When at last, after leaving inhospitable Mothecombe, the explorer comes to Revelstoke, whose name, at any rate, promises something better, he[252] finds himself in rather worse case, and understands why it was the country-people, even within a few miles of it, put their heads together and consulted with one another so deeply, and with so little result. For, beyond a ruined church, solitary9 on[253] the verge10 of the cliffs, and at the end of a tangled11 footpath12, overgrown with brambles and nettles13, there is no Revelstoke at all, and the hospitality foreshadowed by its name is seen to be a thing impossible. It is a very pleasant and romantic place to come to on a bright summer’s morning, but to come strange to it at night——! Praise be to the powers that took me, after Mothecombe, inland to Holbeton instead.
This ruined church of St. Peter, near Stoke Point, nearly overhangs the cliffs of a rocky inlet, but the building itself is so shrouded14 with ivy15, even to the apex16 of its saddle-backed roof, that it is almost reduced to terms of vegetation, and is, moreover, so overhung with trees that neither from the sea nor from any distance inland is it visible.
The nice taste generally exhibited by newly ennobled personages in their selection of titles is worthy17 of all praise. When Edward Charles Baring was created a baron18, in 1885, he had a choice, among his surrounding properties, of such names as Membland, Battisborough, Noss, Newton, and Worsewell. Noss and Worsewell, I should think, were, on the score of euphony19, quite out of the question. But—in the phrasing of the newest slang—what was wrong with Membland, Newton, or Battisborough? Nothing at all; but there is doubtless a something about the sound of Revelstoke that suggests aristocratic devilry and high jinks, infinitely20 pleasing. Not that the name necessarily signifies anything of the kind, for[254] the Middle-English meaning of “revel” was not so much a jollification as a disturbance21; which seems to have been the inevitable22 result of those ancient drinking-bouts. The “Revel” of this place-name is said to derive23 from reafful, meaning rapacious24. The place, according to this view, is christened after some early reafere, rover, or robber, a progenitor25, possibly of that “Sir Ralph (or Rafe) the Rover,” familiar to us in the poem of the Inchcape Rock, off the coast of Scotland; and the “Stoke” was his stockade26, the defence of his robber’s lair27. Who this robbing rover was—or who they were, for there must needs have been a band of them—there can be little doubt. They were an isolated28 party of the marauding Danes or vikings of the ninth century, whose main body was defeated in a.d. 851 at Wembury.
There is no difficulty raised against the pedestrian following the private drive made by Lord Revelstoke round the coast. In this manner the great piled-up slabs29 of rock forming Stoke Point can be seen, with Yealm Head and the woodlands[257] on the way. But most pilgrims who have already made a long walk of it will undoubtedly30 feel disposed to cut that detour31 out and make for the modern church of Revelstoke inland, overlooking a creek of the deep sea-channel of the Yealm and the villages of Noss Mayo and Newton Ferrers. “Newton” and “Noss” those villages are familiarly styled. They confront one another like Putney and Fulham across the Thames, the old church of Newton Ferrers in outline the fellow of the new one of Revelstoke. But the new building is the veriest upstart. It was built by Lord Revelstoke in 1882, at a cost of £29,000, and is a very prominent example of great cost, much pretension32, and little real art. Less of the ecclesiastical furnishers’ work and more solid, if less showy, fittings would have made the church more worthy its beautiful site. That riches take to themselves wings is exemplified here; for in less than ten years from the completion of this church and the ornate rebuilding of Membland Hall, came the great Baring financial crash, and with it the impoverishment33 of Lord Revelstoke.
The Yealm runs up, as a deep, narrow and beautiful salt estuary34 for some three miles inland, and excursion steamers from Plymouth penetrate35 so far as Steer36 Point, where Kitley and Coffleet creeks37 branch right and left to Yealmpton—“Yampton” locally—and Brixton, and in the middle the smaller creek of Puslinch. The fresh water stream of the Yealm, like all the streams of South Devon, comes from Dartmoor. The[258] banks of the estuary are deeply wooded and extremely picturesque38; presenting, more than any of those numerous inlets that are so notable a feature of this coast, the appearance of a gorge39; Noss Mayo standing40 on its branch creek, deriving41, indeed, the first part of its name from the projecting height—the “ness” or “nose”—on which it stands. Noss in 1849 suffered terribly from cholera42, and even more terribly two centuries ago, when only seven of its inhabitants survived.
By the row-boat ferry at Yealm Mouth the explorer is put to the tiring scramble43 towards Wembury. Descending45 the hillside fields of corn, the lonely church is seen, and over it, out to sea, the famous Mewstone appears, rising, a huge, abrupt46 and angular mass of dark limestone47 rock, a mile off-shore. Dangerous, and nearly inaccessible48 though it be at most times, it and its surrounding sea look so innocent and harmless under the sun of a still day in July that the evil reputation of that rock and these waters seems based on insubstantial grounds. Yet the Mewstone has amply occasioned the poetic49 tribute:
The next—no sound of living voice is there,
The verse points to the origin of the name of this and the several other Mewstones along this coast of Devon; the sea-mew is of course the sea-gull, and these isolated reefs so many “sea-gull rocks.” References are often found in literature[259] to the “laughter of the gulls,” but the name of “sea-mew” more nearly indicates the sound of the peevish55 cry of those birds, which closely resembles the mew of a cat.
About 1836 the Mewstone was inhabited by one Samuel Wakeham and his wife, who lived in a little rustic56 house and looked after Squire57 Calmady’s rabbits, which swarmed58 the seemingly lifeless rock. The Mewstone was made the subject of an article in a local South Devon magazine, and (according to the editor of it) drew the annexed59 reply from the “Lord of the Isles,” as the editor calls him. The thing is amusing, but smells suspiciously like an editorial invention:
“On bored the moostone septembur The fust Sur, i ham verry mutch obliGed to u for puttin a drawen of the moostone an mi howse into youre booke an I Rite60 this to tel u that no won cant61 wark from the moostone to the shoar At lo warter for a six ore gig as i nose cud be toed over the roks without runnen fowl62 of it or a smawl bote mite63 sale over in good Wether squire kill maid he nose the same i ave a been livin hear a long time an i Never seed the hole beech64 all across dry at No time whatsumdever the see warshes over sum part of them for I Nose all the roks an goes down their to pik sof crabs65 for bate66 gainst i goes a chad fishen an me wife youre hum Bell servant
“to cum hand samel warkeam
“Po. scrip
“if any genteelman what likes a wark he can wark[260] to the shoar At wembury an if they holds up there white pockethanchecuffs for a signal an ile cum off in me bote an fetch them to the island for two pence a pease an you furgot to say that there’s a bewtifull landin place dead easterd on the iland an sum stairs that i made to cum up for the ladeys an ile be verry mutch obliGe to put this in your booke you maid a mistake I be not fortey ears old i be only 39 an 6 munths.
“Samel warkeam”
“P.s. Youve a forgot to say that ive a got a bewtifull Kayl plat for the gentlemen an ladeys for To play to KeEls an shut rabets at nine pens A pease eccept the panches for me piggs an kip the jackits ov em
An my missus hasent got no hobjectsiuns to boyll the kittle an make the tay pon the Kayll Plat an hand the tay Pot out of the winder an put a tabell outside the winder on every thing hum Bell an comfortabell.”
There is no village at Wembury; only, down beneath the swelling67 contours of those hillside cornfields, a church, a farmstead, and a water-mill on the very verge of the beach: the whole so situated68 and of such a singularly unnatural69 loneliness and air of detachment that you feel sure whatever history may have to say of the place, or whatever it may leave unsaid—you feel sure, I say, that the sea has at some time come up and munched70 off a great piece of land and the village with it, and has long ago digested the whole.[261] And indeed what is left of Wembury is situated in a little semi-circular bay, where the downs descend44 to low clifflets of friable71 earthy rock, which is now slaty72, now gravelly, and again of the red Devonian sandstone, all by turns. It is as though that hungry sea had come suddenly and taken a mouthful, as you might bite a piece of bread and butter.
Descending to this strange spot, you look down upon the leads of the church tower and thence come by rough and steep tracks to the shore, where a little stream runs by the water-wheel of the old mill on to the shingle73 of the beach. So near is the wheel to the sea that in times of storm the salt water of the waves mingles74 with the fresh, and so close to the tide are the walls of the mill-house that when the winds lash75 the waters into foaming76 breakers the rooms smell of the salt spray, and are filled with the clamour of the elements.
Here the singular picturesqueness77 of the place is most fully78 revealed, and the church to which just now you descended79 is seen to stand high and boldly above the beach, on a commanding knoll80, girt about with a circular brick retaining-wall heavily buttressed81, lest it, as well as the church, and the churchyard it shores up from a sudden descent, should come toppling down in common ruin.
The age, the rugged82 beauty, and the interest of the church are almost completely hidden beneath a coating of plaster, and the grass grows[262] rankly in the churchyard, where the odd epitaph may be noted83:
Henry Kembil
died Nov. 25 1725
’Tis over with your friend
Mind That.
An arresting inscription84, surely, and not a little puzzling until it is discovered that Henry Kembil was a ferryman of the Yealm and a portion of his epitaph is a play upon the word “over,” by which, shouting across the river, the would-be passenger who is versed85 in Devon ways still brings the ferryman to him.
Save, indeed, for the hullabaloo created by the battleships out to sea and the forts off Plymouth,[263] practising their heavy guns, Wembury would scarce be associated with bloody86 war; yet if this place is really the “Wicganbeorch” of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle—as by antiquaries it is supposed to be—it saw particularly hard fighting in a.d. 851, when “Ceorl the Ealdorman, with the men of Devon fought against the heathen men (that is, the Danes), and there made great slaughter87 and got the victory.”
Those “heathen” men or Danes were the vikings, of whom early history has so much to tell; but here we see the Anglo-Saxon chronicler, in writing “Wicganbeorch,” which means Wiking-bury—adopting the advice given so many centuries later by Tony Weller to his dutiful Sam, and “spelling it with a ‘we.’”
The big gun practice of the battleships out in the Channel, whose roaring is like that of several thunderstorms growling88 in concert across the water, is very impressive, and majestic89, and altogether different from the sound of firing from the forts, producing a less resonant90 noise, like that of rude and impudent91 persons, very much out of temper, violently and continually slamming doors.
Oh! it is good to stand on the beach of a primitive92 place like Wembury when the sea breeze blows in strong, and the great curling waves come creaming up to the very walls of the mill-house, with the stinging salt particles on your face and an unutterable sense of vitality93 and freedom clothing you, and the giant waves spouting94 out yonder on the Mewstone, and the hoarse95 jamboree[264] of the great guns bellowing96 yonder. But when the sea and the air are still and the August sun glares down upon the hilly coast, why then there is nothing for it but to either rest till sundown or plod97 on exhaustedly98 in a reeking99 moist heat, welcoming every little puff100 of wind on the rises, and almost sinking to the ground in the stew-pan of the hollows.
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1
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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wayfarer
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| n.旅人 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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enquire
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| v.打听，询问；调查，查问 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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nettles
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| n.荨麻( nettle的名词复数 ) | |
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shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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apex
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| n.顶点，最高点 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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euphony
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| n.悦耳的语音 | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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rapacious
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| adj.贪婪的，强夺的 | |
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progenitor
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| n.祖先，先驱 | |
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stockade
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| n.栅栏，围栏；v.用栅栏防护 | |
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lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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28
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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32
pretension
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| n.要求；自命，自称；自负 | |
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33
impoverishment
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| n.贫穷，穷困；贫化 | |
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estuary
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| n.河口，江口 | |
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penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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creeks
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| n.小湾( creek的名词复数 )；小港；小河；小溪 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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41
deriving
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| v.得到( derive的现在分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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42
cholera
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| n.霍乱 | |
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43
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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46
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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47
limestone
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| n.石灰石 | |
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48
inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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50
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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51
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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52
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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55
peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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56
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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58
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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59
annexed
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| [法] 附加的，附属的 | |
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60
rite
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| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
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cant
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| n.斜穿，黑话，猛扔 | |
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fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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crabs
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| n.蟹( crab的名词复数 )；阴虱寄生病；蟹肉v.捕蟹( crab的第三人称单数 ) | |
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66
bate
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| v.压制；减弱；n.（制革用的）软化剂 | |
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67
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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68
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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69
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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70
munched
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
friable
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| adj.易碎的 | |
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72
slaty
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| 石板一样的，石板色的 | |
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73
shingle
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| n.木瓦板；小招牌(尤指医生或律师挂的营业招牌)；v.用木瓦板盖（屋顶）；把（女子头发）剪短 | |
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mingles
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| 混合，混入( mingle的第三人称单数 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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75
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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76
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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77
picturesqueness
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78
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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79
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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80
knoll
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| n.小山，小丘 | |
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81
buttressed
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| v.用扶壁支撑，加固( buttress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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versed
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| adj. 精通，熟练 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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89
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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resonant
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| adj.(声音)洪亮的，共鸣的 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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plod
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| v.沉重缓慢地走，孜孜地工作 | |
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exhaustedly
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| adv.exhausted（精疲力竭的）的变形 | |
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reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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