“The Boscawen-ûn circle seems to have consisted originally of
twenty stones. Seventeen of them are upright, two are down, and a
gap exists of exactly the double space for the twentieth. We found
the missing stone not twenty yards off. A farmer had removed it,
and made it into a gate-post. He had cut a road through the
circle, and in such a manner that he was obliged to remove the
offending stone to keep it straight. Fortunately the present
proprietress is a lady of taste, and has surrounded the circle
with a good hedge to prevent further Vandalism.”
Of the Mên-an-tol, at Boleit, we have received the following description
from Mr. Botterell, who supplied Mr. Hunt with so many of his Cornish
tales:—
“These stones are from twenty to twenty-five feet above the
surface, and we were told by some folks of Boleit that more than
ten feet had been sunk near, without finding the base. The
Mên-an-tol have both been displaced, and removed a considerable
distance from their original site. They are now placed in a hedge,
to form the side of a gateway. The upper portion of one is so much
broken that one cannot determine the angle, yet that it worked to
an angle is quite apparent. The other is turned downward, and
serves as the hanging-post of a gate. From the head being buried
so deep in the ground, only part of the hole (which is in both
stones about six inches diameter) could be seen; though the hole
is too small to pop the smallest, or all but the smallest, baby
through, the people call them _crick-stones_, and maintain they
were so called before they were born. Crick-stones were used for
dragging people through, to cure them of various diseases.”
The same gentleman, writing to one of the Cornish papers, informs the
public that a few years ago a rock known by the name of Garrack-zans might
be seen in the town-place of Sawah, in the parish of St. Levan; another in
Roskestal, in the same parish. One is also said to have been removed from
near the centre of Trereen, by the family of Jans, to make a grander
approach to their mansion. The ruins, which still remain, are known by the
name of the Jans House, although the family became extinct soon after
perpetrating what was regarded by the old inhabitants as a sacrilegious
act. The Garrack-zans may still be remaining in Roskestal and Sawah, but,
as much alteration has recently taken place in these villages, in
consequence of building new farm-houses, making new roads, etc., it is a
great chance if they have not been either removed or destroyed.
Mr. J. T. Blight, the author of one of the most useful little guide-books
of Cornwall, “A Week at the Land’s End,” states that some eight or ten
years ago the ruins of the ancient Chapel of St. Eloy, in St. Burian, were
thrown over the cliff by the tenant of the estate, without the knowledge
or permission of the owner of the property. Chûn Castle, he says, one of
the finest examples of early military architecture in this kingdom, has
for many years been resorted to as a sort of quarry. The same applies to
Castle-an-Dinas.
From an interesting paper on Castallack Round by the same antiquarian, we
quote the following passages, showing the constant mischief that is going
on, whether due to downright Vandalism or to ignorance and indifference:—
“From a description of Castallack Round, in the parish of St.
Paul, written by Mr. Crozier, perhaps fourteen or fifteen years
ago, it appears that there was a massive outer wall, with an
entrance on the south; from which a colonnade of stones led to an
inner inclosure, also formed with stones, and nine feet in
diameter. Mr. Haliwell, so recently as 1861, refers to the avenue
of upright stones leading from the outer to the inner inclosure.
“On visiting the spot a few days ago (in 1865), I was surprised to
find that not only were there no remains of an avenue of stones,
but that the existence of an inner inclosure could scarcely be
traced. It was, in fact, evident that some modern Vandal had here
been at work. A laborer, employed in the field close by, with a
complaisant smile, informed me that the old Round had been dug
into last year, for the sake of the stones. I found, however,
enough of the work left to be worthy of a few notes, sufficient to
show that it was a kindred structure to that at Kerris, known as
the Roundago, and described and figured in Borlase’s ‘Antiquities
of Cornwall.’ ... Mr. Crozier also refers to a stone, five feet
high, which stood within a hundred yards of the Castallack Round,
and from which the Pipers at Boleit could be seen.
“The attention of the Royal Institution of Cornwall has been
repeatedly called to the destruction of Cornish antiquities, and
the interference of landed proprietors has been frequently invoked
in aid of their preservation; but it unfortunately happens, in
most cases, that important remains are demolished by the tenants
without the knowledge or consent of the landlords. On comparing
the present condition of the Castallack Round with a description
of its appearance so recently as in 1861, I find that the greater
and more interesting part has been barbarously and irreparably
destroyed; and I regret to say, I could draw up a long list of
ancient remains in Cornwall, partially or totally demolished
within the last few years.”
We can hardly hope that the wholesome superstition which prevented people
in former days from desecrating their ancient monuments will be any
protection to them much longer, though the following story shows that some
grains of the old leaven are still left in the Cornish mind. Near Carleen,
in Breage, an old cross has been removed from its place, and now does duty
as a gate-post. The farmer occupying the farm where the cross stood, set
his laborer to sink a pit in the required spot for the gate-post, but when
it was intimated that the cross standing at a little distance off was to
be erected therein, the man absolutely refused to have any hand in the
matter, not on account of the beautiful or the antique, but for fear of
the old people. Another farmer related that he had a neighbor who “haeled
down a lot of stoans called the Roundago, and sold ’em for building the
docks at Penzance. But not a penny of the money he got for ’em ever
prospered, and there wasn’t wan of the hosses that haeld ’em that lived
out the twelvemonth; and they do say that some of the stoans do weep
blood, but I don’t believe that.”
There are many antiquarians who affect to despise the rude architecture of
the Celts, nay, who would think the name of architecture disgraced if
applied to cromlechs and bee-hive huts. But even these will perhaps be
more willing to lend a helping hand in protecting the antiquities of
Cornwall when they hear that even ancient Norman masonry is no longer safe
in that country. An antiquarian writes to us from Cornwall: “I heard of
some farmers in Meneage (the Lizard district) who dragged down an ancient
well and rebuilt it. When called to task for it, they said, ‘The ould
thing was so shaky that a wasn’t fit to be seen, so we thought we’d putten
to rights and build’un up _fitty_.’ ”
Such things, we feel sure, should not be, and would not be, allowed any
longer, if public opinion, or the public conscience, was once roused. Let
people laugh at Celtic monuments as much as they like, if they will only
help to preserve their laughing-stocks from destruction. Let antiquarians
be as skeptical as they like, if they will only prevent the dishonest
withdrawal of the evidence against which their skepticism is directed. Are
lake-dwellings in Switzerland, are flint-deposits in France, is
kitchen-rubbish in Denmark, so very precious, and are the magnificent
cromlechs, the curious holed stones, and even the rock-basins of Cornwall,
so contemptible? There is a fashion even in scientific tastes. For thirty
years M. Boucher de Perthes could hardly get a hearing for his
flint-heads, and now he has become the centre of interest for geologists,
anthropologists, and physiologists. There is every reason to expect that
the interest, once awakened in the early history of our own race, will go
on increasing; and two hundred years hence the antiquarians and
anthropologists of the future will call us hard names if they find out how
we allowed these relics of the earliest civilization of England to be
destroyed. It is easy to say, What is there in a holed stone? It is a
stone with a hole in it, and that is all. We do not wish to propound new
theories; but in order to show how full of interest even a stone with a
hole in it may become, we will just mention that the _Mên-an-tol_, or the
holed stone which stands in one of the fields near Lanyon, is flanked by
two other stones standing erect on each side. Let any one go there to
watch a sunset about the time of the autumnal equinox, and he will see
that the shadow thrown by the erect stone would fall straight through the
hole of the _Mên-an-tol_. We know that the great festivals of the ancient
world were regulated by the sun, and that some of these festive
seasons—the winter solstice about Yule-tide or Christmas, the vernal
equinox about Easter, the summer solstice on Midsummer-eve, about St. John
Baptist’s day, and the autumnal equinox about Michaelmas—are still kept,
under changed names and with new objects, in our own time. This
_Mên-an-tol_ may be an old dial erected originally to fix the proper time
for the celebration of the autumnal equinox; and though it may have been
applied to other purposes likewise, such as the curing of children by
dragging them several times through the hole, still its original intention
may have been astronomical. It is easy to test this observation, and to
find out whether the same remark does not hold good of other stones in
Cornwall, as, for instance, the Two Pipers. We do not wish to attribute to
this guess as to the original intention of the _Mên-an-tol_ more
importance than it deserves, nor would we in any way countenance the
opinion of those who, beginning with Cæsar, ascribe to the Celts and their
Druids every kind of mysterious wisdom. A mere shepherd, though he had
never heard the name of the equinox, might have erected such a stone for
his own convenience, in order to know the time when he might safely bring
his flocks out, or take them back to their safer stables. But this would
in no way diminish the interest of the _Mên-an-tol_. It would still remain
one of the few relics of the childhood of our race; one of the witnesses
of the earliest workings of the human mind in its struggle against, and in
its alliance with, the powers of nature; one of the vestiges of the first
civilization of the British Isles. Even the Romans, who carried their
Roman roads in a straight line through the countries they had conquered,
undeterred by any obstacles, unawed by any sanctuaries, respected, as can
hardly be doubted, Silbury Hill, and made the road from Bath to London
diverge from the usual straight line, instead of cutting through that
time-honored mound. Would the engineers of our railways show a similar
regard for any national monument, whether Celtic, Roman, or Saxon? When
Charles II., in 1663, went to see the Celtic remains of Abury, sixty-three
stones were still standing within the intrenched inclosure. Not quite a
hundred years later they had dwindled down to forty-four, the rest having
been used for building purposes. Dr. Stukeley, who published a description
of Abury in 1743, tells us that he himself saw the upper stone of the
great cromlech there broken and carried away, the fragments of it making
no less than twenty cart-loads. After another century had passed,
seventeen stones only remained within the great inclosure, and these, too,
are being gradually broken up and carted away. Surely such things ought
not to be. Let those whom it concerns look to it before it is too late.
These Celtic monuments are public property as much as London Stone,
Coronation Stone, or Westminster Abbey, and posterity will hold the
present generation responsible for the safe keeping of the national
heirlooms of England.(59)