The ride from Cromer to Mundesley will present the traveller with some pleasing scenes; the road runs almost entirely along the coast, taking in its course the villages of Overstrand, Syderstrand and Trimmingham. On a hill, about a mile through the latter village, stand the ruins of an old beacon, which commands a noble prospect both of the sea and land; in very clear weather Yarmouth is discoverable, and the cathedral spire at Norwich very plainly to be seen. Few, who pay a visit to Cromer, omit seeing this view, which is, perhaps, the most extensive in the county of Norfolk.
About two miles further on is Mundesley, a straggling village, little worthy of notice. There is one bathing machine, and some few, though the number is very small, frequent Mundesley in the bathing season. The accommodations are very confined, four or five houses at the utmost appear at all calculated for the purposes of lodgings, and those are situated close to the side of a dusty road.
The beach seems to be equally as good for bathing as at Cromer, and the walking much the same, the tide at low water leaving a fine firm land.
The prospect upon the beach to the southward differs in appearance from Cromer, by the land at Happisburgh jutting into the sea, forming a promontory, which with the church and the two light-houses has a good effect.
Every one who has made a study of nature is well aware of the different appearance of the same spot as it is affected by the times of the day and the changes of the weather; so much so, indeed, that it not unfrequently happens that the whole beauty of a view depends upon such accidental causes. This was the case with the promontory at my first seeing it; the clouds at its back were dark and heavy, opposed by a bright sun-shine from the west, giving it a strong opposition of light and shadow, which being harmonized by the fine purple tint with which it was overspread, rendered it a very pleasing object.
In a few moments, the sun declining behind a cloud, the beauty of the prospect vanished, and a heavy mass of apparently shapeless earth was left to the view; and even of that the outline was almost obliterated by the cloud descending over it in a hasty shower.
Excellent effects of light and shadow are sometimes produced even in a dull gloomy day when the sun makes an attempt to break from his obscurity; the clouds in that part becoming brilliant, their light is strongly reflected upon distant objects.
Sea views are particularly adapted, when well adorned with shipping, to give full effect to such partial lights; you will at such times, perhaps, see the vessels on the fore-ground in deep shadow, and those in the second distance strongly illuminated, while those in the last distance shall be invested with a grey or purple tint. These are called the accidents [52] of painting, and the artist cannot be too careful in his observations upon these effects, as he must entirely depend upon his memory for producing them on canvass, which from continually changing will seldom allow him to fix them on the spot.
It is a very common method in sketching a landscape (and where dispatch is required by much the most ready) to make a mere outline and to strengthen the memory by written references; and it is certainly an excellent one when the shadow of objects are in some degree permanent, but in the present instance they are so momentary and fleeting that before an outline could be sketched the very shadows which gave a value to the landscape would be lost.
It frequently happens that a spot without one beauty in itself acquire so much, under the influence of these partial lights, as to appear the “thing it is not.” These appearances however, are often very beautiful, but it is to be regretted that like all other borrowed ornaments they only serve when laid aside to render the defects of the wearer the more conspicuous.