The promontory of Pleinmont forms the south-western extremity of the island of Guernsey, and, to the admirer of the wild and rugged beauties of cliff and rock scenery, affords an ever-varying treat. Lofty precipices, in which the sea-birds and hawks nestle—huge masses of granite piled into fantastic forms—covered with grey and orange-coloured lichens, and gay with the flowers of the thrift and other sea-side plants, large rocks detached from the main-land and tenanted by long rows of the sun-loving cormorant, the ever-restless ocean, now smiling and rippling under a summer sky, now lashed into fury by the wintry blast, all combine to add to the charms of this district.
Many accordingly are the parties which frequent this spot during the summer, and it is probable that some of those who have visited this place may remember a small promontory almost detached from the mainland, and forming the westernmost point of the island. To the southward of this promontory there is a sort of ravine, extending from the table-land of Pleinmont to the edge of the cliff, where a small breastwork of earth and stones has been erected. The reason why this spot, which is by no means the most dangerous along the coast, has been thus protected, is not very apparent. The existence of a small spring of water in the ravine, which keeps up a constant verdure and tempts the cattle turned out to pick up a scanty living on the common to the place, suggests a probable solution of the question; but the tradition of the peasantry assigns a far more romantic reason for the erection of the parapet than the mere safety of a few stray heifers.
They say that in days long past, the son of a farmer in the neighbourhood formed an attachment for the daughter of a family with whom his own was at variance. His affection was returned by the maiden, and the wishes of the lovers might, in the end, have triumphed over the opposition of the parents, had not the hand of the girl been promised by her friends to one of the richest men in the parish. In vain did the unhappy maiden urge the cruelty of forcing her into a marriage which her heart abhorred. In vain did her lover employ every means in his power to break off the hated contract. Their prayers and representations were treated with scorn, and the preparations for the marriage were proceeded with. The eve of the day appointed for the solemn espousal—a ceremony which in ancient times preceded and was distinct from that of marriage—had arrived. The lovers met by stealth on the cliffs at Pleinmont, and, driven to despair, mounted together on a horse, which they urged into a gallop, and, directing him down the ravine, they fell over the precipice and perished in the waves below. To commemorate the event, and to prevent the recurrence of a similar catastrophe, the barrier was erected.[80]
[80] From Miss Rachel Mauger.
“Les Fontaines de Mont Blicq, Forest.”