"The traveller," (observes Dr. Stanley, late Bishop of Norwich) "by day, in his passage up or down the Channel, near the eastern shores, must have observed a white tower, posted like a sentinel, on the brow of a low hammock, apparently forming a projecting ledge from the seaward base of Caer Gybi, or the Mountain of Holyhead. On approaching still nearer, he will perceive that this hammock, is, in fact, an island, torn from the main mass, but connected therewith by a link, at a distance resembling the gauze-work of a gossamer, which in its fall, had accidentally caught upon the corresponding projections of the disjointed rocks. Let him look a little longer, and he will now and then detect minute objects to and fro, and come to the obvious conclusion that this aerial pathway is neither more nor less than a connecting ladder of accommodation formed by the hand of man. The speck by night, the white tower by day, with its hammock and fairy bridge, comprise what is called South Stack, and, taken together it forms a prominent feature in the bold, romantic scenery of this iron-bound coast, and combines so many objects worthy of notice, natural and artificial, that be the observer what he may, poet, philosopher, or naturalist, he will find wherewithal to excite his curiosity, and reward his labour, in visiting a spot which has not many rivals in its kind in the wide world."
The Tourist by this time will be convinced that the description given in these pages is not over-coloured, not chimerical; for I am fully persuaded, that no one can visit this magnificent scenery without wishing for a vocabulary varied and rich as the Alpine aspect before him; but language supplies no expressions that could paint the effect of the whole assemblage upon his mind. A painter might here use his pencil with effect, and a poet indulge himself in his sublimities. But what are high and impending rocks-what are the giant heavings of an angry ocean-and what the proudest summit of the Andes, when placed in the scale of such interminable vastness as the creating, balancing, and peopling of innumerable globes? In contemplating systems so infinite, who can forbear exclaiming-What a mole-hill is our earth, and how insignificant are we who creep so proudly on her surface.
SOUTH STACK SEA-BIRDS.
Table of Contents More fleet, on nimble-wing, the gull
Sweeps booming by, intent to cull
Voracious, from the billow's breast,
Marked far away, his destined feast;
Behold him now deep plunging dip
His sunny pinions sable tip
In the green wave; now lightly skim
With whirling flight the water's brim,
Wave in the blue sky his silver sail
Aloft, and frolic in the gale,
Or sink again his breast to lave,
And float upon the foaming wave;
Oft o'er his form your eyes may roam,
Not know him from the feathery foam,
Nor 'mid the rolling waves, your ear
On yelling blast, his clamour hear.
Though but a small number amongst the many who direct their steps to South Stack may have turned their attention to ornithology, yet none visit this romantic spot without expressing their unqualified admiration in reference to the thousands of sea-birds which perform their rapid circumlocutions in every direction, filling the air with their shrill screaming voices. Presuming, therefore, that a few remarks on the natural history of these aquatic tribes may not be deemed uninteresting, we give the following information concerning some of them.
We would, however, first observe, that we cannot complain of want of music on the sea-shore, for wind and wave make there a constant melody; but we rarely listen, when near the sea, to the voice of a singing-bird; such birds are uttering their joy far away over the corn fields, or among the leafy boughs of the deep green woodland, or in the stillness of the meadow, or among the water sedges. But if the voices of our sea-birds are not in themselves musical, they please us by their association with the rude and wild scenes around us, and by their fitness for their haunts. Of little use to the sea-bird would be the sweet clear tones of the nightingale or the lark. Loud as they seem to us when uttered amid the stillness of the country, they would hardly be heard over the sea, and would be of small service as a language to the winged creatures whose homes are rocky precipices, ever dashed against by loud-sounding waves. To these the screaming hoarse voices of the sea-gulls are far better attuned, and these are indeed the only utterances which could avail them amidst the storm.
Nor is this powerful voice of the sea-bird the only fitness for its haunts which is presented to our minds as we look and listen. Besides that it possesses, in common with all birds, that wonderful power of vision, without which it could neither direct its flight with safety, nor gain any idea of distance or motion, it has immense strength of wing; and such species as the sea-gulls, which are destined to live on water rather than land, have small legs and feet; while such as are made like the curlew, to roam the marshes, have long legs, adapted for walking and wading in among them.
SEA GULLS.
Table of Contents No bird is better known, on most parts of our coast, than the common gull, which is in some places called the winter-mew. Active and restless as it may seem on the wing, it has, when in repose, little that would remind us of the frequent comparison, "blithe as a bird." We sometimes see it in gardens near the coast, with clipped wings, wandering in solitude over the paths with dejected and melancholy air, as if pining for its native sea and its companions. When free, its manners seem almost agitated as it darts eagerly on its prey, swallowing it so impetuously that it sometimes seizes the hook and bait which the fisherman has put out to take the fish, and thus wounds itself and becomes a captive. Buffon calls the clamorous and voracious gulls the vultures of the sea; they not only feed on fish, molluscous and other living animals, but seize on dead and putrid matter of every description, either floating on the waters or spread on the shore. Gulls do not dive into the water for food, but they dip now and then to seize it. They have been found by voyagers in all latitudes, and are very numerous in northern regions, where the carcases of whales and of large fish offer them an abundant store of nourishment. Hard and tough as their flesh is, yet it may be eaten; and the eggs, which are placed in large nests made of grass and sea-weeds, are very good. The gull comes to South Stack in April or May, and leaves in September.
THE GUILLEMOT.
Table of Contents Much of that loud, wild screaming which resounds among the cliffs, and which sometimes rises shrill and hoarse, even above the wildest roar of the sea, is made by some of those birds which look like the diver, and which can also both swim and dive exceedingly well. The common guillemot is commonly called the foolish guillemot, or foolish Willie, or wild Willie; though why it should be deemed inferior to other sea-birds in sense is not very apparent, as it seems to surpass many of them in this respect. It may be that when on shore the bird has an awkward appearance, as the legs are placed so far back beneath the body that they walk badly, and their wings are so short and narrow that they can scarcely flutter. Let our bird, however, but get upon the face of the waters, and we shall see it swim with grace and ease, while the very position of its legs, which renders it a bad walker, is suited to facilitate its diving. It dives very low, and the wings aid its progress as it rises to the surface when some tempting fish, or marine insect, induces it to urge onwards with great rapidity. It is by means of these short wings, too, that the guillemots clear the projecting ledges of rocks and cliffs, and jump from point to point, till they reach those high, and to us inaccessible, spots where they often build. Its single egg is placed on the bare rock. The guillemot visits South Stack about the month of April, and by the month of September, both old and young, leave the rocks, and make their dwellings, both by night and by day, on that wide world of waters for which they are so admirably fitted.
Amidst the flashing and feathery foam
The common guillemot finds a home;
A home, if such a place can be
For her who lives on the wide, wide sea.
The migratory movement of birds may be regarded as one of the most wonderful impulses possessed by animals, and it supplies an apt illustration of the Prophet's view, when he reproached the chosen nation of God for their neglect of appointed duty. "Yea, the stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed time; and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow, observe the time of their coming: but my people know not the judgment of the Lord."-Jer. viii. 7.
REFLECTIONS ON THE THREE LIGHT-HOUSES.
Table of Contents Light-houses, beacons, warning-bells, and the like, are among the most indispensable adjuncts of maritime conveyance; without them, indeed, it would be utterly impossible to conduct it with anything like regularity or safety; and if there be one thing more than another that has given me pleasure while writing these pages, it is that of recording three light-houses (viz., South Stack, Skerries, and Holyhead) connected with the thriving Port of Holyhead. If it would not be deemed too figurative and fanciful, I should denominate these light-houses-BRILLIANT EYES LOOKING OUT FOR THE RETURN OF THE WEATHER-BEATEN SONS OF THE OCEAN. What vast improvements have been made in this, as well as in other departments of nautical...
