rs,
seeming to them that look down to it, a deep abyss.' A story (that may
quite easily be true) is told of a man arriving late one night in
Lydford from Tavistock, to the amazement of Lydford people, who knew
that their bridge had been broken down. In the darkness the traveller
had noticed 'nothing more than that his horse had made a sudden spring;
but on being afterwards led to the chasm he was struck with a mingled
sensation of horror, surprise, and thankfulness.'

From an historical point of view, it is ludicrous to think of Lydford
and Princetown, its neighbour (as one counts neighbours on a
moor)--Lydford, in all its glory nearly a hundred years before the
Conquest, and Princetown, created by the Prince Regent. It is, I
believe, the highest village in England, and in walking up to it there
comes a feeling that this is rather like walking up a gigantic
snail-shell, and that, when one reaches the top, it _is_ the very top
and end of all things. A tranquillity reigns over the tiny town which
even the occasional sight of warders with their loaded rifles does not
break; and the workaday world seems to have been left far below.

But the desolate moor as seen from this point, the bleak winds, and very
frequent rain, brought cold comfort to the French prisoners of war, on
whose account the prison was built. Their views are probably reflected
in a gloomy description of Princetown, traducing the climate, which was
given by a French writer, quoted by Mr R. J. King. 'For seven months in
the year,' says a M. Catel, 'it is a vraie Siberie, covered with
unmelting snow. When the snows go away, the mists appear.'

The lot of the French prisoners, however, was tempered by certain
alleviations, and very many of them were allowed to live on parole in
specified towns, most of which are near the moor. In 1813 a large number
of American prisoners of war were added to the eight thousand French at
Princetown, but for some reason were not at first allowed the same
privileges. This may help to account for the aggrieved tone in which one
of them refers to his French fellow-prisoners, as well as to the
British. Andrews wrote a journal which was afterwards published. 'The
Seigneurs,' he says, 'received remittances from their friends or had
money of their own, and were able to support themselves in a genteel
manner.' They were allowed to have plays with a stage and scenery once a
month, and also 'had their schools for teaching the arts and sc