“The term for Alexander’s studies with Mr Jacob was just finished, and a few days only remained ere the party was to be dispersed, when I determined upon devoting the whole morning to the search of such curiosities as the Coast and Rocks near my habitation produced…I marched forth, attended only by M. d’Arblay’s favourite little Dog, Diane, with an empty large silk bag…I began my perambulations by visiting the promotory called Capstone; or rather attempting that visit; for after mounting to nearly its height, by taking a circuitous path from the town, by which alone the ascent is possible, the side of the Promontory being a mere precipice overlooking the Ocean a sudden Gust of wind dashed its force so violently against us, that in the danger of being blown into the sea, I dropt on the turf, at full length, and saw Diane do the same… “. 

So she decided to explore the coast with its abundance of pebbles and to inspect when the sea was calm and still so one couldn’t tell if the tide was in or out. Down to edge of sea, clear, smooth, wind subsided, she collected pebbles not a creature in sight. She was drawn to entrance of Wildersmouth, who gained its name from a series of recesses formed by rocks only to be entered by the sands at low tide, she went along to the last recess and went in to find a sort of chamber with no roof but clear blue sky. The top was a rough, steep barren mountain and to the left hand side mountainous layers of slate, and moss, to the right was elevated Capston.

Near the top was a cavern, and she espied something brilliant whiteness, jawbone and teeth of some animal, Diane brushed forward whimpering. Fanny continued search but Diane so whimpering she descended – sea had risen – the lady she had seen reading in a nearby recess was gone and her recess filling with water – the dog got through a gap and Fanny followed but her shoe got stuck. She managed to climb up a rock, no seat only a prop holding part of the slab, the wind now abated and sea calm.

She looked wistfully onward to the main ocean in the hope of espying some vessel or Fishing boat, with the intention of spreading and waving her Parasol…but nothing appeared. She pulled the dog up by hook in the parasol latched in collar and he dropped at her feet.

“The next waves reached to the uttermost end of my chamber, which was now all sea, save the small rock upon which I was mounted. What a situation for a female alone without power to make known her situation – without any resource for escaping its tremendous menace, but by painfully, laboriously, and perilously standing upright, and immoveably on the same spot, till it should be passed – without any human being knowing where to find her, or suspecting where she might be – a Female, and past 60 years of age!”
“A wave …more stupendous in height, in breadth, in foam and in roaring noise than any which had preceded it dashed against my Rock…this moment I believed to be my last of Mortality but the wave was the last of rising tide and oh what thanksgiving – already I felt myself restored to my husband – my son – and every dearly loved friend I possessed in the world.

Nor was this all I had to apprehend, many of the Irish Insurgents who had fled from trial, after the last revolt were said to have crossed the Bristol Channel and to have landed on the northern coast of Devonshire which was said to be infected with Banditti that occasionally sought refuge in the caverns and subterraneous hiding places of the Wildersmouth.

Thus passed the to me most memorable day. The night came on – there was no moon, but the sea by its extreme whiteness, afforded some degree of pale light, when suddenly, I thought I perceived something in the air…I looked up at the Capston, nothing was there. I looked to the opposite side – what were my sensations to perceive two human figures…One of them was her son but he was not able to get to her. However, an old seaman who knew the rocks and caves, made his way towards her, having to deal with the barking of her frightened dog.

“He then brought me a Coat from my son. It rained softly, but incessantly. “Is it his own?’ I cried. ‘Yes’. ‘Take it then back, and entreat him to put it on. The Wind is abated and I can hold my Parasol.’” 

She was rescued and her son told her of his agony and searches when he discovered her missing.

“2 days after I visited the spot of my captivity – but it had entirely changed its appearance. A Storm of equinoctial violence had broken off its pyramidal height, and the Drift of Sand and Gravel and fragments of Rocks had given a new face to the whole Recess. I sent for the Seaman to ascertain the very spot: this he did, but told me that a similar change took place commonly twice a year; and added, very calmly, that 2 Days later I could not have been saved from the Waves.”