ion. Years ago a limelight was so
arranged as to be used on board ship for illuminating objects at a great
distance. By its means, an intended attack of torpedo vessels could be
detected. It was employed also in the Abyssinian expedition, for
illuminating the advance camp when there was a possibility of it being
attacked by Theodore's troops. Now, however, electric lights are used
on board all the first-class men-of-war, incandescent lamps being fitted
for internal use, and arc lights for signalling and searching purposes.
All this information we obtained while slowly gliding by the Start. The
Start light, from its height and brilliancy, can be seen much further
off than the Eddystone light, which we sighted just before morning. A
head wind springing up, and the tide being against us, we ran back past
Bolt Head into Salcombe Range. The sun had not risen as we entered the
harbour. The scenery of the entrance is wild and romantic. High and
rugged rocks appeared above our mast-head. We brought-up on the eastern
side of the harbour. As soon as the anchor was down we piped to
breakfast.
Just beneath Bolt Head we observed the ruins of an old castle, once a
stronghold of importance, which held out bravely for the Royalists under
the governor, Sir Edward Fortescue. For four months he and his gallant
followers withstood the numberless cannon-shot poured in from the
heights above, and at length only yielded on honourable terms to the
leader of the Parliamentary forces, who allowed them to walk out with
their arms and colours flying.
Uncle Tom and Jack came on board to breakfast, and we spent a jolly
morning, in spite of the pouring rain. I could never fancy taking a
cruise alone in a yacht, especially without a crew, as two or three
gentlemen have done; but nothing is more pleasant than sailing in
company with another yacht, with a merry party on board each vessel, and
exchanging visits, sometimes "mealing"--as Uncle Tom called it--on board
the one, sometimes on board the other, as we always did when in harbour.
At sea this, of course, could not be done, except in calm weather.
Although Salcombe Range is rugged and wild in the extreme at its mouth,
there are some beautiful country houses higher up the harbour; one
belongs to the Earl of Devon, and another to Lord Kinsale. So genial is
the climate, that myrtles, magnolias, oleanders, and aloes grow in
profusion, and fill the air with their fragrance. Vines and
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