" One hour on
the stone was generally sufficient for a scolding woman, for she could
see the approach of the water that would presently rise well above her
waist, and very few chose to remain on the stone rather than repent,
although of course it was open to them to do so.
After negotiating the intricacies of one other small creek, we entered
the ancient town of Dartmouth highly delighted with our lovely tramp
along the River Dart.
We were now in a nautical area, and could imagine the excitement that
would be caused amongst the natives when the beacon fires warned them of
the approach of the Spanish Armada, for Dartmouth was then regarded as a
creek of Plymouth Harbour.
The great fleet invincible against us bore in vain
The richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain.
[Illustration: THE MOUTH OF THE DART FROM MOUNT BOONE.]
Dartmouth is one of the most picturesquely situated towns in England,
and the two castles, one on either side of the narrow and deep mouth of
the Dart, added to the beauty of the scene and reminded us of the times
when we were continually at war with our neighbours across the Channel.
The castles were only small, but so were the ships that crossed the seas
in those days, and they would no doubt be considered formidable
fortresses then.
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