The white Cliffs of Albion is so favorite a poetical designation of the English coast, that it is with some degree of pride we hail our "sea-girt isle" as surpassing in the magnificence and splendor of this characteristic, every other part of the kingdom; for even Shakspeare's cliff at Dover, immortalized as it is by the pen of the bard himself, is little more than half the elevation of some of the chalk precipices of the Isle of Wight,—which, at Freshwater, rise from the bosom of the blue ocean with a perpendicular face of the most dazzling whiteness, the sublime altitude of more than 600 feet!—being nearly one-half higher than the pinnacles either of St. Paul's or Salisbury Cathedrals.
A stranger from the inland districts, who may never have seen a precipice upon a grander scale than is presented by the sides of some deep chalk-pit, would be at a loss to imagine wherein consisted the beauty and the interest of such seemingly monotonous scenes; especially when informed that they are indebted to no borrowed ornament from either tree or shrub: and indeed it would prove equally difficult on our part to furnish a comprehensive definition. One eminent writer enthusiastically eulogises their appearance as "singularly elegant when viewed at a proper distance; and with the Needle Rocks, constituting a whole that is scarcely to be equalled:"—another declares that "the most lofty and magnificent fabrics of Art, compared with these stupendous works of Nature, sink in idea to Lilliputian size:"—and a third, that "the towering precipices of Scratchell's Bay are of the most elegant forms;" and "the pearly hue of the chalk is beyond description by words, probably out of the power even of the pencil."
As almost every visitor has a card of all the local curiosities presented to him by some of the boatmen of the place, it would be useless here to describe individually the several objects deserving personal observation: we shall therefore confine our notice to a few of the most prominent,—commencing at ...
FRESHWATER-GATE,
Remarkable for the brilliancy as well as beauty of the surrounding promontories, of which an enchanting view is presented as we descend from the downs. The outline of the precipices is here extremely bold, forming several charming little coves or bays, and penetrated at the base by numerous deep Caverns of the most romantic formation, that are exceedingly interesting to visitors when explored. But what contributes most to the picturesque character of the scenery is the presence of several immense isolated rocks of grotesque shape, that rise from 30 to 60 feet above the sea. Two of these will particularly attract attention, namely, the Arched, and the Deer-pound, [Footnote: This name was given to the rock from the fact, it is said, of a deer having leaped on it from the main land, when closely pursued by the hounds of the late Lord Holmes, about 70 or 80 years ago: at which time the separation could have been but a few yards! Whatever credit may be attached to this anecdote by the reader, it at least serves to show the opinion which the older inhabitants entertain of the progressive waste of land at this part of the coast (the face of the cliffs being constantly exposed to the weather and undermining action of the sea); and we remember it was but a few years back when the top of this same rock was covered with a considerable patch of green sod.] they are the remains of the original cliff, but being composed of more stubborn and adhesive materials, have long resisted the lashing waves and warring elements, while the parent cliffs are constantly receding and forming a wider separation.
Here are two respectable Hotels: the Albion, close to the beach; and Plumbly's, on the cliff: both of which offer to their guests the charm of hearing ...
——"The restless waves that roar,
And fling their foam against the rocky shore."