“here in London’s central roar,
    Where the sound of those, he wrought for,
    And the feet of those he fought for,
    Echo round his bones for Evermore!”

The cold is sudden and most severe.  I fear it will hustle some of those dear old Admirals to rejoin their ancient comrade—­the “Saviour of the silver-coasted isle.”

* * * * *

May 1881.

    “The Harbour Bay was clear as glass—­
    So smooth—­ly was it strewn! 
    And on—­the Bay—­the moonlight lay
    And—­the—­Shad—­ow of—­the Moon!”

—­thus was it at 11 p.m. on the night of the 4th of May, when I looked out of my bedroom window at Place Castle, Fowey, on the coast of Cornwall!!!!—­(and we must also remember that Isolde was married to the King of Cornwall, and lived probably in much such a place as Place!)

* * * * *

I caught a train on to Fowey, which I reached about 5.  There I found a brougham and two fiery chestnuts waiting for me, and after some plunging at the train away went my steeds, and we turned almost at once into the drive.  There is no park to Place that I could see, but the drive is sui generis!  You keep going through cuttings in the rock, so that it has an odd feeling of a drive on the stage in a Fairy Pantomime.  On your right hand the cliff is tapestried, almost hidden, by wild-flowers and ferns in the wealthiest profusion!  Unluckily the wild garlic smells dreadfully, but its exquisite white blossoms have a most aerial effect, with pink campion, Herb Robert, etc., etc.  On the left hand you have perpetual glimpses of the harbour as it lies below—­oh, such a green!  I never saw such before—­“as green as em-er-ald!”—­and the roofs of the ancient borough of Fowey!—­I hope by next mail to have photographs to send you of the place.  It perpetually reminded me of the Ancient Mariner.  As to Place (P.  Castle they call it now), the photographs will really give you a better idea of it than I can.  You must bear in mind that the harbour of Fowey and a castle, carrying artillery, have been in the hands of the Treffrys from time immemorial....  We went over the Church, a fine old Church with a grand tower, standing just below the Castle.  The Castle itself is chiefly Henry VI, and Henry VII.  I never saw such elaborate stone carving as decorates the outside.  There are beautiful “Rose” windows close to the ground, and the Lilies of France, of course, are everywhere.  The chief drawing-room is a charming room, hung with pale yellow satin damask, and with beautiful Louis Quinze furniture.  The porphyry hall is considered one of the sights, the roof, walls, and floor are all of red Cornish porphyry....

Frimhurst, May 10, 1881.