The CAVERN in Freshwater Bay was formerly an object of no little curiosity to those who had never seen any thing similar of a more striking character; but the romantic effect, and consequently interest of the scene has been greatly injured by the fall falling-in of the arched roof. Now, however, visitors can easily investigate other caverns of a similar nature at WATCOMBE BAY (to which a good road has been made from Plumbly's Hotel,) where there is also a pyramidical rock, curiously perforated at the base.
A very common way of seeing these precipices is to go by water to Alum Bay, there land, walk up to the Light-house, and return by the beacon: or take boat at Alum Bay, and sail round the Needles or to Freshwater Bay, just as fancy may suggest. Some proceed on foot from Freshwater-gate to the Needles Light-house (about three miles), on the green sod, near the margin of the cliffs: other parties again go round by the carriage-road the whole distance in their vehicles. As, however, the grandest scenes can only be visited by boat, we shall best perform our duty as Cicerone by pointing them out as they appear in an aquatic excursion—that to parties generally affords a degree of elevated pleasure to which nothing else in the island can bear any comparison. Yet should the weather be too rough for this to be enjoyed, the visit to Freshwater may prove not the less interesting: since it is impossible for any spectacle to exceed in sublimity that which is displayed when a storm is raging around the majestic cliffs and vast detached rocks that here encounter the winds and waves of the British Channel:—
"Down bursts the gale—the surges sweep,
Like gathering hosts, against the steep,
Sheeting, with clouds of snowy spray,
Its lofty forehead, old and gray.
With sudden shriek and cowering wing,
To the wild cliff the sea-birds spring;
Careering o'er the darken'd heaven,
The clouds in warring heaps are driven;
And crested high with lawny foam,
Rushes the mighty billow home."
(Another Hotel is situated on the north side of the down, within sight of the Needles, by whose name it is distinguished.)
WATCOMBE BAY FRESHWATER ISLE OF WIGHT.
From Watcombe Bay the precipices continue to increase in height till they reach their greatest elevation (617 feet) at HIGH-DOWN, on which the beacon is erected: they are however less perpendicular here than we shall presently find them; and the more sloping portions are covered by extensive patches of turf, samphire, &c., which vary the pure white of the upright masses, though perhaps the lofty appearance of the whole is thereby rather diminished, at least to a spectator at their base. Amongst the most remarkable objects in this part of the range are Neptune's Cave, and Lord Holmes's Parlour:—the latter, a cavern of considerable height and breadth, derives its name from the nobleman, whose name it bears, having occasionally enjoyed a repast with his friends in the briny coolness of its shade, at least so tradition tells us: it can be easily entered by boat in calm weather: and when viewed from beneath its rough vaulted roof, has certainly a very romantic appearance.
A little further on is the WEDGE-ROCK, a most singular result of accident; being a piece of rock about twelve feet long by six or eight wide, exactly the shape of a wedge, resting between the main cliff and a large mass of detached chalk, just as if fixed there by some gigantic hand to effect the separation. It is often practicable to land here, and it is worth while on the part of the young and active, were it only to be satisfied how extremely deceptive is the appearance of the rocks and broken green ledges, as to their size and extent of surface,—for few would suppose (in passing by,) that the piece near the Wedge-rock contains upwards of an acre of ground.—The pyramidical mass connected with the Wedge is about fifty feet high, and a hundred long at the base.
Our friends will remember (as has been before said,) that we leave the history of many curious rocks and caverns to be given by the local watermen; for personal examination will invest a scene or object with a degree of interest which cannot be felt by the reader, who may have no expectation of ever seeing them.