within the entrance, and comes up to the very shore of this town;
it runs also west up almost to the town of Wareham, a little below
which it receives the rivers Frome and Piddle, the two principal
rivers of the county.
This place is famous for the best and biggest oysters in all this
part of England, which the people of Poole pretend to be famous for
pickling; and they are barrelled up here, and sent not only to
London, but to the West Indies, and to Spain and Italy, and other
parts. It is observed more pearls are found in the Poole oysters,
and larger, than in any other oysters about England.
As the entrance into this large bay is narrow, so it is made
narrower by an island, called Branksey, which, lying the very month
of the passage, divides it into two, and where there is an old
castle, called Branksey Castle, built to defend the entrance, and
this strength was very great advantage to the trade of this port in
the time of the late war with France.
Wareham is a neat town and full of people, having a share of trade
with Poole itself; it shows the ruins of a large town, and, it is
apparent, has had eight churches, of which they have three
remaining.
South of Wareham, and between the bay I have mentioned and the sea,
lies a large tract of land which, being surrounded by the sea
except on one side, is called an island, though it is really what
should be called a peninsula. This tract of land is better
inhabited than the sea-coast of this west end of Dorsetshire
generally is, and the manufacture of stockings is carried on there
also; it is called the Isle of Purbeck, and has in the middle of it
a large market-town, called Corfe, and from the famous castle there
the whole town is now called Corfe Castle; it is a corporation,
sending members to Parliament.
This part of the country is eminent for vast quarries of stone,
which is cut out flat, and used in London in great quantities for
paving courtyards, alleys, avenues to houses, kitchens, footways on
the sides of the High Streets, and the like; and is very profitable
to the place, as also in the number of shipping employed in
bringing it to London. There are also several rocks of very good
marble, only that the veins in the stone are not black and white,
as the Italian, but grey, red, and other colours.
From hence to Weymouth, which is 22 miles, we rode in view of the
sea; the country is open, and in some respects pleasant, but not
like the northern parts of the county, which are all fine carpet-
ground, soft as velvet, and the herbage sweet as garden herbs,
which makes their sheep be the best in England, if not in the
world, and their wool fine to an extreme.
I cannot omit here a small adventure which was very surprising to
me on this journey; passing this plain country, we came to an open
piece of ground where a neighbouring gentleman had at a great
expense laid out a proper piece of land for a decoy, or duck-coy,
as some call it. The works were but newly done, the planting
young, the ponds very large and well made; but the proper places
for shelter of the fowl not covered, the trees not being grown, and
men were still at work improving and enlarging and planting on the
adjoining heath or common. Near the decoy-keeper’s house were some
places where young decoy ducks were hatched, or otherwise kept to
fit them for their work. To preserve them from vermin (polecats,
kites, and such like), they had set traps, as is usual in such
cases, and a gibbet by it, where abundance of such creatures as
were taken were hanged up for show.
While the decoy-man was busy showing the new works, he was alarmed
with a great cry about this house for “Help! help!” and away he
ran like the wind, guessing, as we supposed, that something was
catched in the trap.
It was a good big boy, about thirteen or fourteen years old, that