We ascend on the north-eastern side, by a rocky winding path, in the course of which, several remains of its ancient fortifications present themselves; thus, about the middle of the hill, there is a curtain, parallel to, and flanking the approach, at whose western end is a ravelin, through which every one is to pass, walled with three embrasures, and at the angle in the eastern shoulder is a centry box to guard the passage, and there was formerly also an iron gate; after having passed this ruin, we turn to our left, and ascend by a flight of broken steps to the door of the castle, whose appearance is much more monastic than martial. The most ancient parts of the building are the Entrance, with the Guardroom on the left hand; the Chapel, and the former Refectory, or common hall of the Monks. The other parts are of a modern date, although the style of their architecture confers upon them a corresponding air of antiquity.
The Refectory, or Common Hall, from the frieze, with which it is ornamented, appears to have been fitted up, since the reformation, as a dining room for a hunting party, and is popularly denominated "The Chevy-Chace Room." The cornice represents in stucco, the modes of hunting the wild boar, bull, stag, ostrich, hare, fox, and rabbit. At the upper end of this room are the royal arms, with the date 1644; and, at the opposite end, those of the St. Aubyn family. The room is 33 feet long, 16 wide, and 18 high, and has a solemn and imposing appearance, which is not a little heightened by the antique and appropriate character of its furniture and ornaments.
The Chapel exhibits a venerable monument of Saxon architecture; its interior has lately been renewed in a chaste style of elegance, and a magnificent organ has been erected. During these repairs, in levelling a platform for the altar, under the eastern window, a low gothic door was discovered to have been closed up with stone in the southern wall, and then concealed with the raised platform; when the enclosure was broken through, ten steps appeared descending into a stone vault under the church, about nine feet long, six or seven broad, and nearly as many high. In this room was found the skeleton of a very large man, without any remains of a coffin. The discovery, of course, gave rise to many conjectures, but it seems most probable, that the man had been there immured for some crime. The bones were removed and buried in the body of the chapel. At the same time upon raising the old pavement, the fragment of an inscribed sepulchral stone of some Prior was taken up; there was also a grave stone, not inscribed, which Antiquaries have supposed to have covered the remains of Sir John Arundel, of Trerice, Knight, who was slain on the strand below, in the wars of York and Lancaster. In the tower of this chapel are six sweet toned bells, which frequently ring when Sir John St. Aubyn is resident; at this time also choral service is performed; and, on a calm day, the undulating sound of the bells, and the swelling note of the organ, as heard on the water, produce an effect which it is impossible to describe.
From the chapel, we may ascend by a narrow stone stair-case to the top of the tower. The prospect hence is of the grandest description, and is perhaps as striking as any that can occur to "mortal eye." "The immense extent of sea," says Dr. Maton, "raises the most sublime emotions, the waves of the British, Irish, and Atlantic seas all roll within the compass of the sight," whilst the eye is relieved from the uniform, though imposing grandeur of so boundless an horizon, by wandering on the north and west, over a landscape, which Claude himself might have transfused on his canvas.
On one of the angles of this tower is to be seen the carcase of a stone lantern, in which, during the fishing season, and in dark tempestuous nights, it may reasonably be supposed that the monks, to whom the tithe of such fishery belonged, kept a light, as a guide to sailors, and a safeguard to their own property; this lantern is now vulgarly denominated Saint Michael's Chair, since it will just admit one person to sit down in it; the attempt is not without danger, for the chair, elevated above the battlements, projects so far over the precipice, that the climber must actually turn the whole body at that altitude, in order to take a seat in it; notwithstanding the danger, however, it is often attempted; indeed one of the first questions generally put to a stranger, if married, after he has visited the Mount,—did you sit in the chair?—for there is a conceit that, if a married woman has sufficient resolution to place herself in it, it will at once invest her with all the regalia of petticoat government; and that if a married man sit in it, he will thereby receive ample powers for the management of his wife. This is probably a remnant of monkish fable, a supposed virtue conferred by some saint, perhaps a legacy of St. Keyne, for the same virtue is attributed to her well.
"The person of that man or wife,
Whose chance, or choice attains
First of this sacred stream to drink,
Thereby the mastery gains."
On the north-eastern side of the fabric are situated the modern apartments. They were erected by the late Sir John St. Aubyn upon the ruins of the ancient convent, in clearing away which, cart loads of human bones were dug up, and interred elsewhere, the remains probably both of the nuns and of the garrison. All that deserves notice in this part are two handsome rooms leading into each other, from which the prospect is of the most extensive description. In the first parlour, placed in niches, are two large vases, with an alto relief of statuary marble in each, relating to Hymeneal happiness.
Let us now take a review of the various interesting events, which the traditionary lore of past ages represents as having occurred at this spot, and first of the natural history of the Hill itself.
The Natural History.—The rock of the Mount has worn the same aspect for ages; tradition however whispers, that at a remote period it presented a very different appearance,—that it was cloathed with wood, and at a considerable distance from the sea! Its old Cornish name, "Carreg Lug en Kug," that is, the hoary rock in the wood, would seem to add some probability to the tradition. It appears also from the original charter of the Confessor, that the Mount was in his time only nigh the sea, for he describes it expressly as Saint Michael near the sea, "Sanctum Michaelum qui est juxta mare." What this distance was the charter does not inform us, but the words of Worcester, who gained his information from the legend of Saint Michael, are sufficiently decisive, "this place was originally inclosed within a very thick wood, distant from the ocean six miles, affording the finest shelter to wild beasts." With respect to the period and causes of the catastrophe which have changed the face of this country, we have already offered some observations.