466 



On the Theory and Practice of Water- Meadows. 



verton, a neighbourhood well known to fishermen. In that beau- 

 tiful district, four mountain torrents, rushing in a perpetual fall 

 along deep wooded valleys, join to form the river on which Exeter 

 stands. The Haddyo has the finest trout, and is best for water- 

 meadows. The Exe is moderate in both respects. The Barle 

 has poor trout, and is useless, or if not utterly useless, is rated 

 so low that other streams are carried over it by wooden aqueducts 

 for irrigating the fields on its very banks. The Danesbrook has 

 no trout, and is injurious upon meadows. The Barle and the 

 Danesbrook,* though clear as crystal, are brown as a cairngorm 

 with bog-water from Exmoor. When those moors are drained, 

 the fish may yet thrive in their waters, and the winter's grass 

 become green on their banks. It may be instructive to pursue 



* I shall be forgiven for recalling to the reader that these four romantic 

 streams have twice been admitted into English poetry — once by the late 

 Dean of Manchester : — 



" Oh, how I love the woody steeps to climb 

 Which overhang thy solitary stream, 

 Clear-flowing Barle ! or tread the broken stones 

 Round which thy never-ceasing waters foam, 

 And ever and anon rough-tumbling roar 

 Beneath the oaken shade. ..... 



And thou, romantic spot where close beneath 

 Mountsey's proud brow and Anstey's stately moor 

 Danesbrook and Barle their noisy streams unite : 

 Upon your sides abrupt the pausing eye 

 Dwells charmed as it views each sparkling spring 

 Shine through the gloomy woods and trickle down." 



Miscellaneous Poetry, by Hon. and Rev. W. Herbert, 1801. 



And once again, among a later generation, in the tender recollections 

 of his boyhood, by a dear departed friend \— 



" With beating heart how many a reckless day 

 Has marked my boyish step delighted bend 

 Where Haddon s heights of purple heath ascend, 

 Where Hawkridge' wild and sullen wastes extend : 

 And verdant Storridge to the thundering wave 

 His mighty mass of oaken forest gave 

 By Haddyo's foaming flood and Danesbrook's tide 



That parted once a rival people's pride 



Here have I heard in summer's liveliest glow 

 Mid hail and mist the raging tempest blow, 

 Eternally on hoarse resounding shore 

 The infant Exe with tide impetuous roar. 



In Pixton's woods the chase was fierce and strong ; 

 At night their limbs on couch of heather spread, 

 The mountain fern wild pillow for their head, 

 And, if they listed melody, might hear 

 Our rushing Barle make music for their ear." 



The Moor, by the late Earl of Carnarvon. 



— Ph. Pusey. 



