Berry Pomeroy was a lovely spot, and the foliage was magnificent as we
walked up to the castle and then to the village, while every now and
then we came to a peep-hole through the dense mass of bushes and trees
showing a lovely view beyond. The ruins of the castle were covered with
ivy, moss, and creeping plants, while ferns and shrubs grew both inside
and out, forming the most picturesque view of the kind that could be
imagined. We were fortunate in securing the services of an enthusiastic
and intelligent guide, who told us many stories of events that had taken
place there, some of them of a sensational character. He showed us the
precipice, then rapidly becoming obscured by bushes and trees, where the
two brothers Pomeroy, with their horses, were dashed to pieces. The
castle had been besieged for a long time, and when the two brothers
found they could hold out no longer, rather than submit to the besiegers
they sounded their horns in token of surrender, and, blindfolding their
horses, mounted and rode over the battlements into the depths below! The
horses seemed to know their danger, and struggled to turn back, but they
were whipped and spurred on to meet the same dreadful fate as their
masters.
Pages:
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057