148 SUPPLEMENTARY OBSERVATIONS ON THE STATISTICAL REPORT FOR THE QUARTER, Which ended on the 31st day of December, 1846. SINCE the appearance of our last Report of the Statistics of Plymouth, we have obtained a copy of the Registrar-General's Report for the same period, which supplies some of the desiderata, the want of which we then regretted. Among these was the return of those complaints which served so remarkably to swell the mortality of the season. We have now before us the return made by the Registrars of both Parishes, which we copy, as being too intimately connected with the history of our locality to be omitted in the pages of the South Devon Chronicle. The return for the Parish of St. Andrew, is particularly valuable for the tabular conspectus it contains of the causes of death. ST. ANDREW. The number of deaths (203) is 43 per cent above the mean mortality of nine preceding autumns; an unusually large proportion of the whole number (about one-third) being persons above 60 years of age. The mortality has been gradually increasing through each successive month, and the excess appears to have been caused by the inclemency of the weather during the month of December, cutting off the aged, and those predisposed by chronic diseases of the respiratory organs. The following table is perhaps the shortest and best mode I can adopt, to show to what extent these remarks are correct; from which it will be seen, that whilst the mortality, from six specified causes, has been gradually advancing, from 14 in October to 49 in December, the number of deaths from all other causes have been nearly the same in each month. Deaths, 103; being 36 more than in the corresponding quarter of 1845. Twenty-one cases of Bronchitis, and nine of Phthisis, have been registered. The mortality amongst the aged has been very heavy, no less than 26 being above 70 years. A large proportion of deaths has also occurred of infants, 33 being under two years. These reports will be found to bear out fully the observations we hazarded last month upon the causes of the increased mortality of the quarter. In the absence of a Meteorological Register for the period, we may perhaps assume the mean of the observations on the temperature of each month, made at the five following places, as corresponding with tolerable accuracy with what we might expect to be the mean result of observations made in our immediate vicinity. 66 It will be observed in this table, which, with the exception of the column headed Plymouth, has been taken from the Registrar-General's most valuable report, that Truro and Exeter exhibit the lowest mean amount of temperature for the quarter; but that Exeter has the advantage in every month, notwithstanding the more southerly latitude and more insular position of Truro. Upon the temperature we have assumed for Plymouth, it would be unfair to found any reasoning, as, however strong the probability that it is not very wide of the truth, it is at present purely hypothetical. The "high price of provisions," the depression of trade," which follows as an inevitable consequence, and "distress," the result of the two former taken together, are referred to, as the Registrar-General informs us, by the Registrars of Stockport and Little Bolton, as causes of the high mortality for those districts. As the Registrar-General feelingly observes:-"The failure of the potatoe crop, and the dearness of provisions, left the poor very ill able to provide the additional clothing and firing required by the severities of the weather, and their sufferings must have been aggravated where their earnings were at the same time diminished. As this distress' is not adverted to in the preceding September quarter, and but rarely in the December quarter, it will not account for the excessive mortality of the half-year. In connection with cold, however, want was the cause of many deaths in December." Not the least important part of the report is that relating to the potatoe disease, which it places under, to us at least, a perfectly novel and instructive point of view. The potatoe, it appears, is not only important as a means of providing food for the perpetually increasing numbers of our population, but as a prophylactic against complaints which are incidental to a rigorous climate, and which were formerly endemic among us. "No mention is made of the potatoe disease having had any direct connection with the mortality. The potatoe, in a state of disease has, no doubt, been extensively consumed, without giving rise to any specific malady in man, or, indeed, having any appreciable connection with the disorders of the bowels and fever, which grew prevalent about the time the last crop came into use. The absurd and unfounded fancy that the cholera epidemic, so fatal to infants at the breast, and old people, as well as others, is caused by fruit, or has any connection with the plum season, derives not the slightest support from the observations of the year, when the supplies of fruit were unprecedentedly scanty. Dr. Baly, the physician to the Milbank Penitentiary, showed, some time ago, that scurvy was very prevalent in prisons, from the dietary of which potatoes was excluded. The potatoe contains a small quantity of vegetable acid, in combination with potash (bitartrate of potass, or cream of tartar). It is certain that scurvy, which was formerly common, has almost disappeared since the potatoe entered largely into the food of the population. If, now that the potatoe has grown scarce, this disease, characterised, among other symptoms, by swoollen bleeding gums, again become prevalent, its simple prophylactics should be had recourse to." Thus, as a means of preserving the health of the poorer classes more especially, the restoration of this valuable esculent should be a primary object, not only with the political economist and the philanthropist, but with that useful body of society which constitutes sanatory committees. It is deeply to be deplored, as we have observed on a former occasion, that the Registrars of Stonehouse and Stoke Damerell have not the spirit to rise above the vulgar level, and emulating their brethren of St. Andrews and Charles, furnish us with such returns as might enable us to include those populous and important districts in our Quarterly Reports. It is from the results of a large number of observations, spread over an extended surface, and embracing every possible variation of circumstances, alone that any truthful or valuable conclusions can be deduced. We have however endeavoured, as far as calculation can be trusted to for approximate results, to get at the probable amount of increase in those two districts during the five and a half years which have elapsed since the last enumeration in 1841. At that time the numbers stood as follow: Plymouth. Stoke Damerell 36,527 33,822 9,711 80,060 On the last day of December, 1846, the population of Plymouth was 38,575, showing an increase, in five years and a half, of 2,048, or as nearly as possible, 5.606456 per cent. Assuming, therefore, a corresponding rate of increase for the two remaining parishes, or 5.6 per cent, the increase for Stoke Damerell may be taken at 1,894, and for Stonehouse at 535,-numbers which cannot vary very widely from the truth. Upon this supposition, the population of the three towns, on the first day of the present year, may be taken to have stood very nearly as follows: Plymouth. 38,575 35,716 10,246 84,537 Giving an aggregate population of eighty-four thousand five hundred and thirty-seven. We are happy, on something like rational grounds, to correct the exaggerated statements we are in the habit of hearing, with respect to the supposed overgrown population of this neighbourhood, which it is very much the fashion to set down in round numbers at 100,000, an amount which it will take a vastly more rapid rate of increase to attain, from natural causes at least, under twenty yearsimmigration no doubt adds considerably more to our annual numbers than we can form any estimate of before the results of the next registration become known-but this increase is more likely to manifest itself in the Plymouth than the Devonport district. Our Devonport neighbours, no doubt with a laudable spirit of emulation, are in the habit of boasting of their 40,000 inhabitants, forgetting that to make up that number they must draw upon nearly half the population of their neighbouring and independent town of Stonehouse. Geographically connected with Plymouth rather than Devonport, we might with equal if not greater justice do the same, and mount our numbers up to 43,698. The actual population of Plymouth, on the 1st of March, was 38,619. THE CASTLE OF THE TOR. A LEGEND OF DEVON. Ir was a bright morning in early summer, and the forest of Warleigh (now dwindled into a mere strip of wooded land), was looking gay, with the bright clothing it had just donned, to meet the joyful season. At that period, about the ninth year of the reign of John, the forest extended many miles in every direction around the Tor, which raised its lofty head, crowned by the towers and turrets of a single baronial castle, high above the wood, and seeming to despise the denizens of the forest, many of the very noblest of whom bowed their feathery crests at the castle's foot, looked in frowning pride upon the quiet lake below. On the side of the Tor nearest the lake, which was then very precipitous, but which has crumbled away since then so as to afford a much easier ascent, a postern opened from an enormous tower that crowned the very verge, called Sir Godfrey's tower, and from it proceeded a little path, which, by many intricate windings and zig-zags, led down the steep hill side. It was a passage but seldom used by the inhabitants of the castle, as the main entrance was the opposite extremity of the buildings, and led by a drawbridge which crossed a deep moat, by which that part of the building was defended, into extensive and beautiful glades, and was the nearest way to all their usual resorts. Of this place, as well as of the castle, we shall have to speak more particularly hereafter. Near the bottom of this little path, ascending leisurely, and singing as he went, advanced, on the day mentioned, a grey friar of the order of St. Francis, between whose person and dress was exhibited a very great contrast, for while the form and coarseness of the latter raised no ideas in the mind but those of fasting, and mortification, and penance of every kind, the former, by its round and ruddy "nothede," as Chaucer calls it, from which the hood was thrown back, its portly rotundity of stomach, and the leisurely ease and firmness of its tread, led one to think of the vension pasties, and black jacks of humming ale, that must have contributed to produce it. His face was of a round character altogether, for there was not a straight line in it, and in the bright eyes that twinkled from beneath his jet black eyebrows, the puckering of his chubby cheeks, and his ruddy mouth, there seemed as little of mortifi cation as might be. Everything about himself, even his curly black tonsure had such an air of jollity, that clad as he was in the grey Franciscan garb, his tout ensemble was more likely to remind one of John Falstaff, knight, compelled to do duty in a pulpit than ought else. Nor was he chanting a De Profundis or Te Deum, but a song much sung by sturdy yeomen, and very-far-from-clerical men at arms. It is now many years since, as a stranger, I wandered myself about this beautiful spot,-one of the loveliest of lovely Devon, and was leaning, somewhat wearied, against the oak, indulging in thoughts such as these, when hearing a feeble step behind me, I turned suddenly round, expecting to see (so completely had dreams of olden time taken possession of me) one of the very subjects of my thoughts, some old man in antique garb, coming to enjoy the balmy air in his accustomed place. It was an old man, though his modern dress quickly put to flight my dream. He was white-headed, and the weight of many winters had bent a form that had evidently been once powerful and noble ; still, though age seemed heavy on him, and old Time had ploughed many a furrow in his brown cheek, there was a smile of contented happiness upon his fine features that prompted me to address him, for I love to hold converse with serene old age. I was about to do so, when he prevented me by commencing the conversation himself. "A fine evening, sir," he said, in a quiet subdued tone that harmonised well with the hour and his own appearance. I returned his greeting warmly, and in a few minutes we were engaged in a most interesting conversation. He was a living chronicle, and could tell not only of all that had happened about the place in his own time, but many a legend, both sorrowful and gay, of times gone by. So charmed was I with the old man's talk, his quiet contentment, and the kindliness and simplicity of his heart, that on parting with him, I promised to meet him again beside his good old friend (as he called the oak, patting its rugged bark), and many a happy hour do I owe to that old simple man, seated in the summer evenings on the grass, listening to his endless fund of legendary lore. One of his tales I purpose now to offer to the reader, and perhaps hereafter, should I find those who would read this with as much pleasure as I write, I may give some more. It is a melancholy pleasure to recall to my mind the image of my aged friend, who now sleeps quietly beneath the elms in the adjacent church-yard. One evening, when I had joined him, as usual, he led me on one side until the lofty wooded brow of Warleigh Tor became visible from behind the church-yard elms. |