the water, and, as above, lessening the weight of it.
But besides this the whole TERRA FIRMA, or body of the land which
makes this part of the isle of Britain, seems to be one solid rock,
as if it was formed by Nature to resist the otherwise irresistible
power of the ocean. And, indeed, if one was to observe with what
fury the sea comes on sometimes against the shore here, especially
at the Lizard Point, where there are but few, if any, out-works, as
I call them, to resist it; how high the waves come rolling forward,
storming on the neck of one another (particularly when the wind
blows off sea), one would wonder that even the strongest rocks
themselves should be able to resist and repel them. But, as I
said, the country seems to be, as it were, one great body of stone,
and prepared so on purpose.
And yet, as if all this was not enough, Nature has provided another
strong fence, and that is, that these vast rocks are, as it were,
cemented together by the solid and weighty ore of tin and copper,
especially the last, which is plentifully found upon the very
outmost edge of the land, and with which the stones may be said to
be soldered together, lest the force of the sea should separate and
disjoint them, and so break in upon these fortifications of the
island to destroy its chief security.
This is certain–that there is a more than ordinary quantity of
tin, copper, and lead also placed by the Great Director of Nature
in these very remote angles (and, as I have said above, the ore is
found upon the very surface of the rocks a good way into the sea);
and that it does not only lie, as it were, upon or between the
stones among the earth (which in that case might be washed from it
by the sea), but that it is even blended or mixed in with the
stones themselves, that the stones must be split into pieces to
come at it. By this mixture the rocks are made infinitely weighty
and solid, and thereby still the more qualified to repel the force
of the sea.
Upon this remote part of the island we saw great numbers of that
famous kind of crows which is known by the name of the Cornish
cough or chough (so the country people call them). They are the
same kind which are found in Switzerland among the Alps, and which
Pliny pretended were peculiar to those mountains, and calls the
PYRRHOCORAX. The body is black; the legs, feet, and bill of a deep
yellow, almost to a red. I could not find that it was affected for
any good quality it had, nor is the flesh good to eat, for it feeds
much on fish and carrion; it is counted little better than a kite,
for it is of ravenous quality, and is very mischievous. It will
steal and carry away anything it finds about the house that is not
too heavy, though not fit for its food–as knives, forks, spoons,
and linen cloths, or whatever it can fly away with; sometimes they
say it has stolen bits of firebrands, or lighted candles, and
lodged them in the stacks of corn and the thatch of barns and
houses, and set them on fire; but this I only had by oral
tradition.
I might take up many sheets in describing the valuable curiosities
of this little Chersonese or Neck Land, called the Land’s End, in
which there lies an immense treasure and many things worth notice
(I mean, besides those to be found upon the surface), but I am too
near the end of this letter. If I have opportunity I shall take
notice of some part of what I omit here in my return by the
northern shore of the county.