139 
and apparently disdainfully frowning on the new and primly neat 
specimens of modern residential architecture, which are rapidly shutting 
itin. Coaches and carriages are always procurable at Launceston for 
the journey to Boscastle wi@ Camelford. A few miles after leaving 
Launceston, Brey Down is passed to the left, and the road crosses the 
summit of Davidstow Moor. The smooth and level uplands of this 
high table-land are swept almost continuously by the prevailing bois- 
terous south-west winds, and no tree or bush can stand against the 
occasionally terrific gusts—but when crossing the moor on a fine 
summer’s afternoon, as we did, its bare, wild undulations receive the 
shadows of passing clouds, reminding one of the soft gentle tints of the 
Roman Campagna, whilst the shimmer of the not too distant Atlantic 
adds brightness and variety to the lovely scene. The summit of the 
moor is 1,100 feet above the sea, and here is a cottage, said to be the 
highest inhabited house in England, the tenants of which from the 
exposed bleak situation must lead a wretched aud precarious existence. 
Wherever the fall of the land affords protection from storms, a few 
scant crops are grown ; whilst the bottoms of the valleys, though very 
narrow, are richer, and partially wooded. After leaving the moor, 
Camelford is reached ; and thence the road to Boscastle, descending 
gradually, winds for the last three miles amongst richly-wooded and 
cultivated dells, reminding one of some of the Welsh or Scotch valleys. 
Boscastle is at a turn of the road just as the valley opens out to the 
ocean, and exposes the surface of its hilly sides to the Atlantic blasts, 
where all vegetation excepting grass ceases. In this opening is the 
harbour, formed in the estuary of the little Valency river that we have 
been following. We first come to a small inner basin lined with quays. 
This is about 40 yards across, and long enough for 15 or 20 fishing 
boats to lie in. The basin is entered from the sea by a deep and 
narrew channel winding in an S shape through dark slaty rocks. Out- 
side the channel is the outer harbour, if harbour it can be called, being 
merely a narrow bay, open to the ocean, where the waves roll in and 
rebound in foam from off the precipitous headlands, which in case of the 
_ southern one rises to a height of 600 feet,and confines the raging 
billows within its cavernous bosom. The smallness of the entrance, the 
difficulty of hitting it on such a stormy coast, and the sudden turn of 
S the channel so close to the entrance, prevent vessels of any size visitiag 
Boscastle. Even to ensure the safety of the small vessels that arrive, a 
