We then got into our carriage and drove along the pier; Colonel Le Couteur, my militia aide-de-camp, riding by my side, with other officers, and by Albert’s side Colonel Le Breton, commanding the militia, who, 5,000 strong, lined the streets, and were stationed along the pier. The States walking in front. The crowds were immense, but everything in excellent order, and the people most enthusiastic, though not more so than the good Guernsey people; the town is much larger, and they had much longer time for preparations; the decorations and arches of flowers were really beautifully done, and there were numberless kind inscriptions. All the country people here speak French, and so did the police who walked near us. It was a very gratifying reception. There was a seat in one of the streets filled by Frenchwomen from Granville, curiously dressed with white handkerchiefs on their heads. After passing through several streets we drove up to the Government House, but did not get out. General Gibbs, the Governor, is very infirm.
We then proceeded at a quicker pace—the walking procession having ceased—through the interior of the island, which is extremely pretty and very green,—orchards without end, as at Mayence. We passed the curious old tower of La Hougue Bie, of very ancient date, and went to the Castle of Mont Orgueil, in Grouville Bay, very beautifully situated, completely overhanging the sea, and where Robert, Duke of Normandy, son of William the Conqueror, is said to have lived.[62] We walked part of the way up, and from one of the batteries, where no guns are now mounted, you command the bay, and the French coast is distinctly seen, only 13 miles distant. The people are very proud that Mont Orgueil had never been taken; but I have since learnt it was taken by surprise and held for a few days; Guernsey, however, never was taken.[63]
[62] Mont Orgueil was also called Gouray Castle. Duke Robert the Second, the Conqueror’s son, lived at Gouray Castle in Normandy: Duke Robert the First, commonly called “Robert le Diable,” was in Jersey for twelve days; and, during that time, probably occupied Gouray Castle in that island. Hence may have arisen the tradition of Robert the Second having lived there, of which there is no evidence.—Ed.
[63] The public Records certainly state that Guernsey was taken by the French in 1339. But the same records show that it was again in the possession of the English as early as January 1340. The tradition, therefore, “that Guernsey never was taken,” may be true, as the occupation by the French might only have been partial—viz., of Castle Cornet and the vicinity; and this might have been magnified, by report in England, into a conquest of the whole island. Popular traditions, contradicted at first by documentary evidence, are often eventually found to be true. Everything depends upon the meaning of the words “taken” and “conquered.” It could hardly have been said that England had been “conquered” by the Normans, while the gallant Hereward held out in the Isle of Ely.—Ed.
We then returned to our carriage, and proceeded to the pier by a shorter road, and through a different part of the town. There is a peculiar elm-tree in the island, which is very pretty, and unlike any other,—the leaf and the way it grows almost resembling the acacia. The crowd was very great and the heat very intense in going back.
We re-embarked in the barge, but had only to go a few yards to the “Fairy.” The situation of the harbour is very fine,—and crowned with the fort, and covered by numbers of people, was like an amphitheatre. The heat of the sun, and the glare, had made me so ill and giddy that I remained below the greater part of the afternoon, and Albert went out for an hour on the “Fairy.”
Falmouth Harbour, Friday, September 4.
A beautiful day again, with the same brilliantly blue sea. At a quarter to eight o’clock we got under weigh. There was a great deal of motion at first, and for the greater part of the day the ship pitched, but getting up the sails steadied her. From five o’clock it became quite smooth; at half-past five we saw land, and at seven we entered Falmouth Harbour, where we were immediately surrounded by boats. The evening was beautiful and the sea as smooth as glass, and without even a ripple. The calmest night possible, with a beautiful moon, when we went on deck; every now and then the splashing of oars and the hum of voices were heard; but they were the only sounds, unlike the constant dashing of the sea against the vessel, which we heard all the time we were at Jersey.
Mount’s Bay, Cornwall, Saturday, September 5.
At eight o’clock we left Falmouth and proceeded along the coast of Cornwall, which becomes bold and rugged beyond the Lizard Point and as one approaches Land’s End. At about twelve we passed Land’s End, which is very fine and rocky, the view from thence opening beautifully. We passed quite close by the Longships, some rocks on which stands a lighthouse. The sea was unusually smooth for the Land’s End. We went beyond a point with some rocks near it, called The Brisons, and then steamed back; the famous Botallack mine lies here. A little before two we landed in this beautiful Mount’s Bay, close below St. Michael’s Mount, which is very fine. When the bay first opened to our view the sun was lighting up this beautiful castle, so peculiarly built on a lofty rock, and which forms an island at high water.