CHAPTER I

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NOOKS & CORNERS

OF CORNWALL

_IN THE SAME SERIES_

NOOKS & CORNERS OF YORKSHIRE

BY J. S. FLETCHER

_IN PREPARATION_

NOOKS & CORNERS OF DEVON

BY C. A. DAWSON SCOTT

NOOKS AND CORNERS OF HAMPSHIRE AND SUSSEX

BY DOUGLAS GOLDRING

Price 2s. 6d. net each (with map)

NOOKS & CORNERS

OF CORNWALL

By C. A. DAWSON SCOTT

WITH A MAP

[Illustration]

LONDON: EVELEIGH NASH

FOREWORD

At first sight it seems incongruous to speak of the Nooks and Corners to

be found in so rugged a land as Cornwall. The masses of rock at

Tintagel, Tol-Pedn, and the Lizard, the sheer drop of the High Cliff and

the Dodman, the moors, the cromlechs, and the granite tors, are so

impressive that we are apt to overlook the fertile valleys that

intersect the country, the coves, coombes, and "pills" in which the

hillside vegetation is often semi-tropical, and where the houses are

embowered in flowering shrubs till they look like Jacks-in-the-Green

that have taken root.

Nor do these picturesque villages, sheltered and fruitful, this

magnificent coast scenery, these grey moors, comprise the whole of this

half-smiling, half-frowning land. Here in out-of-the-way places are

relics of forgotten creeds and peoples, earthworks, amphitheatres,

castles, the caves of smugglers, and the subterranean hiding-places of

neolithic man. There is so much to interest, so much to see--almost too

much it would seem, certainly too much for any one holiday; but Cornwall

is a place to go to again and again, to go to till it seems as your own

land, and its people have forgiven you for being a "foreigner."

This Cornish folk, clannish but kindly, has of late years been

decreasing. Not only is there the competition of foreign tin, but the

lodes being now deep the cost of home production has proportionately

increased. "Cousin Jack" therefore has to go in search of more

remunerative metal, leaving "Cousin Jenny" at home to manage as best

she can on his remittances.

WARNINGS

"You can only see Cornwall by walking through it," said George Borrow,

but the traveller must bear in mind that a name, large on the map, is

apt to materialise into a few cottages, a lonely farmhouse, or a rocky

gorge with never an inhabitant. Nor though the voice of the tourist has

now for several years been heard in the land has the response, in

hotels, been great; while there are not as many country inns as might be

expected. The cheerful, pleasure-loving Cornishman has another aspect to

his character. Generally a Nonconformist and a Sabbatarian he--perhaps

more particularly she--thinks the fewer inns the better. Hamlets the

size of which would lead one to expect a wayside tavern are often drawn

blank, and it is as well to make inquiry, when mapping out the day's

journey, as to the accommodation to be found at its latter end.

It cannot be too firmly impressed upon the traveller that along the

northern and western shores both boating and bathing are unsafe. It is a

dangerous coast. Fortunately very few boats are kept, and these are

seldom let out to strangers; but in the matter of bathing the tourist

depends upon his own wisdom, and not only is there a bad undertow but

the big rollers from the Atlantic come in when least expected.

Moreover he must, when following these cliff paths, be on the look-out

for blow-holes. These sinister cavities result from the action of the

sea at the cliff base and of the fresh water springs above. A depression

is gradually formed, the surface sinks to be washed out by the tides,

till at last a round hole has been formed. This is the blow-hole. In

course of time the whole of the side towards the sea breaks away,

leaving a tiny bay, which gradually enlarges. The Cornish who do not

imagine that any one could be so foolish as to walk along this dangerous

coast after dark do not safeguard the blow-holes, and it is as well to

be on the look-out.

THE CROSSES

AND CHURCHES

A word with regard to the innumerable crosses and churches.

At an early date in the history of Christianity, saints from the

neighbouring countries of Brittany, Ireland and Wales appear to have

poured into Cornwall. Some floated over on their altar-stones--a

poetical way of saying they brought the said stones with them--others on

a miraculous leaf, _i.e._, a coracle, while yet others appear to have

walked! On arrival they found a large number of upright slabs and

boulders, relics of an earlier creed and vanished race. With the

sensible early-Christian habit of turning everything to account they

soon invented a history and found a use for the stones.

On a lonely moorland these big menhirs made excellent way-marks; by

some--possibly blocks that tradition accounted holy--the saints built

their oratories, others they carved into rude crosses, and others they

used as a centre about which to gather the countrypeople for service. As

the local preaching-place, these last stones, like the oratories

themselves, thus became the forerunners of the parish churches.

One reason for the multiplicity of these crosses--and unless those at

any place should be exceptional, they will not be mentioned--may be

found in the will of a certain Dr. Mertherderwa who, dying in 1447,

directed that "new stone crosses are to be put up of the usual kind in

those parts of Cornwall from Kayar Beslasek to Camborne Church, where

dead bodies are rested on their way to burial, that prayers may be made

and the bearers take some rest."

There are six different kinds of crosses. Upright slabs with a Latin

cross front and back; Round-headed crosses; Holed crosses, of which only

twenty-seven instances are known; Latin crosses, Gothic crosses and

ornamented crosses.

THE CHURCHES

When Cornwall built her innumerable small but beautiful churches, that

is to say from the thirteenth (and earlier) to the sixteenth century,

she showed that an ornate and vivid ritual was to her taste. She

objected to and resisted the Reformation, and on its becoming an

established fact went peacefully to sleep, as far as religion was

concerned, until the arrival of John Wesley. As a consequence very few

of the churches are modern, and most of them have Norman remains--some

antiquarians even say Saxon--and a good deal of old carved oak in

benches, screens, and roofs. Some of this carving is of considerable

merit, and the same may be said, though more doubtfully, of the numerous

frescoes; but unless the mural paintings and bench ends are in some way

remarkable they will not be insisted on, nor will the Norman and other

survivals in the architecture be discussed.

THE PLAN OF

THE BOOK

The roads from Launceston and from Saltash to the Land's End--and the

main roads of Cornwall are excellent, as good as any in England--go as

far as possible by way of the towns. The rivers, too, are no great

matter, in fact precisians have maintained that there are none. The

Tamar, which best deserves the name, was fixed as the eastern boundary

by Athelstane in 926, while the Fal and Helford Rivers are mainly sea

creeks, and the Camel and Fowey which until they become estuaries are

never wider than a man, provided with a pole, can leap, are really only

brooks of a fine and Tennysonian quality.

Undoubtedly then the way to see Cornwall is to follow the country roads

that lead along the shore, beginning at the north where the coach

crosses the border on its way from Clovelly Dykes to Bude, and ending at

the Tamar. There would then remain only the reaches of that lovely

river, the moorland, and what nooks and corners are to be found off the

highways that run through the middle of the county.

* * * * *

My most sincere acknowledgments are due to Mr. Thurstan Peter, author of

"The History of Cornwall," for his generous help while these pages were

passing through the press.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

NOOKS AND CORNERS OF THE EXTREME NORTH

The Boundary between Devon and Cornwall on the north:

Kilkhampton and its Association with the Grenvilles:

Morwenstow and the Rev. R. Hawker: Tonacombe and Kingsley:

Stowe: the Battles of Stamford Hill and Lansdowne: Tennyson

and Bude: the Neighbouring Churches: a Female Dick

Whittington Pp. 21-29

CHAPTER II

NOOKS AND CORNERS FROM WIDEMOUTH BAY TO ST. TEATH

The Great Cliffs: Boscastle and an Ancient Form of Tenure:

Otterham and Warbstow Barrows: Trevalga and Bossiney: the

Legend of St. Nechtan's Kieve: Tintagel: Arthur: The Castle:

The Beach and Barras Head: The Roman Occupation: Quarries:

Camelford and its Battle: Arthur's Hall: Lanteglos:

Henlistone and the Brewers: The Camel: The Delabole Slate:

St. Teath Pp. 33-44

CHAPTER III

NOOKS AND CORNERS FROM PORT ISAAC TO THE VALE OF LANHERNE

Port Isaac and the Fishing: Pentire: St. Enodoc and the Sand:

Lovebond's Bridge: Wadebridge and Egloshayle: _Jan

Tergeagle_: Menhirs: Padstow and the Hobby Horse: Prehistoric

Inhabitants: Harlyn Bay: Trevose Head: Constantine: A Fogou:

Bedruthan: The Vale of Lanherne Pp. 47-64

CHAPTER IV

NOOKS AND CORNERS FROM THE VALE OF LANHERNE TO HAYLE TOWANS

Hurling and St. Columb Major: Colan: The Gratitude of the

Stuarts: Trevalgue: A Good Centre for Crantock, St. Cubert,

and Trerice: St. Agnes and the Giant: Portreath: the Bassets:

Godrevy: Gwithian: The Pilchards Pp. 67-80

CHAPTER V

NOOKS AND CORNERS FROM LELANT TO PENZANCE

Gold in Cornwall: Knill's Monument: The Antiquities of the

Extreme West: Cliff Castles: Fogous: Menhirs: Dolmens:

Oratories: Superstitions: St. Ives: Wesley: Irving: A Ripe

Old Age: The Mines: Sancreed and St. Buryan: Lighthouses:

Whitesand Bay: The Land's End: Mousehole and Dolly Pentreath:

Newlyn: Penzance Pp. 83-98

CHAPTER VI

NOOKS AND CORNERS FROM THE SCILLY ISLES TO ROSELAND

The Land of Lyonesse: The Scillies: The Law of Wrecks: Mr.

Smith: The Admiral's Honour: Ding Dong Mine: St. Michael's

Mount: An Old Ceremony: China Clay: Wrecks: Germoe and

Breage: Pengersick: Flora Day: The Loe Pool: Serpentine:

Gunwalloe and Mullion: The Lizard: Bells: The Helford River:

Mawgan: Roseland Pp. 101-118

CHAPTER VII

NOOKS AND CORNERS FROM FALMOUTH TO TRURO

The Rise of Pendennis Castle: Sir John Arundel: The

Killigrews: Sir Walter Raleigh: The General Post Office and

Falmouth: Penryn: The Fal: The Stannary Courts: Old Truro:

Foote and Lowry Pp. 121-129

CHAPTER VIII

NOOKS AND CORNERS FROM ST. MAWES TO LISKEARD

St. Mawes and Gerrans: Tregony and Probus: Cornish Mutton: A

Story of Cornish Vengeance: Mevagissey: Antiquarian Finds:

The Capital of Clayland: Cock's and Hen's Barrow: Carglaze

Mine: Luxulyan: The Civil Wars: Lostwithiel: Lanhydrock

House and Restormel Castle: The Fight on St. Winnow's Downs:

The Gallants of Fowey: Place: Lanteglos: Polperro: Stories of

Talland, Killigarth, and Trelawne: The Giant's Hedge:

Boconnoc: Liskeard Pp. 133-153

CHAPTER IX

NOOKS AND CORNERS FROM LISKEARD TO LAUNCESTON

King Dungarth and King Alfred: Menheniot: St. Keyne: Looe: A

Cage for Scolds: Looe Island and the Smugglers: The Armada:

Sheviock: The Eddystone: Mount Edgcumbe: The Tamar: Trematon

Castle: Markets: Saltash: Moditonham: Paleologus: Pentillie:

Cotehele: Hingston Down: Polyfant: Launceston Pp. 157-172

CHAPTER X

NOOKS AND CORNERS FROM LAUNCESTON TO DOZMARE

The Upper Reaches of the Tamar: Launceston: The Old Highways:

St. Clether: Altarnon: Trebartha: The Trethevy Dolmen: The

Cheesewring: St. Cleer: St. Neot: Dozmare: Tregeagle: Lake

Dwellings Pp. 175-186

CHAPTER XI

NOOKS AND CORNERS FROM BROWN WILLY TO CAMBORNE

Brown Willy and Row Tor: Michaelstow, St. Tudy and St. Mabyn:

St. Breward and Blisland: Holland: Bodmin: Lanivet: Mitchell;

Cornish Names: Blackwater and Illogan: Redruth and St. Day:

Carn Brea: Camborne: A Word in Farewell Pp. 189-198

HOTELS ACCORDING TO THE ROUTE

Stratton. The Tree Inn.

Bude. The Falcon; Grenville.

Boscastle. Wellington.

Tintagel. Wharncliffe; King Arthur's Castle; Clifton House.

Camelford. King's Arms.

Wadebridge. Molesworth Arms.

Padstow. South-Western; St. Petrock's.

Newquay. Atlantic; Victoria; Headland; Great Western.

Perranporth. Perranporth; Tywarnhale.

Portreath. Portreath Hotel; by Gurnard's Head, the Treryn Hotel.

St. Ives. Tregenna Castle; Western; Queen's.

Lelant. Lelant Hotel.

Land's End. First and Last.

Penzance. Queen's; Riviera Palace; Mount's Bay; Western; Railway.

Scilly. Holgate's; Tregarthen's (both on St. Mary).

Helston. Angel.

Lizard. Housel Bay; Hill's; Caerthillian.

Coverack. The Coverack Headland Hotel; St. Keverne; St. Keverne Inn.

Falmouth. Falmouth; Green Bank; King's; Royal Albion.

Truro. Red Lion; Royal; Union.

St. Austell. Luke's White Hart; Queen's Head.

Fowey. Fowey.

Looe. Commonwood; Looe; Headland House.

Saltash. Bray's; Railway; Green Dragon.

Launceston. White Hart; King's Arms.

Moors. The Jamaica Inn.

Bodmin. Royal; Town Arms.

Redruth. Tabb's.

Camborne. Commercial; Tyack's.

CHAPTER I

NOOKS AND CORNERS OF THE EXTREME NORTH

_The Boundary between Devon and Cornwall on the north: Kilkhampton and

its Association with the Grenvilles: Morwenstow and the Rev. R. Hawker:

Tonacombe and Kingsley: Stowe: the Battles of Stamford Hill and

Lansdowne: Tennyson and Bude: the Neighbouring Churches: a Female Dick

Whittington._

KILKHAMPTON

The coach-road from Clovelly Dykes to Bude crosses Woolley Downs, but

the border on the north is the little stream that runs into Marsland

Mouth. The cliff paths with their fine views and the wonderful colour of

sea and sky--such colour as elsewhere only the Mediterranean gives

us--are the more interesting of the offered ways. Inland lies

Kilkhampton, by the Tamar, with its church of St. James, the south

doorway of which is one of the richest specimens of late Norman work in

the duchy. But, more interesting than the finely carved choir stalls,

numerous good bench-ends and doorway, is its connection with the family

of Grenville, who, descendants of the Norman dukes, lived in the parish

for six hundred years, and built the church. "Never a Grenville lacked

loyalty" was the saying, and the sons of the old house at Stowe proved

it by confiscated property and lives laid down. From Stowe came old Sir

Richard who, with his little "Revenge," fought the fifty-three galleons

of Spain.

"_God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before?_"

From there came his grandson, gentle, gallant Sir Beville, who after his

last stand against the Parliamentarians on Lansdowne, was brought back

to lie in the old church of Kilkhampton; and from there, ruined and

exiled for the sake of the last worthless Stuart, went out Sir Beville's

younger son.

By Sir Beville lies his wife, the Lady Grace, for whom the epitaph to be

seen in Minster Church might have been written:

"_He first departing, she a little tried

To live without him, could not and so died._"

The Earls of Bath, descendants of the Grenvilles, are buried in a vault

below the south aisle, but two hundred and fifty years have passed and

the name--it is a Marquisate now--is Thynne (of the Inn), nor is the

head of the family a Beville. The servant who brought back his master's

body sleeps at Stratton. A huge man this Anthony Payne, seven foot two

in his stockings! When he lay dead in the Tree Inn so large a coffin was

required that it could not be got into the house. He and Sir Beville may

be dead and buried, but their lives have been woven into the talk of the

countryside, and the traveller has only to ask a discreet question or so

and he will hear of the great deeds of old.

MORWENSTOW

The main interest of this part of the country--the extreme north--is

centred in the tiny hamlet of Morwenstow with its thatched inn and its

association with the Rev. Robert Hawker. He was no stranger when he

came, for his father had been vicar of Stratton and lay buried there.

For long the son, fearing the sadness of old associations, refused to

preach in the sister parish, and when at last his reluctance was

overcome and he stood in his father's pulpit it was only to hesitate and

break down. He explained with faltering voice, "I stand amid the dust of

those near and dear to me."

Morwenstow is reached from Marsland Mouth by the Henna Cliff (The

Raven's Crag--and Welsh legend hath it that King Arthur was changed into

one of these birds, though the Cornish say, a chough), from which is

obtained a magnificent view of that wild coast, Dizzard, Cambeak,

Tintagel, and Pentire, rising one beyond the other in shades of blue

deepening to purple. The Norman doorway of the church, which like that

of Marhamchurch is dedicated to St. Morwenna, is crowned with zigzag

and chevron mouldings which are surmounted by a range of grotesque

sea-faces--mermaid, dolphin, whale, and so forth. Mr. Hawker tells how

the old piscina was found and reinstated. "The chancel wall one day

sounded hollow when struck; the mortar was removed, and underneath there

appeared an arched aperture which had been filled up with jumbled carved

work and a crushed drain. It was cleared out and so rebuilt as to occupy

the exact site of its former existence. It is of the earliest type of

Saxon architecture, and for all we know may be the oldest piscina in the

land."

The church roof is of wood, and shingles of rended oak occupy the place

of the usual tiles. "Outside the screen and at the top of the nave is

the grave of a priest. It is identified by the reversed position of the

carved cross on the stone, which also indicates the self-same attitude

in the corpse. The head is laid down toward the east while, in all

secular interments, the head is turned towards the west."

On the south side of the churchyard--as in so many along this ruthless

coast--are the graves of wrecked sailors; and Hawker, a great-hearted

man and to some extent a poet, was foremost in rendering the last kind

offices to the dead. Over forty men, the crews of three lost vessels,

lie here, while the figurehead by one lot of graves is that of the brig

_Caledonia_ from Arbroath in Scotland. No wonder ships give these

stupendous cliffs as wide a berth as possible. An occasional steamer is

sighted, some tramp in search of cargo goes hurrying by, but, as a rule,

the wide expanse is empty of surface life, a fact which is both

noticeable and suggestive.

On a spot where he had seen the lambs sheltering from wind and weather,

Mr. Hawker built the vicarage. With one of his personality as architect,

it was impossible it should quite resemble any other manse; therefore it

is not surprising to find that in the chimney-stacks he has reproduced

the forms of certain church towers that he admired, while inset over the

doorway is the distich:

"_A house, a glebe, a pound a day,

A pleasant place to watch and pray,

Be true to Church, be kind to poor,

O Minister for evermore!_"

TONACOMBE

AND STOWE

Not far from Morwenstow lie--or rather did lie, for though Tonacombe

still preserves its original design, Stowe, near Coombe Valley, the home

of the Grenvilles, was unfortunately destroyed in 1715--two old

manor-houses. The former, which was built in the fifteenth century, has

a fine stone-floored hall with timbered roof, old open fireplace, and

minstrel's gallery. Some of the rooms, which have lattice windows, are

panelled, and Charles Kingsley stayed in this "in some respects the most

remarkable mediaeval house in the west of England," while he was writing

"Westward Ho."

Of far greater interest, however, is Stowe (Anglo-Saxon for a stockaded

place), at one time a magnificent building. Of it only the moat remains,

but when Sir Beville rose for Charles I., many a Cornishman, who in his

boyhood had stayed at Stowe, practising arms under the eye of Anthony

Payne, rose with him.

THE BATTLE OF

STAMFORD HILL

To Stratton, a little south of Stowe, came in 1643 the Parliamentarian

General, Lord Stamford. The cavaliers, not then very prosperous, but

gallant gentlemen all, were lying at Launceston, and the Roundhead made

the mistake of underestimating their strength. Sir Ralph Hopton and Sir

Beville Grenville marched the twenty miles from the capital town without

more food than a few biscuits. Intent on intercepting and driving out

the intruder, they found when they reached Stratton late in the evening

that he had entrenched himself strongly on a neighbouring hill. As he

had the advantage in numbers, having about twice as many men and must

know that they were tired, hungry, and in poor condition, the Royalists

stood to their arms through the short May night in momentary expectation

of an attack. Their leaders were at one of the Poughill cottages--they

bear date 1620 and are still to be seen--and Sir Beville, while he

waited anxiously, must have wondered how it had gone with wife and

children, over above in the moated and stockaded house of Stowe.

Lord Stamford, however, did not take advantage of his enemy's weariness.

No doubt he thought it would be more convenient, as the country was

unknown to him, to scatter the little force by daylight. At any rate he

sat still on the top of the hill and did nothing. In the grey dawn,

therefore, the Royalists, the fiercer for their hunger and

sleeplessness, decided not to wait any longer. Since he would not come

down they must go up. Dashingly they attacked his entrenchment, doggedly

they continued the fight. After nine hours of it, word was passed round

that their scanty store of ammunition had come to an end. But they were

nothing daunted. Grimly and in a strange silence they made the last

assault; and this time were successful, the leaders of the four narrow

columns meeting at the top of the hill. As they did so, Lord Stamford,

who had looked on from a safe distance, set spurs to his horse, and fled

headlong. Cornwall was won for King Charles, and from the battlefield

Francis Basset of Tehidy could write to his wife "Dearest soule, ring

out the bells, raise bonfires, publish these joyful tidings."

A year or two later, however, Stratton told a different tale. Cornwall

might in the main be Royalist, but all England was for a change in the

government; and presently Lord Essex, driving Sir Richard Grenville--a

brother of Sir Beville--before him, crossed the Tamar and stormed the

house at Stowe. It was the beginning of evil days. In 1646 Hopton, the

Royalist General, retired to Stratton with a broken, dispirited and,

alas! disorderly army, and from thence Sir Thomas Fairfax drove him back

across the pass at Wadebridge which Cromwell--it is the only mention of

him in Cornish annals--was sent to secure.

THE BATTLE OF

LANSDOWNE HILL

But by then Sir Beville was dead. After the--surely the name is

ironical--battle of Stamford Hill, he and his victorious troops had

marched to the King's aid. At the battle of Lansdowne, on the heights

above Bath, Sir Beville, sorely wounded, was struck out of his saddle by

a pole-axe. The pikemen he was leading fell into confusion, and in an

instant the Parliamentarians were among them, hewing them down. Then did

Anthony Payne, Sir Beville's giant retainer, come to the rescue.

Catching his master's riderless horse, he set on it young John, a

stripling of sixteen, Sir Beville's eldest son; and led him to the head

of the wavering pikemen. The appeal was irresistible. The Cornish

followed their beloved leader's son like men possessed; and so, while

Sir Beville lay dying on the hillside, his regiment, led by his faithful

servant and his young son, swept all before them.

One is glad to remember that at the Restoration when the family's

confiscated estates were restored to them, young John, in memory of his

own deeds and those of his greater father, was created Earl of Bath.

TENNYSON

AT BUDE

Bude with its wide sands and unsafe harbour is without historical

associations, but it can be used, having hotels, as a centre from which

to visit the more interesting towns (so-called, but they are no bigger

than an ordinary village) and hamlets of the neighbourhood. Tennyson,

when he had it in mind to write his Arthurian Idylls, came here--no

doubt for local colour, though being a Victorian what he said was, "That

he must go to Bude and be alone with God!" During his visit he rode out

to Morwenstow to call on Mr. Hawker, and the less-known bard has left an

interesting account of their interview.

"I found my guest ... a tall, swarthy, Spanish-looking man with an eye

like a sword. He sate down, and we conversed. I at once found myself

with no common mind.... Before he left the room, he said: 'Do you know

my name?'

"I said: 'No, I have not even a guess.'

"'Do you wish to know it?'

"'I don't much care--that which we call a rose, &c.'

"'Well, then,' said he, 'my name is _Tennyson_.'

"'What!' said I, '_the_ Tennyson?'

"'What do you mean by _the_ Tennyson? I am Alfred Tennyson, who wrote

"Locksley Hall," which you seem to know by heart.'

"So we grasped hands, and the Shepherd's heart was glad."

CHURCHES OF THE

NEIGHBOURHOOD

With regard to certain old churches, St. Olaf's, at Poughill, has two

rather crudely restored mural paintings and, set heavily in the south

door, what is reputed to be one of the few genuine sanctuary rings still

in existence. The church at Marhamchurch also shows the remains of

frescoes, while Stratton has a fine stoup, and in the north wall of the

chancel an Easter sepulchre, probably the only one in the county. That

of Swithin--dear apple saint--at Launcells, has a circular font reputed

to date from Saxon times, and the fifteenth century bench-ends, though

rudely carved, show a play of symbolic fancy, unusual in Cornwall. On

one you see the visit of Mary when she mistook the gardener for Christ,

Mary being represented by a spice-box, the gardener by a spade! On

another the Harrowing of Hell is represented by the jaws of a dragon,

and so with the various subjects. An empty grave and cross triumphant

tells the story of the resurrection, while the supper at Emmaus, though

faithfully suggested, is given without the introduction of a single

human figure. It is all symbolism--riddles which are interesting to

guess, but not always easy.

WEEK ST. MARY

Some five miles or so south of Marhamchurch lies Week St. Mary, about a

native of which village a sort of Dick Whittington story is told. In a

field adjoining the churchyard the remains of extensive buildings can be

traced, and these, once a chantry, were said to be due to the pious

energy of Dame Thomasin Perceval. As a girl she herded geese on the

common of Greenamore, until in the shape of a staid and, alas! already

married merchant, the Prince came riding by. He spoke to the girl and

found her as pleasant in discourse as to the eye. Without more ado,

therefore, he took her away with him--and here, though propriety is

preserved, the fairy-tale suddenly drops to unromantic fact--he took her

to wait upon his wife! In course of time, however, that good lady died

and the middle-aged Prince was free to marry his goose-girl.

After many years she returned as a rich widow to her native parish, and

there spent the remnant of her days in a cheerful and rather bustling

philanthropy, repairing anything in the way of churches, bridges, and

roads that required attention, portioning the virtuous and hard working

of her own sex and generally playing Lady Bountiful--or so it is said!

In the churchwardens' Accounts of Stratton under date 1513 we read:

"paid for my lady parcyvale ijs Meneday [_i.e._ day of prayer for her

soul] to iiij preistes & for bred & ale 1s. 1d."

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