Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1865-11-18
MISCELLANY.
ACOyITE.

III
land. the suburban terraces and villas
stretch far away till they become lost or
dotted among the luxuriant foliage SO
pleasantly relieved by the blue hills of
Devon. Turn Stewards anu tie picture
= \ bright and glorious one. Immedi-
ateIy below US, and, as it seems, under
Our very feet, lies the Sound. smooth as
an inland lake and bright and glitter
ing as a sheet OF glass; not movement
on the surface, except the almost Imper-
ceptibIe ripple following the dip of the
oar. or the varying brightness which
marks tLe track of the sailing boat.
Studded with vessels of all sizes, from
msu-of-war living at anchor 20 a small
fishing craft, not a sound Is heard ex-
cent rIe subdued and melOdious cry of
the sailors as they toll at the capstau;
the expanse of the sea is broken only by
Drake Island, and the long break-water
with its refuge and lighthouse, is abFapt-
II but delightfully."- terminated by the
refreshing green and deep, rich shad
ows of the woody part OF Mount Edge
cumbs, where the sycamores and chest
nuts bend over the water edge; and
then, with every graduation of natural
color, the landscape melts away into the
faint blue of far-off Cornwall.
1t was ON an evening like this, after
the iabors of the day, that L strolled
across the Hoe, and So far down to the
water-side to summon one of the water
men, always in readiness, for an hours
sail. Seated comfortably and indOlently
in the stern, we picked our way among
the vessels in the Sound, and passing
by the island have mentioned, with its
batteries, and steering west of the
breakwater, made for distant point on
the Cornwall side, which is the first
break IN the sea view from the Hoe.
Opposite this end of the breakwater, and
where stands the lighthouse, the land
makes a sudden bend, and with bold
curve terminates in the headland | have
Just indicated.
In the midst OF this bay, and con-
cealed at first from view 10y the woods
and hills of the Mount Edgecumb es-
tate, lies the little village of Cawsand,
place that in the palmy days of Snug
CLING, bore no very good repute. Whilst
staying ut Plymouth, had often heard
of, but had never before seen 1t, SO 1
determined to land at the p INT, dis
charge the boat and walk quietly home,
taking Cawsand in my way, a distance
OF seven or eight miles.
A more delightful half hours walk
by the side OF the hill, with wood and
flowers ON each side and stretching down
to the shingly beach, it is impossible to
conceive, and the sweet and balmy air
OF this Devonshire summer, combined
with an almost summer climate, the va
ried and picturesque scenery of home.
had seated myself on a stone wall be-
fore descending the path that led to
the village, aud was contemplating
lazily, the calm and peaceful spot be-
fore, with the singularly narrow streets
aud quaint old fashioned dwellings,,
where you might so utterly shake hands
with friend across the way from the
upper windows. Influenced, perhaps,
by the calm and stiffness around, l was
falling into a sentimental train of
thought, and wondering how crime and
violence could find their way into pla-
cid little nook like this, when / was
aroused, close by my ear, by
"a fine evening this, sirl''
The speaker was an elderly man, ap-
parently about sixty years OF age, with
all the signs of sea faring man about
him, the bronzed face, gray hair, and
good humOred look, common to his or
der. BY no means indisposed to con-
verse, / accepted his remark as an invi-
tatiOn, and We were soon engaged in an
amiable conversation. He had been at
one period of his life, / learned, coast
guardsm..n, and had some good stories
about smugglers and his encounters
with them, and his recOllectiOns, dating
back nearly century, we at last came
to talk of the doings of the press-gang.
tDoyOu remember them?" i asked.
'Oh, easy enough" he replied.
though was but youngster at the
time; but then, with what I've actually
seen or heard say by others, seem To
know as much as if had been pressed
myself"
Then you were never pressed?" 4
asked.
Never myself; perhaps 1 was too
young; otherwise / don't know how it
was L kept clear OF them. In places
near seaport towns especially, 1t was
nothing at one time to have the gang
come down and carry off ali the likely |
young fellows they could find. Why, |
bless YOU, MASTER" he continued. lit
was a common thing for one of them to
come ali by himself, and perhaps In
another kind OF dress, 50 as Won
mighn't suspect hum, and, going .a6out
among the taverns and shops, get to
know where the sort of men were to be
found, and then, returning with the
rest OF the gang, carry them off aboard |
ship, withOuta by-yOur-leaye, or a good |
bye to your friends or family"
"But they never entered nto private |
houses" l exclaimed, bearing in mind
the national boast of an Englishman's
castle.
''Wel, replied my companion, 81
don't go so far as to say that they would
go to burst a door IL; but, ifthey found
it open, why, in they.went; and many
nasty knock put nails IN collins as
eonstables or GROWERS never heard of. |
knew to one case" hecOntinued, with |
an accent and sphraseOlogy of Devon
shire, where young fellow-ay, and
as likely one as ever drawed breath
was took away the very night before he
was married, and in sight OF his sweet
heart and h friends tool 1t was
strange matter, that was, altogether"
he added, almost to himself.
Pray tell ii, / said, becoming in
terested.
''lts long story, master, and its dry
work talking" he replied with asignif- |
cant twinkle in his eye. though his face
maintained its gravity.
so 1t is said /, "and the warm
NJ L