described by Kingsley as a little white town, sloping upward from its
broad tidal river, paved with yellow sands, and having a many-arched old
bridge towards the uplands to the westward. The wooded hills close in
above the town, but in front, where the rivers join, they sink into a
hazy level of marsh and low undulations of sand. The town has stood
almost as it is now since Grenvil, the cousin of William the Conqueror,
founded it. It formerly enjoyed great commercial prosperity under the
patronage of the Grenvilles, reaching its height in the seventeenth
century. The old quay remains. The ancient bridge, which is a remarkable
one, was built five hundred years ago, and is constructed on twenty-four
piers, firmly founded, yet shaking under the footstep. The superstitious
say it is of miraculous origin, for when they began to build it some
distance farther up the river, each night invisible hands removed the
stones to their present position. It is also a wealthy bridge and of
noble rank, having its heraldic coat-of-arms (a ship and a bridge proper
on a plain field) and owning broad estates, with the income of which
"the said miraculous bridge has from time to time founded chantries,
built schools, waged suits-at-law, and, finally, given yearly dinners,
and kept for that purpose the best-stocked cellar of wines in all
Devon."

[Illustration: BIDEFORD.]

CLOVELLY.

[Illustration: THE MAIN STREET, CLOVELLY.]

[Illustration: OLD HOUSES ON THE BEACH, CLOVELLY.]

The coast of Barnstaple Bay sweeps around to the westward again, and
here, under the precipitous crags, nestling in one of the most
picturesque nooks in all England, is Clovelly. From an inland plateau of
considerable elevation the land falls steeply to the sea, with a narrow
strip of sand or shingle sometimes interposed, whereon the surf dashes
before it reaches the rocks. Dense foliage, with here and there a
protruding crag, overhangs the cliffs. Ravines occasionally furrow the
rocky wall, and in one of these Clovelly is situated, beginning with
some scattered houses on the margin of the plateau above, descending the
cliff in one steep street, and spreading out about a miniature harbor on
the edge of the sea. There are few such streets to be seen
elsewhere--not made for wheeled vehicles, but paved in a series of broad
steps, over which the donkeys and the population plod with the produce
of the fleet of fishing-boats the village owns. It is narrow, with
stran