360 

 THE WRECKERS OP ST. AGNES. 



THERE are few parts of England more wild and desolate than the 

 mining districts of Cornwall. Nature, as a counterpoise to the treasures 

 which she has lavished on this region of her bounty, has imparted to its 

 features a most forbidding aspect. Bleak and barren plains, unenlivened 

 by vegetation, with neither tree nor shrub to protect the traveller from 

 the wind that sweeps across their surface, and danger in every step, 

 from the innumerable shafts by which they are intersected. 



It is truly an inhospitable country; and the nature of the inhabitants 

 seems quite in accordance with its unfriendly characteristics repulsive 

 and ungainly in appearance, disgusting and ferocious in manner, cruel 

 by nature, and treacherously cunning. Not a step have they gained 

 from the barbarous state of their savage ancestors. I allude more par- 

 ticularly to the town and district of St. Agnes, near Truro, and its 

 people. St. Agnes is a small place, situated on the coast of Cornwall, 

 about ten miles from Truro, across one of those sterile plains, almost 

 covered with the refuse of mines, and perforated in every direction, like 

 a gigantic rabbit-warren. The road, so called, through this waste, is 

 little better than a track, which it would be difficult and dangerous to 

 traverse, without a guide. Many a wanderer has found a nameless 

 grave, by venturing rashly across those dreary moors. 



It was late in the autumn when I visited St. Agnes, and it was to- 

 wards the close of a gloomy day that I found myself at the residence of 

 Capt. Thomas, so I shall call him, whose acquaintance I had made in 

 London, and who had succeeded in persuading me, that the only sure 

 way to make a fortune was, by investing a trifle of ready money in a 

 copper-mine. He held the rank of captain by the custom of the coun- 

 try, as a mine is conducted, like a ship, by a captain and officers. The 

 Captain was rather a decent specimen of his caste ; for, where all are 

 combinations of the miner, smuggler, wrecker, and, consequently, 

 ruffian, a man even of decent manners is something. He had one fault, 

 however, which I afterwards discovered : he would have considered it 

 a most meritorious employment, to have robbed even his own father, 

 rather than not to have robbed at all. 



Our repast being over, and I, like a witless booby, having invested 

 my bank-notes in his pouch, in exchange for certain bits of paper he 

 was pleased to call shares ; and having received from him, in addition 

 to such valuable considerations, the most flattering congratulations on 

 the prospect of immediate wealth, he proposed an adjournment to the 

 ' Red Dragon,' or red something ; I almost forget, it is so long since ; 

 where he assured me I should meet a most respectable society, and 

 where I might pick up much valuable information. They were all 

 particular friends of his captains and pursers of mines. 



It was a dismal night. When we sallied out, a thick mist was gather- 

 ing around : the sea was breaking against the huge rocky cliffs of the 

 adjacent coast, with a deafening roar ; and at intervals was heard the 

 distant thunder. It was with no uncomfortable feeling, that I felt my- 

 self safely housed at the rendezvous of the choice spirits of the mines. 



The party to which I was introduced was seated at a long deal table, 

 in a spacious apartment, half kitchen, half tap-room ; at the upper end 



