The Dorset County Express and Agricultural Gazette.
Dorchester, Dorset, England, 1881-06-28 00:00:00

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For forest • secrtt lore.

Cutil we reach the extremity of this lovely scene, sad we
r.ach it far too ~on. se are Inclined to imsgine our.
*elves on a centinent lake se isolated do we mem td be
1,. this weguiotoe I spot: MIL won the ben I in the rivtr
apprise. U at its continuation, and the spll to bmkan.
Neer the end of Chie fore 4 Is a beautifully construchui
ho it-house, no doul t bed ingiog ti the rusident• of Sharp-
barn H ;ua-, which we are now in full view of. Here was
burn E lward Drew, a celehrat id Recorlor of the City of
London, in the 16th 0e014r1; but during the reign of Gee.
IV., the house and riculy-wooded lands a 'Joining were
held by ths Bastard (senile. a heir of which Fryman:hi
Dartmouth in Psrliameet. The Dart now gradually
_

dit-g;Ses, get more and more
co itracted ; and, &awash &lents of interest claim our
attention and admiration still, yet the beautiful and
romisit ra portion of the river has gone. Just here, tee
water twine at half t de, a number of herons ate feeding
from some swampy lithie Islands; but, being timorous,
they take to wins at our approeco, and ensconce them-
selves at the verge of tee wooded banks, whi re they dis-
turb from their meditations myriads of wild doves. At
this post. situate one of the largest rookeries in Eng-
land ; hut strante to oar we do not see more then two or
three of the birds. We already see the tower of Totoess
Chirch, a mite &heal, and, alter passing " Windwhisde
C Mare," on a bleak eminence to our right, arrive at the
fine shooting ranged the Totnes. Volunteers, which extends
over the level greensward on the very edge of the Dart,
Here we are at last opposite the "Island" which the Duke
of S menet kindly grants as • pleasure ground for the
inhabitants of Totnees, and we should only like to gni°,
such • privilege at Bridport. This beautiful little island is
approathed by boats, and the spot is, no doubt, much
resorted to by the resident.. We stop here for • quarter
of an hour, which allows us barely time to travels.' the
mein street of Tans's, but the =vireos se we approach to
and return from this ancient town, mores us that the
locality would be full of interest to the antiquary,
botanist, geologist, entomologist, and the many disciples
of Isaac Walton. We are now 'teaming down the Dut,
but are never for even • moment weary of the delightful
scenery which repeats itself, and which we have so imper-
fectly portrayed. Onoe again at Dartmouth we place
ourselves under the care rif Captain Comma, and in • few
minutes are gliding out of the beautiful haven. At the
mouth of the harbour we pass the "Drummond Castle,"
one of the largest steamers In the world, which entered for
provisions whilst we have been exploring and enjoying the
"Beauties of the Dart" The journey home, was, of
c3urse, • repetition of what we attempted to picture last
week, and, without • malcontent on board who could have
tired of any one item on his menu, we landed a: Bridport
in safety before our appointed hour. Happily there wee
an entire "bunco of seal di seer, which so many dread,
and which but few experience. In conclusion, let the
reader, if he or she is • lover of nature, visit the beautiful
and renowned spot. and we venture to snort that dis-
appointment must be impossible. Time with his sickle
hu removed the ancient Britains from their rude huts
which formerly were grouped along the banks, and slum
the towers, castles, and fortifications have been hurled to
ruin, change btu convulsed the fertile banks; the watch-
lira of our &posit ire are extinguished, never probably to
he lit again, the old monarchs of the wood and format have
gone to decay. nourishing the wood-girded hills of to-lay.
Yes, many a change have passed over the ever changing
banks of the English thine, bet though ruin still follow
ruin, and time bath heaped his wrecks upon its sunny
side., the Dart flow, on as of yore, without change, with-
out decay, without death. Improvement. at times with a
ruthless, at times with a national hand, has swept the
wrecks of ancient glory away from its banks; time hu
spared the grand old river, a pleading relic, which mur-
mur', rises, and falls amidst • paradise of soft bream,
strange murmurs, and fond memories.