EXCURSION THE SEVENTH. SYDENHAM. "Sweet the frequent lapse of brook, The poetry of groves, the voice of bells CARRINGTON. HE uncommon occurrence of a mild and pleasant day in February, induced me with some other companions to put a long proposed excursion into effect. The sky was overcast, it is true, and a sleeping mist lay along the valley; but this cleared away as the morning advanced, and there remained only that humidity which announces the soft breath of spring infusing new life and vigor into inanimate vegetation. The morning air had given corresponding youthhood to our feelings; and with merry hearts, and gay countenances we mounted the vehicle which was to convey us on our way. There was no danger of suffering from an unforeseen shower of rain, as we were sheltered in one of those snug little cars which are now so common and so useful in this neighborhood. strong pony lent its aid, and carried us forward over rough and smooth ground with almost equal ease and velocity. There was something very agreeable in being A trotted over the country in this simple manner. Our carriage corresponded with the retired appearance of the route, and with the rustic character of those we met. A fashionable chariot, or a delicately made cabriolet, would have appeared ridiculous in these primitive scenes. There was a feeling of liberty too, in the absence of form and ceremony which attended such an equipage. We could pause at pleasure, and gaze about us without any dread of injuring our hardy little steed, and the strongbuilt car could proceed without danger through the roughest and narrowest lanes. Happiness is not always connected with outward show;-the merriest day of my life was spent in an Irish jaunting-car. We found that firm screws and secure fastenings were required for the newly-made roads of Heathfield, over which we travelled, amusing ourselves by observing the gradual progress of cultivation on this reclaimed ground. Some cottages had only patches of potatoes around them; others had an attempt at a garden for cabbages; while one, more advanced than the rest, could boast its enclosed field and square of springing corn. This was the one green spot, amidst the general desolation, upon which our eye rest at pleasure. It appeared to me like the recollection of a happy day which comes back occasionally to cheer our gloomier hours; a shining oasis in the wilderness of life. Plantations of young firs, thickly scattered in various directions, give a promise of future shelter to the embryo farms; these trees will certainly conduce to soften the rigor of the climate; but their growth is at present slow, owing to the bleak and inclement aspect of the heath. Those already planted, are I believe, chiefly Scotch fir, and larch. The birch, one of the most beautiful of our native trees, might be added with advantage, as it grows equally well with the larch, on exposed situations. In the north of Devon, the hedges subjected to the roughest sea breezes are planted with could young birch and hornbeam, which florish most luxuriantly, and add much to the beauty of the landscape, by their light and feathery leaves. Dr. Aikin speaks of the birch as valuable for clothing soils which are deserted by almost all other trees. The hornbeam also thrives well on the hills, bears transplanting, and is capable of resisting the wind. These mingled with the graceful ash, might be tried with advantage in the fir plantations of our mountain land. Our own thorn and holly hedges suffer much from the biting winds of the moors. I have seen some in the neighborhood of Heathfield completely fashioned by the blast, with twisted trunks and bent branches, all inclining in the direction they are blown. In summer the projecting foliage forms quite a bower, beneath which the sheep shelter themselves, laying bare the roots of the trees in their efforts to arrange their resting place; marks of their having had possession are left in the small tufts of wool which we see decorating the boughs. I remarked some birds hard at work in collecting this welcome material for their nests. The twigs were also seized upon by some solemn-looking rooks, who marched about at their ease, selecting the best or most suitable for their purpose, and then sailing away in the direction of Kilworthy. On leaving Heathfield we found these little plunderers more numerous, filling the air with twitterings as they wandered in search of their treasures. The hedges gradually became thicker and higher, and the wild scenery of the uplands was exchanged for views of the most romantic little valleys, with thatched cottages peeping from amidst the surrounding trees. The river Lyd appeared here and there meandering through the dingles. Then, as in the song, it was "gentle as a child's repose;" but a short while previously, in the time of the winter's flood, it had committed great damages by overleaping its bounds, and performing sundry other misdemeanors of a like nature. Y Seven or eight bridges were carried away by the torrent: we encountered three of these fractured structures in our way, and were compelled to turn back on account of two of them. One was completely gone, as if by a single sweep of the waters; the banks on each side were left perfectly smooth, and presented a frightful gap as we approached near them. Another had been rendered passable, and we contrived to travel over it, and to proceed through pleasant lanes, and by quiet farms, and one or two small hamlets, to our place of destination— Sydenham. "Then at the last we came into a dale, Amid two mighty hills on eyther side; From whence a sweete streame downe dyd avale, The approach is by a steep declivity leading into a retired nook, in which the house is situated. It is indeed seated somewhat low, "by the riveret side," as Risdon has it. The stream murmers on through a small wood, bearing the romantic epithet of Turtle Grove. A bridge crosses the brook immediately opposite the principal entrance to the house: hence a sweet homescene is gained of the winding "riveret," and the green meadows, opening beneath fine old umbrageous trees. Thick woods clothe the sides of the hills which encircle the valley. We could see no trace of the house until we advanced quite close to it; then we welcomed with pleasure its huge stacks of chimneys, and its large irregular pile of building, which rises to "such a height" as Risdon says, "that the house is ready to reel under the burthen." There is however, nothing imposing in this ponderous piece of architecture. It wants that appearance of strength and solidity which distinguish some of the erections of Elizabeth's reign. One portion is evidently of much older date than the rest, but this 。 part is unfurnished and desolate. It is said that Sir Thomas Wise, who beautified the building at the time of the coronation of James the First, sold his estate of Mount Wise, at Plymouth-Dock, (or Devonport) to rebuild his mansion at Sydenham, but all his gains were not sufficient to complete it, in consequence of which, one side has been neglected to this day. The sash windows in the northern gable were constructed for the convenience of Mr. Tremayne, (who died in 1794) when he was upwards of ninety, and confined to the house. Sydenham was held by the family of the Wises until about the year 1700, when Arabella, the daughter and sole heiress of Sir Edward Wise, Knight of the Bath, conveyed it in marriage to Edmund Tremayne, Esq., of Cullocombe. It remained in the hands of the Tremaynes of Devonshire, until the year 1808, when it passed, by will, into that of the Rev. Henry Hawkins Tremayne, of Helijan, in the County of Cornwall, whose son, John Hearle Tremayne, Esq., is the present proprietor. I am informed that the families of Tremayne, (namely, those of Helijan, in Cornwall, and Cullocombe, and Sydenham, in Devon) in many instances preserved their original connexion with each other, though they branched as early as the time of Henry the Seventh. As late as the eighteenth century the estates of one branch had been entailed on the other in default of issue; and the father of the present Mr. Tremayne had in early life been well acquainted with the last Mr. Tremayne, (of the elder branch of the family) though in later life they had not seen much of each other. A curious incident happened to a friend of mine, who visited the place in 1808, when the hatchment for the last Mr. Arthur Tremayne was suspended above the principal door of entrance. Mr. E. said that the house looked particularly gloomy as he approached it with his only companion, a person of Tavistock. It was hay |