable effect by the chisel, and somewhat represents a lyre. The aisle is altogether of the decorative style, and in the East end is a stone, in which was once a monumental brass containing effigies of a man, his wife, and children, and which for some time was given out as the Abbot of St Michael.

Vale Tavern

Having refreshed himself and smacked his lips over a good glass of tawny-port, he will in all probability proceed towards the Cromlechs. If so, I would remind him on entering the common, to cast his eye to the right, where, as an artist, he will see a pretty wooded ait, called "Snipe-Isle," half hid among tall spear and standing in the middle of a glittering pool of water. There is a small flat bottomed boat, but as the water is exceedingly shallow it forms only a winter pool, being dried up throughout the summer. The back scenery enriches the picture in clumps of trees, hoary rocks, and the expansive ocean; and the little holme is a dense mass of trees.

Lancresse Common forms an annual race course, which in the summer, during the race week, is rendered exceedingly gay from the erection of booths and other displays. About the centre of the Common, on a gentle rising, are a number of immense stones, forming a cave in which one can stand erect. They once contained human ashes, pottery, celts, and an arrow-head, together with many other curious remains. The sepulchre is covered with several ponderous stones, one of which is of an immense size, and apparently only supported on the pinnacles or edges of two erect smaller ones. These remains are surrounded by an elevated circular mound, with two evident entrances through the North and West sides, which may be perceived to resemble those spots of convocation among the ancient Druids, which so frequently occur in other countries. Standing on the apex of the large altar stone the views become very extensive, and combine a great diversity of scenery. The Valle Castle with the immediate foreground, and the tapering masts of the shipping forms a fine picture in contrast with the back scenery of the town and the adjacent heights of Fort George.

On the Eastern part of the plain, immediately below the hill above mentioned, is another cromlech, circumgirt on all sides with curious stones, the position of which are very singular, if placed in contrast with those adjoining. About an hundred yards from hence, towards the North-east, may be seen the portion of a circle rendered perfect by the upright stones still standing; and in 1837, in an adjacent spot, were discovered several stone graves. A little to the right may be perceived a cairn, which is called "La Rocque Balan," where Fancy can fashion divine honours were paid to the God of Belenus, the Sun or Apollo. There are many of these remains in this locality, and a logan stone, with some others, have been swept away by the ruthless hands of the peasantry.

Extending the walk to the extreme point, the geologist will discover spacious quarries of blue and grey granite, which are worked for exportation to London. This is a very solitary spot, and being a considerable jut into the sea, is defended by quantities of immense rocks in the utmost state of confusion, amongst which are found many curious marine plants.

Taking an inland direction, the agriculturist will perceive extensive fields of a deep sandy loam, well charged with vraic or sea weed, that put forth considerable crops of beet-root, which in this light soil attain their utmost bulk, by reason of the freedom allowed for their proper expansion. Contrary to the English fashion, the fields contain a mixed crop, such as brocoli plants, potatoes, and parsnips, the former of which are generally well bestrewed with vraic. In the neighbourhood is the rock, "La Hougue Patris," which is almost hid among the furze, and which contains an impression that Fancy may whimsically fashion into the tread of an hoof. The peasantry regard it as something mysterious, and call it "Le Pied du Boeuf." The resemblance is so exact that it is no marvel it should thus forcibly draw their attention. "Les Brayes," the rocks opposite, are said to contain the same kind of impression on which ignorant speculation has worked up many superstitious and base stories.

Making a circuitous bend, you pass through a low, flat, kind of valley, or immediately under the residence of Mr Augustus DobrÉe, whose house is situated on a mound or height, that can scarce fail to be recognized, as it is the only one of importance in the neighbourhood. The country, in this part, still continues marshy, subject to damps and inundations, and yielding but scanty crops of potatoes, parsnips and beet, which latter rarely attains a bulk beyond three inches in thickness and thirteen in length. The botanist will be amused with a variety of specimens of aquatic plants and by an unbounded quantity of cotyledon umbilicus which shrouds every old wall. The artist will find a picture combining wood, hill, vale and rustic buildings, completed by a brilliant gleam of inland waters.

Continuing the road to Grande Rocque, the gardens on either side continue to increase in beauty, until they break out into full bloom at the Friquet and other richer parts of the CÂtel parish. On this rout the botanist will fall in with the Queen's meadow, which in the months of July and August, literally speaking, is a sheet of camomile flower.

From Grande Rocque the views are very excellent; to the right, on an eminence at the Western point of the bay, is Roc-du-Guet, or Watch-Rock, a small battery that in war time was a telegraphic station.

Straight a-head is a small, but neat cottage, standing alone on the sand plains, the residence of a Mr Saunders; behind are the sloping uplands of CÂtel, which, as they approach the town, are diversified with sylvan beauty and elegant houses.

To the left, on some distant sand plains, and on a gentle rising is a curious old rock, technically called the "Giant's Head," from its vast resemblance to that fancied form. It is the resting place of the cormorant and other wild birds of prey, and the hollow on the top of the head is filled with half digested fish bones and beetles. In summer it is generally the resort of pic-nic parties, whose groups form a very quaint appearance at this curious place. Between this and Grande Rocque is Grande Mare, which was formerly a noble sheet of water abounding with carp and other fish. At present only a vestige of it can be seen during the winter months, as it has been drained off at a considerable expence.

Continuing the road, on the right is a fine old Saxon arch leading to Blancbois, a large farm belonging to Mr LainÉ. A little further is Saumarez, the mansion of the Lady Dowager De Saumarez, a quadrangular building, remarkable for a kind of belfry on the top which gives it a curious effect. It is built of granite and is surrounded with umbrageous trees, and tastefully laid out gardens, abounding in flowers. In the front is a small pool, which from being hemmed in by a wall is rather a deformity than an addition, as it smacks of the artificial. The adjoining grounds are pretty, but of the usual character, small and circumscribed, and some connected gardens figure boldly for a number of fine myrtles, outlandish trees and numerous lillies of the valley. The district is nearly the same as we have just past, with the exception of the orchard scenery being much more florid, the fields sheltered with trees, and the ground much better dairy land.

A cow generally yields from twelve to fifteen pounds of butter throughout the summer, and the farms are somewhat remarkable for their fine ducks. The grounds connected with the curious house of Miss Le Marchant have an English aspect to a considerable degree, and in the centre of one, the property of the late Mr Le Pelley, is a curious old elm.

Someways to the left in a well screened valley, and immediately behind the parsonage-house, is the country hospital. It was built in 1753 and has upwards of forty vergÉes of excellent land attached to it which in part supports its inmates, who are employed in its cultivation, thereby enjoying the advantage of constant fresh air and exercise. The apartments are commodious and cleanly, and are the receptacle of the destitute and infirm of all the country parishes, as also two-thirds of those orphans and widows who are left by soldiers dying in garrison. The sick ward conveniently fronts a sunny garden abounding with flowers and fruits, the former of which goes much towards exhilarating the sick. Divine Service is performed by the country ministers in turn, and the children which attend have nurseries and schools.

St George, the residence of Colonel Guille, our present Baillif, is charmingly situated amid woods of stately oak, beech and other timber, and is esteemed by Englishmen and others of sound taste to be a better specimen of English country scenery than any other in the island. The stranger perhaps will see but little to attract him in the house, as it is small, and but little discretion in the style; but then this is amply compensated in the back scenery, which includes park-like grounds, rendered doubly interesting from being beautified with sheep, which may be perhaps the only opportunity he will have of seeing them in the island, and even here they are, according to the law, either tied by the leg or pent in folds.

Diverging towards the sea on an eminence overlooking the wide main, and a considerable territory of fens, called the "Pontine Marshes," is a kind of look-out house or summer retreat belonging to the above gentleman. Here the stranger has a broad-cast view of the fenny country beneath, which in the winter is the beat of the wild-fowl shooter, as it is the resort of the bittern, the heron, and a variety of other curious birds[A]; therefore if he can regard the gunner and his dog wading through a wild tract of rushes, marshes and vistas of tall spear, with a picturesque eye, this is the spot. Looking inland he will see the beautiful wooded district he has just left, connecting itself in an apparently unbroken chain until it loses itself amid the beautiful confines and valley of the King's Mills, where, on retreating back a little, he will soon find himself. Throughout this rout the botanist will fall in with digitalis purpurea, convallaria majalis, artemisia vulgaris, and a curious specimen of salix, together with abundance of teucrium scordonia, which is as common and unregarded an herb as any in the island, though possessing such excellent medical properties as a tonic. However, hoping he will take this hint, and give it a trial, we must leave him for the sake of the conchologist and geologist, whom no doubt have both taken a rout by the sea-shore, and by this time must have bagged a variety of shells, inasmuch as this line of coast displays some beautiful sorts, such as black, white, yellow and red.

The neighbourhood abounds in a deep and rich soil capable of producing the best crops, such as wheat, barley, potatoes and parsnips, which latter crop, if the stranger has been here any time, he must have discovered, is the chief growth of the Guernsey farmer. There are many rich fields in this vicinity that can and do grow about twenty and a quarter tons to the English acre, which, when dug, generally sell at about one shilling per bushel, but afterwards rise in proportion. In the more sheltered parts are waving corn fields, which though equally fine elsewhere, nevertheless are shaken by the winds from the altitude of the situation. Vraic is not so much used as in the Valle.

The King's Mills is a secluded and delightful situation, and more or less is the attraction of all visitors. The orchard scenery is florid, and the ground exceedingly good from being stimulated by the invigorating salts of the vraic, and the cyder has been considered the best in the island. The scenes abound with much interest, and are by no means too clogged for the pencil of the artist. The herbs are generally medical and of the tall kinds.

A little way up the stranger will break upon the most lovely valley he ever sat eyes on. It is in fact a bason, circumgirt on all sides, with a more or less quantity of beautiful trees and underwood. In the centre, on a gentle rising, are the farm premises of Mr Dorey, which is entered from the road by a curious old broken Saxon arch. Adjoining the farmyard, is a gigantic holly-tree, measuring at the base seven feet two inches in circumference, and midway up four feet six inches and one eight, having for its recommendation a clean and healthy stem whereon not a single knot or other imperfection can be traced upon its silver-skinned bark from the root upwards. The tree itself stands about fifty feet, and the trunk twenty-five feet. In the above valley is every thing that can fascinate the poet, the painter, and the admirer of the picturesque, and if the stranger's visit to this charming spot should be in the autumn, he may perhaps indulge with the author; for it was a beautiful day, on the threshold of winter, that he visited it under the following impression:—

Here, fain would we look back or linger where we are, for many charms yet surround us; true, indeed, a fairer vision is receding from us,—brighter skies and a greener earth; but when we look around, and see the beauteous hues which yet garnish the woods, and the few blossoms that still faintly smile upon their stalks, we feel a sympathy with the melancholy cast of the season; and almost fancy that neither the cheerful visions of the spring, the glowing luxuriance of summer, nor the mellow tints of autumn, equal the sombre charm of the closing scene. Surely none speak to the heart with such impressive language, none so full of calm thoughts, sober recollections, and gentle feelings. Who that ever trod this sylvan valley, rustling beneath his feet the heaps of leaves that once danced greenly and gaily on the outstretched bows, but dwells on abject prospects, blighted hopes, joys, loves, affections cherished and buried? Who that hears amid this stillness, the drop of a leaf amid its companions, but is feelingly and touchingly reminded that all natural things decay. He feels that the holiday of youth is past into summer—summer into autumn, and that he too must soon drop as noiseless and as silent as that leaf before him in the winter of his life. But let me for a moment part from this moral strain, and walk in fellow companionship to yonder mound and beat the leaves in our way, for there are many lovely pictures which linger before the eye as we wade through them in the stillness of an October noon; such as the deep red of some, the ashen hue of others, with all the intermediate tints of orange and yellow, and the brown duskier hues that deepen into nothingness and decay. The dark shining green of the holly, with its scarlet berries in connexion with the adjoining laurel, bears to the poetic feeling amalgamized ideas of youth and age,—the berry bearing tribe of bushes bending to the earth with the weight of their neglected riches, and the dark sloe with its hoar-frost film, all tend to form a fit subject for the pen of the immortal Gilpin in his Northern Tints of Forest Scenery, in which peculiar strain he is the most exalted of all living and dead writers—

Now we have emerged from the trees, let me point to yonder water-mill, that lies immediately under the cÔtil. How beautifully plays the feathery foam over the wheel, and how it dances and leaps over the little one which so swiftly runs round! In October everything is clear and distinct; there is none of that raw mistiness which in summer clogs the distant prospect, nor any of that dancing vapour which a mid-day sun exhales from the heated earth. We can almost count the leaves of the trees, and as the slanting sun-beam thwarts the level of the meadow, high-taper and fox-glove rise conspicuously into view. It is in October that a boundless prospect is enjoyed to the full, and all that the horizon embraces is distinctly laid before us. Oft do I recollect from Le Hocquette, watching with intense interest the fiery setting of the evening sun, which, as it dipped the horizon sent up rich spires of rays, and as it were in a flood of heavenly light gilding it with an eternal glory, while the heavy gloom of Noirmont point was distinct even to a mushroom on the outline, all contributing to render the scene gorgeous in the extreme.

Connected with this valley, and intersected with a variety of hill and dale, is Woodlands, perhaps the most beautiful estate in the island. The building is somewhat irregular, and unfortunately situated in the lowland that causes dampness, and enforces the idea of gloom. This, however, is amply compensated in the diversity of the scenery, which comprehends a tasteful display of wood, garden, and upland; altogether forming a spot of true monastic seclusion, which the visitor can scarce fail to identify. The intersectional valleys are so screened from the winds, that the magnolia grandiflora is a mere ornamental shrub in the adjoining woods, and attains the extraordinary height of forty feet, and blossoms every year. A species of syringa, from Constantinople, with long pendant flowers, and the spice plant, with many others equally rare, seem to invigorate as though in their native soil. It is here the excellent seedling apple called "la Pomme Susanne," or Mollet Pippin was raised, named from a former proprietor, who left an orchard rich with a variety of sorts.

On this estate, in a sequestered little nook, half hid by the waving umbrage of the beech, is the Domaillerie cottage, remarkable as the only place where the Guernsey Lily grows wild, the leaves of which, in the month of September may be seen sprinkled as if with original gold dust, and at times there are from seven to nine bells on each stalk. This cottage is also the subject of a legend which represents it as once being inhabited by an extraordinary old woman, of a tall stooping figure and fierce black eyes. Until of late years it has been the cause of some superstitious speculation among the neighbouring peasantry, and a large stone, hid under piles of deep green foliage, still marks the spot where she expired. At present, the cottage is converted into a lumber-house, and a gothic window in the gable, gives it the appearance of an old catholic chapel.

At Lassy is a comfortable little inn, kept by one Alexander, who has got himself famous for a peculiar method in making pan-cakes, whereby he can almost suit the palate of every one. Here the stranger has an opportunity of a return by the omnibus, which on certain days passes this way. At the point of Le Crocq, near Richmond, is a vertical stone, or fichade, which is evidently of some antiquity. In the neighbourhood are fragments of pottery, and some years ago stone instruments were picked up, together with a gold coin, which was recently found. On a promontory at Le RÉe, near the isle of Lihou, is a cromlech, which has not received such damages, from the attrition of Time, as the rest. It is on the side of the road which leads to the above little isle, and at present consists of two large cap-stones, which measure about twenty feet across. They cover a considerable chamber, and are supported by a number of props. The entrance is at the East end, and the interior is dark and gloomy; the interstices being filled or blocked up with stones and other rubbish. Other cromlechs are pointed out as being in the neighbourhood, but there is no dependance on them, and the one above mentioned is said to be the far-famed "Creux des FÉes," about half a mile from which is a small, but interesting one, consisting of three or four stones. Beneath it were found burnt ashes and bones, as also portions of urns and coarse pottery. It may be found on the top of the hill Catioroc, and is called by the peasantry "Le Trepied." These latter cromlechs are the property of Mr Bonamy Maingay, and are well worthy of notice.

The little isle of Lihou does not possess any Celtic remains, and this has been attributed to its early occupation by the monks, and the erection of a chapel and priory, which were built about the tenth or eleventh century, or some time before the consecration of the Valle church. The site of the chapel presents a heap of walls in ruins, and until lately were shrouded in gloomy night-shade and rank fox-glove, whose tendrils have for years supported the drooping arch, the fallen urn, and mouldering monument; and, as it were in mockery of the dead, clasping the falling column. Remnants of the chapel still remain, and excavations which have heretofore been made, have brought to light many curious details. It consisted of a chancel and a nave, with a square tower on its North-East side. It was vaulted with stone, and the North wall of the nave with a few feet of the roof is still standing. The above excavations were commenced in the chancel, the walls of which were just visible above the turf. It contained the ribs of the roof and portions of the columns and windows, the former of which were of Caen stone. On sinking to a depth of four feet a pavement of small green and red Norman tiles was discovered, and from observations made in different parts of the chapel, it would appear the whole had been thus paved. Under this pavement a few silver monastic coins and pennies of Edward I. were found. A range of buildings may be traced at the lower part of the chapel, overlooking the sea, and others have disappeared from the encroachment of the waves at spring-tides. In a Southern bank is a drain, apparently leading to the kitchen, in which were found large quantities of fish-bones, scales, and other matter. To the East is a walled enclosure, which is said to be the "garden"; at a short distance from this is a round-house or dovecot, where the monks reared their pigeons, and in an adjoining spot is a piece of ground which still goes by the name of the "CimetiÈre." At one end of the chancel are some steps which appear to be the chief entrance, and the rugged causeway leading from the island to the opposite shore is supposed to have been made by the monks. In the rocks on the South side are two natural baths, supposed to have been hollowed by the attrition of the waters and pebbles, as the action of the waves is remarkably strong here. They are supposed to have been used by the monks during the existence of the priory. The island is very much exposed and scarcely anything besides tufted herbage will grow there; nevertheless there is a good house, containing useful apartments and a fine billiard room and table.

Leaving Lihou on the other side of Rocquaine bay is a creek, on which were once some ruins.

Towards the sea the botanist will find abundance of eryngo or sea-holly, which is a truly marine plant and exceedingly nutritious, the young tops being eaten as asparagus; also fine specimens of samphire, which is far superior to that of Grande Rocque and the neighbourhood. Here, and in the vicinity of Lihou are the chief places for the gathering of vraic, which from the 17th of July to the 31st of August is one general scene of activity, and is well worthy the attention of the stranger, as it is a peculiar feature in the island character.

In this bustling affair he will observe bands of country people, men, women, and children, trooping towards the rocks in one uniform spirit of hilarity and glee, of whom some are not unfrequently crowned with flowers and other fantastical head-dresses. On the receding of the tide they disperse themselves among the rocks, the strongest, be it on horse-back or on foot, striving to attain the richest point. When the vraic is abundant they gather it with a kind of sickle or reaping hook, throwing it in heaps on a certain rock marked by a number of pebbles or chalking the name. Where carts are not accessible they bear it at full speed on horse-back, and some few on their shoulders. On the approach of the tide or end of their labour, the lads lead the lasses to bathe, which is a fund of amusement to those unaccustomed to the sight, for what with the merriment of the men and the shrieks of the timid girls, all is confusion and uproar. However this soon subsides as the evening mellow approaches, as there is no small expectation of something that exceeds all, inasmuch as it is usual to have an entertainment on the like scale. Such being the case, the country inns throw up a kind of canopy, which is tastefully decorated with flowers and surmounted with fern; the whole of the fabric being propped up with posts. A variety of cheer takes place, which is closed by an evening dance, generally undertaken by the young vraicquers. This highly characteristic native scenery is equally prevalent at the bays of Le RÉe, La Parelle and the Vazon.

The land in this district is liberally supplied with vraic, which in connexion with a good active soil is capable of producing the best crops, especially potatoes, which in some instances are six Guernsey bushels to the perch, or at the rate of about twenty tons to the English acre. The farms are generally from thirty to forty vergÉes, and if there is a predominance of meadow land, they usually manure two vergÉes, which is about one fifteenth. In other districts they manure one in four, and disperse at least four loads to the vergÉe. The medical herbs are in usual character with those of Torteval and other upland parishes, wherefore the botanist will fall in with tolerable specimens of potentilla tormentilla, which according to the dryness of the soil, varies in its virtues as an astringent.

Returning to town, on the left, are the ruins of an old Catholic chapel called St Appoline, which at present is converted into a furze-house and cow stable, consequently the interior remains of its mural antiquity are fast vanishing away. In the adjoining house may be seen the clapper of the bell, portions of a sun-dial, and an ornamented stone cross which it is said once stood on the summit of the East gable. At the back of the proprietor's house is an old building, in the walls of which are some arched windows and a fire place, that is conjectured to have formed the kitchen. The neighbourhood has a monastic seclusion, which may render it probable as being the place of old monkish hospitality. On the inside of the vaulted roof are some curious figures in fresco, one of which evidently represents the Virgin Mary. Those on the lower parts are entirely demolished from the injury done to the plaster by the furze and other lumber. On the South side is a window forming an opening of forty-eight by thirteen inches, being divided into two parts by a horizontal stone or transome. The stones are of considerable dimensions, and are occasionally laid horizontally.

Keeping the road to town one will fall in with the CÂtel church, which has undergone many alterations and repairs. It is built on the site of an ancient fort called the "Castel du Grand Sarazin," and the North wall of the chancel and transept are still remaining portions of the old castle walls, the masonry of which is exceedingly rude, the large and small stones being thrown together confusedly and without order. Of late years some incongruous and rude fresco figures have been discovered on a wall of the North transept. In the church-yard is the tomb of the late Lord De Saumarez, a native of the island, much beloved and esteemed. The tomb is guarded by an iron railing and is exceedingly plain, at once affording a striking instance of the un-ostentatious disposition of the late Lord.

Someways to the right is Pouchez, the charming estate of Mr Moullin, diversified with rich meadows, hill and dale, and discretional openings amid a gay profusion of deep green foliage, ivy-mantled stumps and pollard oaks; which together with a few old mossy walls, and rural buildings, full well claims the attention of the tourist.

The road from hence to the Rohais, from its altitude, affords a most expansive view over the vale country beneath, especially from the fir clump. Should the evening be on the mellow wane, he may indulge himself with a seat, and with the combined feelings of the painter and the poet contemplate on the placidity of the distant landscape. Unfurled like a map before him lay rocks, trees, pools, cottages and the distant horizon, glittering like liquid silver under the expiring glory of the setting sun. Here he will catch a glimpse of cottages half hid under piles of deep green foliage, which his fancy may ingeniously colour into a hamlet of peace and contentment;—there a handsome villa and a sweep of inland water gleaming in the evening red, with here and there a cottage curling its smoke amid the calm serenity of the scene, or a wind-mill on a distant knoll flagging in the evening breeze.

On the Rohais road the houses have a respectable appearance, and the land apparently under a higher state of cultivation than he has hitherto seen. Being elevated and laying open to the North, the gardens are sometimes severely touched by the winds, and though most of them are protected by high walls, it nevertheless is not a sure preventive. The houses in general have an English cut, either being centered in beautiful green daisy fields, or hid in high shrubberies and trees. The air, from the upland situation of the neighbourhood, is considered remarkably pure and wholesome, being a close representation to that of Torteval, which undoubtedly is the healthiest parish in the island.

SECOND DAY's EXCURSION.

By way of making a circuit of the island, the stranger will select the road to Fort George, which has been already noticed. A little beyond is Fermain bay, delightfully environed with rocks, trees and furze hills, which latter are romantically intersected with winding path-ways, evidently not to be trod by the timid pedestrian, as they run round steep declivities of blooming furze blossom, and at times verge on precipices. At low watermark the little bay presents a fine sandy bottom, consequently is an occasional resort for sea bathing; towards the shore the pebbles are large, and thrown in such quantities and with such violence as to be worn completely round by the attrition of the confined waves. On a height to the left are two land marks, placed for the purpose of warning mariners coming down the Great Russel, the situation of the Lower Heads, a dangerous reef of rocks, laying about mid-way between this and Sark. From this point Southwards the line of coast is one continued scene of rocky steeps, ravines, and broken declivities more or less mantled with golden furze bloom, at times belted with ivy, and fringed with wild flowers. Indeed the whole connected together is one of singular beauty and well merits the attention of the artist. The little bay is defended by a martello tower and battery.

To the right is Bonair, the residence of our late lamented Baillif or head magistrate, Daniel De Lisle Brock, Esq., which is prettily situated on an upland, sloping towards the sea, and belted with luxuriant timber. A little further on, on the opposite side is the manor house of Saumarez, belonging to John Thomas De Saumarez, Esq., Comptroller or Solicitor-General. With the exception of a few modern additions and innovations, the building has a considerable appearance of antiquity. According to an inquest about five centuries since, or in the reign of Edward III., this house is mentioned as being in the possession of the Saumarez family from time immemorial. About that time the principal fortress of the island was Jerbourg, when the office of Castellan was granted to the lord of this manor, a situation of no small trust; at present the title is profitless.

The greater part of St Martin's church is of the early English style, but the windows of modern formation. The porch affords fine specimens of the ancient chisel, and is considered the handsomest in the island. The corner buttresses are cut from the hard granite, and the massive sculpture work is considered exceedingly good. The dedication was attended with the splendour of the Catholic church in which the feudal pomp of the baronial times was eminently conspicuous. It took place about the year 1199, and there were present the Governors of Rennes, Honfleur and Caen, Totness and Southampton, and eighty-four lords displayed their banners.

Some ways to the right, and near St Andrew's church, is "la Croix au Baillif," or Baillif's Cross, which took its name from the following circumstance, that happened in the earlier part of the thirteenth century. Gaultier De La Salle, the then Baillif of the island, lived about half a mile hence, at a place called "la Ville au Roi," which may still be seen with its sculptured granite door-way and stone spiral staircase. The adjoining houses are only tenanted by poor people, and the walls of the old mansion are still supported by the clasping embrace of ivy, and its roof screened by the umbrage and waving verdure of some tall neglected trees. Gaultier De La Salle had a poor neighbour named Massey, who chiefly depended for support on the produce of a small adjoining patch of ground connected with the Baillif's estate, and to which was attached a right of passage to a well belonging to La Salle. This privilege was a great annoyance to the Baillif, wherefore he tried various means to deprive him of it; but being unsuccessfull in them all, he at length devised a scheme for taking away his life. Accordingly, La Salle hid two of his own silver cups, and expressing strong suspicion of his neighbour, poor Massey was instantly taken up and brought to trial on circumstantial evidence. Now, as theft, to a certain degree, in those days, was a capital offence, and the accuser a person of high authority, and backed by the most corrupt witnesses, the case was soon brought to proof, and Massey found "guilty." Wherefore the judges, on their last deliberation came forth with sentence of death on their lips. There was a pause—a dead silence in the Court; and the unfortunate prisoner, after vainly asserting his innocence, now awaited his condemnation hopelessly; when suddenly a noise was heard, the trampling of many feet, and a man rushed breathless into the Court, holding up the silver cups, and exclaiming, "they are found." He informed the judges that having been employed that morning in removing some sheaves of corn belonging to the Baillif into the barn, he and his fellow labourers had found the cups in the middle of the rick. Hardly had he said this, than De La Salle passionately exclaimed: "Fool! did I not tell thee not to touch that rick; I knew—" He stopped in confusion; but his words were marked. Every eye was turned on the guilty Baillif, and the Court resolved that the base accuser should suffer the "lex talionis a criminÊ ejus," or retaliation on account of his crime. Massey was instantly set at liberty; and, after a short trial, Gaultier De La Salle was sentenced to death. On his way to execution, he stopped at this spot, and partook of the sacrament; in remembrance of which a cross was erected, called the "Baillif's Cross." The spot is now only marked by a stone in the pathway, with a cross cut in it. The place where Massey lived is called "le Courtil Massey," or Massey's Field, to this day. The Baillif's estate being forfeited to the Crown, has ever since been called "la Ville au Roi," or the King's Town.

The Doyle column stands on the high land of Jerbourg, and was erected by the States of the island in the year 1820. The ground on which it is built is elevated from the sea 350 feet, and the column itself 101 from the foundation, forming a total of 451 feet. The gallery is defended by an iron balustrade, is fourteen feet square, will contain from thirty to forty persons, and is ascended by cocklestairs guarded by railings. The entrance is on the East side, and the door of the gallery faces the South-East. It is built of Guernsey granite with an oak frame placed in the wall at every ten feet, and may be seen ten leagues distance at sea from the West and Southern direction, being considered by mariners of the greatest importance. It was raised to commemorate with grateful remembrance the many public services rendered the island by the late General Sir John Doyle, whilst Lieutenant-Governor, from the year 1803 to 1817. From the top may be caught a most extended view of earth, sky, and water. At one's feet lay Sark, Herm and Jethou; and Jersey, France and Alderney, so plain as almost to be able to distinguish the outline of form, such as indentations, creeks, coves, and inlets of projecting rocks and crags, more or less whitened with the moss of age and antiquity. Inland, fields waving with corn and verdure, and if in his poetic fancy the tourist cannot conjure up something of a sylvan scene, a rolling river or a sweep of inland water, is his own fault. The key of the Monument is delivered to the public gratis, and is kept at an adjoining public house, on whose sign are the words "Doyle—pub. grat."

On the small promontory of Jerbourg was formerly a castle, the keeper or castellan of which was of the De Saumarez family, unto whom the manor has for several centuries belonged. At present not so much as the walls are remaining. From several trenches and ditches, which are still remaining, it is conjectured there was once a Roman encampment here, and this is not at all improbable as tradition gives us the same. Jerbourg barracks are situate on an adjoining spot and are sufficiently capacious for about three hundred troops.

Taking the road to Petit-Bo bay, about mid-way, the artist will catch a lively picture, such as bold and majestic crags in the front;—a streak of the ocean, the deep ravine beneath, with a foaming little waterfall, rivulet and mill, beautified with a cove of silver sand, all tending to elevate the idea, and reduce into the mind a fit assemblage for the finest picture, such as "beauty in the lap of horror." An ill-formed paper-mill and an artificial mud pond may be said to overthrow the quietude and seclusion of the spot. However, it is so much like that where Napoleon rests in St Helena, only in a lesser form, that a correspondent of the local press, who had evidently visited the Emperor's tomb, wrote thus: "When you descend the road from the Forest church, keep to your right and proceed directly on to the brow of the cliff overlooking the small battery. A ravine there presents itself. If you will be kind enough next to look towards the cliff immediately opposite, you will observe a pretty lofty eminence. On that height, in imagination, I placed Madame Montholon's house, which you must remember is described by many travellers as looking down upon the Emperor's tomb. About an hundred feet below this, picture to your imagination a beautiful green sward, sloping in graceful declivity down the valley. Next on the left hand, place a small cottage, the residence of the old sentinel at St Helena, and at the foot of his little garden, a sentry box, where a record is kept for the entry of visitors' names; beside this, bursting out from a crevice in the rock, you may fancy the celebrated spring, out of which the departed warrior was accustomed to drink. The water is the purest and most refreshing to be found in the island. Carry your eye a little further down, and the sacred tomb is seen surrounded by an iron railing. A large willow tree waves its graceful foliage over this romantic spot. A plain stone, with the awful word "Napoleon," rests on the grave. Immediately beneath the tomb, a natural bed of scarlet geraniums, intermingled with myrtles and evergreens, extend to the rocks beneath, over whose rugged heads the sea breaks, thus terminating one of the most picturesque and romantic scenes to be found on the terrestrial globe."

Continuing the road, the country wears a diversity of scenery, being occasionally interrupted by hills and abrupt risings towards the sea. In dells screened from the roughness of the winds, and where there is a good aperture for the sun, gardens do well; and cottage vines[A] are equally as vigorous as in Jersey, and exotics require little or no protection besides that of a slight covering. The broad and narrow leaved double-flowering myrtle flourishes in the open air, and the orange with only the aid of a wall perfects its fruit. The Guernsey fig[B] growing as a standard of great strength, with a variety of other outlandish plants and shrubs, bespeak a situation favorable both for flowers and fruits. In the neighbourhood, amongst a variety of plants, the botanist will find allium ampeloprasum, or vine leek, which, according to Mr B. Saunders,[C] a member of the Botanic Society, is also found wild on a nearly inaccessible cliff beyond the Artillery Barracks.

The sea coast in this district is exceedingly craggy and at a place called the "Gouffre," which in summer is often the resort of pic-nic parties, the rocks are thrown in the most haggard yet beautiful state of wild confusion, and the foaming of the sea at an immense depth below, like the boiling of a cauldron, fully demonstrates the disturbed state of the elements. The seeker of solitude and the admirer of rude nature can almost enjoy themselves to repletion, as perhaps this place cannot be represented save in some of the wilds of America or the deep ravines of Merionethshire, at all events solitude can never be more faithfully portrayed.

A little further on towards Petit-Bo is a sequestered little fishing nook, called "La Moye," consisting of one or two fisherman's huts deeply seated in a ravine replete with furze, grig and wild flowers. At the bottom is a cave formed by the confused state of the rocks, which acts as a harbour or anchorage for a few fishing boats, the which, if the stranger be fond of the water, he can hire for a trifle. The fish here as well as in Petit-Bo bay are rock-fish, whitings, sword-fish, &c.

A little to the Westward of the Gouffre is a place called the "Bigard," famous for its rocks, pinnacled masses and confused precipices, which confining the sea within its narrow chasms, causes it to fret and roar beyond every thing grand, at once laying bare to the observer from the heights and crags above, one continued and fearful action of scenery.

The country about the Forest church consist of a stiff but active soil, and in many parts of a rich loam. Sylvan beauty ornaments the country occasionally, and furze hedges more or less disappear for those of thorn and other bushes. Parsnip crops in this quarter are about 17,600 lbs. per vergÉe, provided they are grown in a putrid, dry sandy soil, of which there is many a field. The Coquaine parsnip thrives best in the deep sandy loam of the Valle, where it sometimes attains the extraordinary length of four feet, and in circumference generally from eight to twelve inches. The leaves of this variety grow to a considerable height, and proceed from the whole crown of the root. The Lisbonaise gains in weight and substance what the other does in length, consequently does not require the depth of soil. The leaves of this species are small and short, and only break from the centre in which there is a hollow cup, and the root tapers away in abrupt ringlets.

As the stranger can scarce fail to be awakened at the bustle attendant on the preparation of the ground for this seed, together with the holiday-like supper at the end, it will not be amiss to take a brief survey of the operations. As the small farms into which Guernsey is divided will not allow every individual farmer to keep sufficient cattle for this work, it is performed by a combination of neighbours, who are repaid by the like joint-stock assistance, in which there is a mutual understanding as to the loan of ploughs and other instruments. Towards the latter end of February the ground is prepared by means of ploughs; a small one precedes, and opens the furrow to the depth of four inches, and a large one follows, with four or six oxen and as many horses, that deepens the furrow to twelve or fourteen inches;—this plough is called "la grande charrue." As soon as the clods are capable of being broken, the harrowing commences, which is repeated till the soil is pulverised and reduced nearly to a state of garden mould. The seed is then broad-cast over the ground, but on a day when the wind is just sufficient to ensure an even dispersion; after which it is covered with the harrow. The quantity sown to the vergÉe is half a denerel or two quarts.

In this and St Martin's parish there has been lately introduced a very excellent sort of pig, which in breed is supposed to be an admixture between the English and Chinese kinds. Until lately a good specimen was to be seen at a public-house kept by —— Hopkins, whose mode of feeding is first with raw parsnips, then with boiled, and towards the end of the fattening a little barley meal. By this kind of feeding the quantity of pork is much encreased, but the quality is impaired, as the fat becomes flabby. To provide against this he adds an extra quantum of saltpetre in the curing, which answers tolerably well. However, be it as it may, they are much more profitable than the foreign long-legged ones, so common in the Valle and other districts. Hogs of this kind, twenty months old, when killed at Christmas, have weighed from 400 to 420 lbs.

As the stranger may not have hitherto had a proper opportunity of observing the manner of Guernsey churning, it may not be unacceptable to give him an idea. In England, either the barrel churn or the patent vertical ones are generally used, whereas here the old fashioned upright one has maintained its ground through all time and change, which if not deemed a cleanly way is certainly an expeditious one. The milk, which is churned with the cream, is commonly put in the churn over night, and that generally on the third day. When it is curdled it is churned, the acidity of the milk quickening the butter, which is not to be excelled in any part of the world.

On the left is a Wesleyan chapel, and a little beyond is the Forest church, which has an ugly appearance, from the East and West sides of the tower being longer than the other two. It has been so patched and altered by modern art, that little or nothing of the original structure remains, and the ornamental portions of a South window, have long since been destroyed. The hedges in the vicinity are mostly holly and thorn, and the latter, which is generally shrouded with ivy, compensates in a great measure for the absence of timber. On the more exposed parts, the hedges are furze, the usual fence-fashion of the island, which, in spring, beautifies and perfumes the country. The naturalist will observe the entire absence of those insects peculiar to the lowland parishes; as also the appearance of the finch, yellow-hammer, and other alpine birds.

Close to the "Bourg," or village of the Forest, opposite a place called "le ChÊne," is a road leading through an inland valley of surprising beauty, terminating at the Vauxbellets, the elegant mansion of Mr Frederick Mansell. An adjoining lane leads to the Hurel, a cluster of poor, dirty looking huts, evidently inhabited by people of the same order. They have the character of being a half gipsy, half beggar race, bearing the name of Pipet, and as their features are foreign to the Guernsey peasantry, none will intermarry or have any thing to do with them. The country people look upon them with an evil eye, for when they are permitted to circumambulate the neighbourhood for their "irviÈres," or New Year's gift, no one likes to send them away empty-handed, lest peradventure evil befall them, their cattle, or their children.

The country between the Forest and Torteval church is but thinly supplied with wood, and notwithstanding the orchard scenery is much less than elsewhere, the fruit is considered of a sharper and better flavour. The hay is sweet and good, and yields upon an average about one ton per vergÉe. The gardens, from being too much exposed, produce but little fruit, and in vegetables but ill accord with those of the CÂtel and some other of the parishes. In some positions, the celebrated Chaumontel pear dwindles to nothing; the fruit being very little larger than a walnut. The same may be applied to the purple and green fig, which, as a standard, readily attains perfection in other districts, but here, unless screened by a wall, comes to nothing. Melons will not ripen without the aid of glass, and grapes present but a sorry appearance with those of the vale parts.

As the "sarcleur" is as freely used here as elsewhere, the mode of using it may not be unworthy the attention of the stranger. The farmer, he will observe, has one knee on the ground, when he attacks the weeds by pushing forward the edge of the sarcleur under their roots, turning them over, and with the flat side occasionally striking them, in order to disengage the adhereing mould. From this contracted attitude, the labourer is enabled to make greater progress than might be supposed. Flax was once grown here, in common with many other parts of the island; but as the quality was inferior to that imported from the Northern parts of Europe, it was consequently stopped; notwithstanding, some thousand pounds in weight, have been exported to Bridport, Lime, and Poole.

On the South side of this parish is the "Creux Mahie," or "MaliÈre," which is an immense cavern, upwards of 200 feet in length, and 40 or 50 in width, and from 20 to 60 in height, having at times a curious vaulted roof, and a rough and uneven bottom. As the attrition of the water on this coast is very violent, it is supposed to have been formed by the waves, in common with other encroachments of the sea. On making an investigation, the visitor had better explore it by means of a bundle of furze, which being divided into several fires, and lit at distinct distances, will expose to him the whole mystification of the interior. He had also better apply to some of the neighbouring cottages for a guide, as the locality is intricate and difficult to make out.

Torteval church is a plain but neat building, and at once strikes the stranger as being remarkable for its tower and spire. From the top is an extensive view of the surrounding country.

To the artist, Torteval furnishes an highly picturesque district, and there seems, as it were, only one thing wanting, that the high and lofty crags, and abrupt rocks overlooking the sea were crowned with some "ivy-mantled tower," ruins or fragments of old castles. With this exception, it is in such scenes like this that the artist ought to roam; for here he can catch numerous ravines, projecting head-lands, and pinnacled masses, which are occasionally relieved by a few straggling sheep and distant trees. The abrupt hills break into numerous slopes and glens, leading in a Northerly direction; from hence arise those tortuous valleys which produce such diversified and rural scenery pictured in the centre of the island. The rocks furnish an abundant compound of gneiss, of which an interesting series may be discovered at "Les Thielles." Here alternate lines of dark strata may be seen traversing cliffs of reddish gneiss, which in the bay of "Bon Repos," are dashed into the most wanton state of confusion, their softer portions being worn away by the action of the pent up waves, which gush through the caverns of this fragment-like coast. In rough weather, and when the sea becomes confined within these narrow limits, the roar of the water and the lashing of the waves are such as to present one turbulent and fearful commotion, threatening instant and total destruction to any unfortunate vessel which should be driven on this dangerous coast.

In certain places, where proper shelter is granted, the soil of this parish is highly productive, and when manured at the rate of ten load of vraic per vergÉe, will occasionally produce upwards of 50 bushels of potatoes, though the general average is from 30 to 40 per vergÉe. Such soil lets for about 2l. 10s. per vergÉe. The hay is famed for its sweetness, and an English acre will throw off about three tons and a half; which, though by no means equal in quantity to that of the Valle, nevertheless gains the point in quality. Parsnips may be said to be small, and much inferior in size to those elsewhere, as the indurated state of the soil will not admit of a proper expansion of the root. These crops are about fifteen tons per acre, whereas at St Saviour's and the Valle they are from twenty to twenty two tons per acre; nevertheless they are of a good quality, and hogs not only look healthy, but yield a preferable pork. In fattening of pigs, parsnips have ever been found most profitable, as it is a root yielding a much greater portion of saccharine, mucilaginous and nutritious matter than either the potatoe, beet, turnip, or perhaps any other plant, and its general use throughout the island fully demonstrates the same. The butter is rather pale, but the quality is exceedingly good.

In the neighbourhood, the naturalist will find much to amuse him, such as the appearance of the yellow-hammer on the hedges, farms, corn-ricks, and elsewhere. After the same order he may place the cross-bill, ring-ouzel, missel-thrush, starling, mountain finch, hooded crow, and a few others. The great variety of rocks, cliffs, and creeks, also afford an excellent field for observation; and the insects and birds that give a decided preference to the altitude of this parish, in contrast with that of the Valle, furnish space for extensive research. The botanist will notice quantities of potentilla tormentilla, which is said to impart a fine flavour to the mutton of sheep feeding on it; and this is by no means improbable, as English agriculturists always regard it as a lucky event when their sheepwalks are well bestrewed with this invaluable plant; insomuch that it is not only found to heighten the quality of the mutton, but to cure the sheep of that dreadful disease the dry-rot. Some parts are so exposed to the sea and rough winds, that many of the orchards suffer severely from blight and the green canker, and the trees generally are so checked in their growth from moss gathering, that little if any fruit at certain seasons arrive to perfection. To provide against this, some few have got into the practice of scraping them, and it has been observed they use a certain instrument with considerable advantage, of which the present engraving will convey a tolerable idea.

St Peter's church has a much more ancient appearance than any other in the island, and the remains of antiquity, such as the chisel work about the windows, and other ornamental parts are almost perfect. The tracery of a rose window over the door of the North aisle, is gone, and perhaps it is difficult to decide what it meant. The church-yard is neat, and the tombstones in a much better condition than are usually met with.

Following the road, on the left hand side, is the menhir, which is a large columnar stone, in an erect attitude, and standing in a field appertaining to the estate of the Paysans. It can scarce be omitted, as it is said to attract the attention of every passer-by from its imposing station; and although the natives in the neighbourhood are entirely ignorant of its original intent and use, nevertheless hold it in a kind of veneration. It stands about eleven feet from the surface of the ground, where no doubt it has stood in the same position for some thousands of years. By some, it is supposed to be an idolatrous pillar: whereas others are of opinion it is a monumental chronogram, in commemoration of some great chieftain or notable event. Be it as it may, it certainly puts one in mind of another of these rude monuments of antiquity, stationed at the foot of the hill near the remains of the chapel of St Brioc, where is pointed out a stone bearing an impression of two enormous feet.

On the estate of Mr Thomas LainÉ, in the adjoining parish, may be seen the grave of a chieftain of old, which was discovered in the year 1818, by some workmen who were planting a tree in the cÔtil. Whilst digging the hole, they were stopped by some large stones, which being removed, there appeared the tomb of the ancient warrior. The grave was walled in, and was six feet nine inches long. There were no bones, and the present remains are in the possession of the proprietor of the estate and Mr F. C. Lukis, of Grange road. They consist of a lance, a piece of ornamental brass, a sabre in a steel scabbard, and a vase. The lance has a handle which is supposed to be cedar wood, and the vase was full of blackish composition, conjectured to be the ashes of some distinguished personage; and was found about thirty paces from the grave, in a depth of nearly fifteen inches of ground. The inner part is of the colour of a dried chesnut leaf, and the outside of a dark brown, whilst the pottery was of the finest clay. Its weight was upwards of two pounds; height, eight inches, and breadth at the top six inches. This vase, and the spear, are in the possession of Mr Lukis, and form no small addition to that gentleman's interesting collection of antiquities. The following is from a drawing taken some years back. Unfortunately the flat stones that covered the grave were not sufficiently closed, wherefore the body from the access of the external air has been decomposed, thereby only leaving us the above remains.

Taking the road for town the tourist will fall in with the CÂtel church which has been already noticed. The roads in this district, as well as in most parts of the island, are remarkably good and may furnish the traveller with another specimen of insular comfort; for here, if they are not exactly equal to some of those of England, at least have this advantage, that they are entirely exempt from tolls, bars, gates, and every other imposition, whereby his carriage or horse may be stopped at every stone's throw. The roads are generally seventeen feet broad, and the raised foot-way, that always forms the one side, from three to four; thereby allowing two vehicles to run abreast without fear of encroachment on the foot-paths. The by-lanes which he may have frequently entered, afford a tolerable specimen of what the old roads were, previously to the spirited undertaking of Sir John Doyle in 1810. Similar to the roads, they have a narrow rough causeway, but in general much higher, and in their present condition, afford many a rural retreat for the green-lane botanist, as they are more or less screened from the summer's heat by umbrageous trees. In the sylvan districts, they are not unfrequently graced with the waving verdure of the beech, and on their mossy banks put forth a profusion of herbs, primroses, and other wild flowers, forming a cool and pleasant retreat for solitude, reading, and botany.

With these, or the like reflections, the stranger may reach town, where peradventure, should his walk be towards the latter end of autumn, the approaching charms of winter yet await him.—Closed shutters, a blazing fire, slippers, and an easy chair; and, whether it be fancy or not, I cannot tell, but it strikes me forcibly, that a smoking goose and a bottle of old port, always seem more dainty when viewed beneath the sparkling rays of four candles, than the most superb banquet that ever glittered beneath the all-glorious beams of the brightest sun that ever shone out of an Eastern sky.

PRINTED BY T. J. MAUGER, GUERNSEY.