The earliest appreciation by the outside world of the great natural
wealth of England was evidenced by those perilous voyages out into the
unknown sea beyond the Pillars of Hercules, undertaken by the early
Phoenicians in order to trade for tin with the inhabitants of what we
now call Cornwall. By one of the odd philological quirks of slang, the
word "tin" is now endowed with a meaning inclusive of every form of
wealth--a strange modern acknowledgment of the earliest form of English
value. Many of these ancient mines are still worked, as we shall see for
ourselves when we visit St. Neot. This centuries-old continuance of
tin-mining is strongly in accord with all things Cornish, for in that
westernmost corner of England change does not intrude, and as things
have been so they continue to be. We will assume that the pilgrim has
reached Plymouth, that western outpost of Devon, seated beside her ample
harbour, whose many bays and estuaries running up into the land seem to
symbolise Father Neptune laying his mighty hand upon the smiling
country. Ferrying across to the Cornish side, we proceed by pleasant
woody roads giving glimpses of Plymouth Harbour, and on to solid
stone-built Liskeard. Pushing past along the high road that leads to
Bodmin and the Land's End, we shall be at some pains to notice a little
road that, four miles beyond Liskeard, turns off to the right up a
narrow valley. A mile of pretty windings past several ancient but still
active tin mines, brings us to St. Neot, snugly stowed away among the
hills. Here, in this small community, which shows no trace of ever
having been any larger, nor any indication of becoming so in the future,
stands one of the most interesting glass shrines in England. The church
has the appearance of many another of the Perpendicular school--a type
so common throughout the land. One notices that it is lighted by an
ample number of large windows, each of four lancets. Once inside the
door, however, and the change from the usual to the extraordinary
is immediate. The roomy interior is practically unbroken by the
usual divisions of chancel, nave, &c., and this very appearance of
spaciousness assists admirably in showing off the windows to the
greatest advantage. The oldest ones are at diagonally opposite ends of
the church from each other, and are found in the north-westerly and
south-easterly corners. The many small groups or scenes (each installed
in a canopy) into which these are subdivided render their legends all
the more attractive, because they depict so many different points in the
story's development. The architecture of their canopy frames shows that
they date from rather early in the fifteenth century. In addition to
this more common style of glazing there is another type, which has a
number of examples here--a saint standing upon a bracket and displayed
against a quarry background, but lacking a canopy. These date from a
little later in the Perpendicular period. This bracket feature is very
English, and may also be seen at Nettlestead and West Wickham in Kent.
So pleased were the parishioners with these two types that, when some
new windows were presented in 1528-29-30 (now seen along the north
wall), the glazier did not work in the then prevailing Renaissance
method, but designed his story of St. Neot's life after the earlier
many-scened type, as well as copying some of them after that of the
bracketed saints. One of these sixteenth century windows was presented
by the young men of the parish, another by the young women, a third by
the married women, and the rest by private individuals or families.
Below the two given by the married and the unmarried women are a row of
kneeling donors which afford an interesting study of female costume. In
the south wall is a window given by the Mutton family. Here the glazier
did not copy earlier types, but struck out along a new line, making a
very graceful use of winding scrolls. Extremely pleasing as is the
effect of all these windows, the result would have been even more
gratifying had it not been for a restoration which befell the church in
1820, and which, when it subsided, left behind it not only three
unsatisfactory new windows, but also certain misguided retouchings of
the old ones. Even this gentle criticism must not be allowed to affect
the fact that the _ensemble_ of the interior here is delightful and one
of the most complete in England. Nor is this general effect one whit
less engaging than the host of quaint details revealed by a close
investigation of the glass, especially in the case of the Noah window
(most easterly of the south wall), and that devoted to St. Neot (most
westerly of the north wall). The mediaeval idea of Noah's Ark is very
diverting, as is also the artist's idea of how most of his wild animals
must have looked. Then, too, the attention paid by good St. Neot to the
sacred fish which his over-zealous servant had wickedly roasted and
broiled is most entertaining. For beauty, and for interest as well,
this noteworthy set of windows in far-off Cornwall amply repay the
length of the trip necessary to seek them out.