"One of the most remarkable instances of the mildness of your climate is the unusually early appearance of frog's spawn: this I observed at Gulval on the 8th of January. According to White's Naturalist's Calendar (which was made from observations taken in Hampshire, a warm and early county,) the earliest and latest appearances there specified, are February 28th, and March 22d. Taking therefore the second week in March as the average for its appearance, you should seem, in this instance, to be full two months earlier than Hampshire."
"In this neighbourhood (near Coventry) I rarely see any of our species of Swallow, except perhaps an occasional straggler, before the second week in April, but in the year 1818 I was not a little gratified at observing upwards of a score of Sand Martins, (Hirundo Riparia,) sporting over the marsh between Gulval and Marazion, on March 31st. The wind at that time was N. W. and the thermometer at 50° in the shade at noon. The Chaffinch (Fringilla Cœlebs,) I heard, in Cornwall, begin to chirp his spring note the last day of December. With us he is seldom heard until the beginning of February. The Viper, (Coluber Berus) a great lover of warmth and moisture, occurs more frequently in Cornwall than in the midland counties."
We have already stated that our summers are as remarkable for coolness, as our winters are desirable for mildness. This circumstance necessarily renders our fruit inferior in flavour to that which is produced in the inland counties; indeed the grape very rarely ripens in the open air, and the apricot tree seldom affords any fruit, except in a few favoured spots. The tree of the greengage plum is nearly equally unproductive. The walnut and the common hazel-nut very seldom bear fruit. Apples for the table, however, are plentiful and good; and our strawberries may be considered as possessing a decided superiority.
Why then, it may be asked, should not this climate be as eligible to invalids as that which they are generally sent across the Channel to enjoy? In reply we will venture to assert, and without the least fear of being contradicted by those, whose experience renders them competent judges, that it is not only equally beneficial, but far more eligible, unless, indeed, the patient can possess himself of the cap of Fortunatus, to remove the difficulties and discomfiture of a continental journey. But since the present volume is, in some measure, written for the information and guidance of those who are seeking a winter's residence, in pursuit of health, the author has been induced to subjoin a short essay, in the appendix, for the purpose of examining the comparative pretensions of the several places to the reputation for superior mildness and salubrity, which they have acquired.
From the peninsular situation of Cornwall, and its proximity to the Atlantic ocean, over which the wind blows, at least, three-fourths of the year, the weather is certainly very subject to rain, and it is found that when other parts of England suffer from drought, Cornwall has rarely any reason to complain; this peculiarity seems highly congenial to the inhabitants, as well as to the soil; a Cornishman never enjoys better health and spirits than in wet seasons, and there is a popular adage, that "the land will bear a shower every day, and two upon a sunday;" this, like most of our popular sayings, although it requires to be understood with some grains of allowance, is founded on observation and experience. The philosophical explanation of the fact is obvious; the shallowness of the soil, and the large proportion of siliceous matter which enters into its composition, together with the nature of its rocky substratum, necessarily render a constant supply of moisture indispensable to its fertility. And we here cannot but admire the intelligence displayed by Nature in connecting the wants and necessities of the different parts of Creation with the power and means of supplying them; thus in a primitive country, like Cornwall, where the soil is constantly greedy of moisture, we perceive that the rocks, elevated above the surface, solicit a tribute from every passing cloud; while in alluvial and flat districts, the soil of which is rich, deep, and retentive of water, the clouds float undisturbed over the plains, and the country very commonly enjoys that long and uninterrupted series of dry weather which is so congenial and essential to its productions.
It deserves, however, to be noticed, that the rains of Cornwall are, in general, rather frequent than heavy.
"Not such as wintry storms on mortals shed
Oppressing life, but lovely, gentle, kind,
And full of every hope, and every joy,
The wish of Nature."——
It has been satisfactorily ascertained, by means of the rain guage, that the actual quantity of rain that falls is rather under the mean of the whole of England; and Dr. Borlase observes that "we have very seldom a day so thoroughly wet, but that there is some intermission, nor so cloudy, but that the sun will find a time to shine." This circumstance may, perhaps, in part depend upon the narrow, ridgelike form of the peninsula, over which the winds make a quick, because they have a short passage, and therefore do not suffer the clouds to hang long in one place, as they frequently do in other situations; we are, besides, much indebted to Ireland for this moderation of the elements; she may be truly denominated the Umbrella of Cornwall, for were not the vast body of clouds, which the winds bring from the Atlantic, attracted and broken by her hills, we should most probably be deluged with more constant and excessive rain.
Notwithstanding the supposed moisture of the Mount's Bay, the air is not less fit for respiration, nor less beneficial to the valetudinarian, than that of drier situations. The porous nature of the shelfy substratum soon disposes of any excess of water; so that, after a short cessation of rain, the invalid may safely venture abroad to enjoy the delightful walks which surround the bay; at the same time, the numerous promontories which distinguish this coast, promote a constant circulation of breezes around their extremities, so that mists seldom linger, and we never experience those sultry calms, or suffocating fogs, which not unfrequently infest other parts of our island.
As Cornwall is directly exposed to the expanse of the Atlantic ocean, lying south-west of it, we cannot be surprised that the winds, which blow so generally from that quarter, should occasionally produce very violent storms. Their approach is frequently predicted by the experienced fisherman, from the agitation of the water along shore, a phenomenon which is called a "ground swell;" and which is probably occasioned by a storm in the Atlantic, with the wind west; in which case, as the storm proceeds eastward, the waves raised by it will outgo the wind, and reach the eastern coast long before it. A tremendous instance of this kind occurred, during the residence of the author of these pages, on the night of Sunday, January 19th, 1817. The storm assumed the character of a hurricane, and acting in conjunction with a spring tide, impelled the waves with such fury, that they actually broke over the mast heads of the vessels which were lying within Penzance harbour, and bore down every thing before them; two of the four pillars recently erected for the reception of a light were thrown down, and several of the foundation stones of the pier removed. The windows of the bath-house were demolished, and the whole of its furniture washed into the sea. The green between Penzance and Newlyn was torn up, and several boats, lying on the strand were actually carried into the neighbouring meadows. The towns of Newlyn and Mousehole suffered corresponding damage, and several of their houses were washed away. The road between Marazion and St. Michael's Mount was torn from its lowest foundation, and stones of more than a ton in weight, though clamped together with massy iron, were severed and removed from their situation. The turnpike road between Penzance and Marazion was, in many places, buried with sand; and in others, broken up by the violence of the waves, and covered by the sea to the depth of from three to five feet. Had the violence of the storm lasted but a few hours longer, who will venture to say that the two channels would not have been united by the inundation of the low land which constitutes the isthmus, and the district of the Land's end been converted into an island!