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._
ST. MAWES
AND GERRANS
The "free and sworn burgesses" of St. Mawes, numbering about twenty,
formerly returned two members to Parliament; now it is a tiny sleepy
fishing port with many quiet places of retreat up the winding creeks,
the sort of place for a honeymoon couple, "the world forgetting by the
world forgot."
According to tradition Gerrans embodies the name of Gerennius, King of
Cornwall, of whom the Welsh Bards sang:
"_In Llongborth Geraint was slain,
A brave man from the region of Dyvnaint--_"
follows a grimly suggestive line:
"_And before they were overpowered they committed slaughter._"
Near Trewithian is an ancient earthwork called Dingerein, and believed
to be Geraint's dwelling-place, the "Dyvnaint" of the song. When he died
his body was carried in a golden boat with silver oars across the bay to
Pendower beach, and buried with the boat on the hill above, while over
it was raised the cairn known as Veryan Beacon. It was believed also
that some day he would rise up in his armour and sail away in that
glorious boat. This tradition has been found in several places. Men who
lived with a vital awe-inspiring king found it difficult to believe that
such a flame could be extinguished. He had vanished into the surrounding
darkness, but none the less, thought they, he must be somewhere,
somewhere whence he could, nay surely would, return. This belief would
probably be fostered by his successor. If he were a child or weakling,
the people would hesitate to be disloyal, for fear of what would befall
them when the mightier father returned.
The great tumulus at Carne was opened in 1855, and within was found a
kist-vaen of unhewn stones, covered with limestone boulders; but in the
kist were only ashes, pieces of charcoal, and burnt dust. Objects of
gold are rarely found in barrows; but in the neighbourhood of the
Cheesewring was a persistent story that at some former time a golden cup
was actually dug out of a barrow near by. In course of time the
tradition was found to be true, and the cup is now in the king's
collection.
TREGONY AND PROBUS
A little inland from these shores that reverberate with tales of long
ago is Tregony, once celebrated for its boys' school, to which the Truro
lads went daily in that great Cornish institution, a bus. It is a most
ancient place, supposed to have been a Roman station; and when Edward I.
gave Parliamentary representation to the country, Tregony was allowed to
send two members, and did so in 1294. Many years since, a large stone
coffin was dug up near the town, but the measurements given should be
received with caution.
Probus, about four miles north-west of Tregony, has a church of
exceptional beauty. The tower is of St. Stephen's stone and the highest
in Cornwall, being 123 ft. to the top of the pinnacles; it is of
elaborate and beautiful workmanship, while there is good
sixteenth-century carving in the church and an ancient stone altar
_mensa_. Not far from Probus is Wolveden, generally called Golden. Here
Francis Tregian sheltered his chaplain, Cuthbert Mayne, in 1577, the
cell in which he was concealed being still in good case, as well as a
fine Tudor doorway and chimney piece; but the old chapel, though still
standing, is part of the stables. The punishment for sheltering a
wandering Catholic priest was heavy. Mayne was discovered and hanged at
Launceston, and Tregian was thrown into prison, where he languished for
eight and twenty years. And all this miserable waste of life because
Henry VIII. chose to think differently to his ancestors on "matters
appertaining to religion."
CORNISH MUTTON
These Roseland parishes, with their undulating heaths and sweet short
turf, are famous for their mutton. The meat generally in Cornwall, after
the uncertainty over chilled beef and New Zealand lamb in other parts of
the country, is an agreeable change. Nor is it dear. For visitors the
prices of food have gradually risen, but not very long ago butter was a
shilling a pound, mackerel a penny each, milk twopence a quart, and
little fat pilchards six--seven--eight a penny!
A STORY OF
CORNISH VENGEANCE
Not far from each other stand the remains of two great manor houses,
Caerhayes Castle, demolished in 1808 and rebuilt, and Bodrugan, now a
farm, but once, after Stowe the finest house in the county. The lords of
these manors took different sides during the disturbances consequent on
the Wars of the Roses and, in the end, Henry de Bodrugan was charged by
his neighbours--and among them John Arundell of Tolverne--with having
robbed their houses and also with various acts of piracy on the high
seas. He, however, was hand and glove with Richard Crookback, who, if an
awkward enemy, could be a good friend, and Bodrugan's conviction,
obtained in his absence, was subsequently quashed. For the time being he
escaped the consequence of his misdeeds, but in his triumph he did not
forget to whom he owed his tribulation, and before long saw good reason
to accuse Sir Richard Edgcumbe of Cotehele, on the Tamar, and his
neighbour, Sir Hugh Trevanion of Caerhayes, of plotting to bring about
the accession of Henry VII. A word to Richard, and that monarch, who
lost no time in such matters, sent soldiers post haste to arrest
Edgcumbe. So unexpectedly did they arrive at Cotehele that their prey
had to spring out of the nearest window and make for the woods. When he
reached the river they were hard on his heels. But he was a man of
resource. Snatching off his cap he tossed it into the water, and when
the soldiers arrived they saw it floating slowly down the current and
came to the conclusion that he was drowned. Trevanion and Edgcumbe
hurried off to Henry of Richmond, and no doubt were with him when he
landed at Rame Head, a little further east. They distinguished
themselves at Bosworth Field, and in the church of St. Michael,
Caerhayes, hangs the sword worn that day by Sir Hugh, the sword with
which he was made a knight-banneret by the new king.
But Edgcumbe and Trevanion had a private account to settle and, asking
leave of absence, they rode west. Sir Henry de Bodrugan, however, was
before them. His cause was lost, his master dead, and he knew that there
was little mercy to be hoped for from either Edgcumbe or Trevanion. The
enemies met on Woful Moor. Bodrugan gave back and back, till at last
only the sea lay behind him. Then he turned and leapt--the rock is still
shown--and being a strong swimmer was presently picked up by a passing
vessel. His lands, with the goodwill of the King, were divided between
his vengeful enemies, and the manor itself has been handed down from
Edgcumbe to Edgcumbe in uninterrupted succession to this day.
CAERHAYES, GORAN
AND THE DODMAN
It was at Caerhayes that Sir John Berkeley and Colonel Slingsby, who had
been sent into Cornwall, during the autumn of 1649, to encourage their
friends to rise for Charles II., were surprised by the watchful
Roundheads. Lord Byron's grandmother was a Trevanion of Caerhayes, but
the castle no longer shelters the descendants of the man who laid its
foundation-stone, and if you would see relics of the wild Trevanions you
must seek them in the arcade--where hang helmets, swords, and
gauntlets--of the little church of St. Michael.
At Goran Church were once monuments to all three families, but those of
the Trevanions have disappeared, while the Bodrugans are now only
represented by the arms cut on the granite font. This church has a high
embattled tower, a good day-mark for ships, and in the chancel a curious
oak chair elaborately carved with the figure of a woman.
South of Goran is the Dodman, the pride of the southern coast, a
headland which is 400 ft. high and about whose feet the water is so deep
that vessels of large draught may sail by within a few feet. It is of
dark weathered rocks with a ditch and rampart winch, crossing from one
side to the other, cuts it off from the land. The finest beaches on the
south stretch right and left from this headland, which gives a good view
of the cliffs and fishing coves all up and down the coast from the Rame
to the Lizard.
It is curious how frequently two or more places in Cornwall bear the
same name. There are two St. Justs, two St. Anthonys, two Mawgans,
Constantines, Pentires, while as to Pennare there are several. A Black
Head (250 ft.) was the most important promontory between the Lizard and
Falmouth, and here, after Chapel Point with its prehistoric remains,
Mevagissey with its sardine factory--(All-British shoppers, please
note)--and Pentewan with its quarries, the next blue point breaking the
northward line is another--and a most bold and precipitous--Black Head!
MEVAGISSEY
Near Mevagissey, locally and opprobriously termed Fishygissey, is
Pencarne, seat of the one-handed Carew, whose portrait is in Heligan
House. He lost his hand by a cannon-shot at the siege of Ostend (1601)
and, returning to his quarters after the fight, held out the lopped
member with a casual: "There is the hand that cut the pudding this
morning!"
ANTIQUARIAN FINDS
In this neighbourhood several interesting finds have been made. At
Pentewan some curious oaken canoes buried in the soil were found by the
tinners. Unaware of the unique nature of what they had discovered, the
miners broke them up for firewood! Better luck, however, attended a
remarkable and interesting find at Trewhiddle. Some miners, when
searching for tin in a stream work, at 17 ft. below the surface, came on
a silver cup which proved to be a chalice containing coins and some
ornaments. These coins bore date from 757 to 874, and the names of such
well-known Kings as Egbert and Alfred, with a unique silver penny of
Eanred of Northumbria and a Louis le Debonnaire (King of the Franks
814). It is supposed that the hoard was buried when sea-robbers were
harrying the coast, and that he who hid it did not live to come back. It
is now in the British Museum.
THE CAPITAL OF
CLAYLAND
Roseland has given place to Clayland, with St. Austell for the capital.
This town is not far from the sea. Its narrow crooked thoroughfares
radiate in all directions from the old church, over the porch of which
is a Cornish inscription, "Ry Du," the meaning of which is unknown. The
well-known tower is sculptured and of Pentewan stone. Within is good
woodwork, a weirdly carved font, and a series of shields which, if not
beautiful as art, are interesting for their symbolism. At St. Austell
was born Colenso, the fighting bishop, who having set Christendom by the
ears and been excommunicated for heresy was afterwards confirmed in the
possession of his see.
The town is of modern origin, owing its existence to the various mines
and clayworks in the neighbourhood. The clayman drives his team in
single file, and an endless procession of heavy waggons rumbles through
the narrow streets, waggons laden with powdered clay in barrels or with
the white glistening lumps uncovered. This clay is found in large
quantities at Hensbarrow, Burngullow (where the first sod of the
Cornwall Railway was cut in 1847), St. Stephen's, and the Bodmin Moors,
and is exported from Par, Fowey, and Charlestown. About 1763 Wedgwood
leased a mine near St. Austell, using the clay for the manufacture of
his well-known porcelain. About 60,000 tons of this material are
exported annually to the Potteries and into Lancashire.
The Menagew, a famous old stone said to have been a boundary at the
junction of three manors, has been removed from its ancient site--the
pity o't!--and fixed in the pavement at the corner of Menacuddle Street,
the spot being marked by a brass plate. Lake says: "On this stone all
declarations of war and proclamations of peace were read ... all cattle
for whom no owner could be found were brought here and exposed for a
certain number of market days, after which, if unclaimed, their sale
became legal," and there is a hint that in yet earlier days the criminal
was brought to this stone for execution and that by the shedding of
blood it became set apart and sacred.
COCK'S AND
HEN'S BARROW
To the north of St. Austell, and on the highest land in the
neighbourhood is the "Hen's Barrow." The latter, which is 1034 ft. above
the sea level, is also known as the Archbeacon of Cornwall. From here
the whole county can be seen stretched out below, and here are the chief
china pits. On its northern slope is a vast mass of schorl, the
celebrated Roche Rock. On its summit are the fourteenth-century ruins of
a chapel to St. Michael, locally said to have been built by the last
male heir of Tregarrick manor, who, weary of the world, lived here in
solitude. A little north of Roche and beyond the old half-forgotten holy
well is a pool, the water of which may easily be made to flow in
different directions--either to Par, Falmouth, or Padstow!
CARGLAZE MINE
West of Roche is St. Dennis, the church of which stands on a conical
hill of granite in the middle of a prehistoric entrenchment. In the
churchyard is a fine cross and round it earthworks and tumuli. A great
part of the surface in this neighbourhood has been opened for china clay
and china stone, but by far the most important mine is that of Carglaze,
once worked for tin. The pit of this mine presents a remarkable
appearance, for though nearly a mile in circumference it is only 150
ft. deep. It resembles indeed nothing as much as a gigantic crater!
LUXULYAN
South of St. Austell and near Porthpean is a granite longstone known as
Tregeagle's Stick, another instance of some older story being attached
to a recent hero, for the pillar must have been there many hundreds of
years before Tregeagle was born. On Gwallen Downs are several
earthworks, cairns, holy wells, &c., while Menacuddle boasts a very
pretty cascade. This cannot be compared with the one at Luxulyan, which
has a fall of 200 ft. That "valley of rocks," a beautiful, picturesque
spot, is crossed by the Treffry aqueduct, and lies in a parish of wild
land strewn with blocks of granite and porphyry. One of the latter was
worked into a sarcophagus for the celebrated Duke of Wellington, while
the Giant Block of Luxulyanite is said to be the largest in Europe.
ST. BLAZEY
If St. Austell is the capital of clayland, St. Blazey is second to it as
a trading-centre for granite and china clay. Its saint was said to be
the patron of woolcombers, though this is probably a mere modern
confusion of names. Here was born Ralph Allen, who invented cross
country posts and, while obliging his fatherland, managed to enrich
himself. Pope, who stayed with him at Prior Park (Bath), describes him
somewhat contemptuously:
"_Let humble Allen with an awkward shame
Do good by stealth and blush to find it fame._"
'Tis true that Allen was the son of a St. Blazey innkeeper, that he had
made instead of inheriting his money, but to go down to posterity as
"humble" and "awkward!" The first edition is "low-born Allen," but this
was altered at the poor man's protest.
THE CIVIL WARS
It is pleasant to leave the china clay with its milky fouling of clear
waters and its diseased outcrops, white with the white of leprosy.
Crossing Par sands, where Essex watched in vain for the ships laden with
his supplies and where, of the old lead smelting works even the chimney
known all over the countryside as Par Stack is now gone, the road turns
down the coast--past Menabilly with its geological grotto and museum,
past Gribben Head set with a day-mark tower some 80 ft. high--and so
round the little peninsula into which the Parliamentarian Army was
penned by the more active Royalists in 1644, and up to Fowey.
When Charles I. in the August of that year pursued the foolish and
shortsighted Essex into Cornwall, the King began by calling together his
soldiers and enumerating the services rendered to his cause by the
people of the duchy, and he strictly and with divers threats forbade
plundering. That for once he meant what he said, was proved a fortnight
later by Prince Maurice, who hanged a soldier for plundering Lanhydrock;
and that there might be no misunderstanding about the matter, left him
with a ticket to that effect pinned on his breast.
Essex, a stupid and inactive man, had come into Cornwall against his
better judgment, Lord Robartes having said that the country would rise
to join him. Before he got as far as Bodmin he discovered that the
contrary was like to be the case; and when the King came sweeping into
the duchy and Sir Richard Grenville marched out of Truro, Essex, who was
between them, saw the hopelessness of his position. In the midst of a
country so hostile that his soldiery had to forage far and wide for
grudged provisions, he had nothing upon which to fall back, for some
ships loaded with cheese and biscuit which he was daily expecting had
not arrived. Essex, who always did the wrong thing or else the right
thing too late, cast about at this eleventh hour to keep a passage open
for his supplies and, anxious to get nearer the sea, made for
Lostwithiel. The immediate result of this movement was that the forces
of Grenville and the King presently formed a semicircle about him from
shore to shore, and matters went from bad to worse. His soldiers, in
need of food and tempted by papers offering a free pardon which the
Royalists scattered among them, were daily slipping away to join the
King. Having left the eastern side of the harbour unguarded, the forts
there, as well as Polruan and Hall House, were soon taken; and this gave
Charles the command of the estuary, while on the other side Grenville
had secured the little haven of Par, where Essex was hoping his delayed
stores would be landed. At this juncture he made a belated effort to
help himself and those dependent on him. On the evening of August 31
deserters reported that the Parliamentarian cavalry was drawn up on the
east bank of the river. It was evident that Essex was contemplating a
move, and orders were issued to the Royalists to stand at arms
throughout the night, break down all bridges, and throw baulks of timber
across the roads and lanes. Furthermore Goring was bidden collect his
cavalry and be in readiness to act on any point at which the enemy might
attempt to break through.
Unfortunately, when the King's orders reached Goring he was in no
condition to obey them. The night came on dark and foggy. There was a
narrow space on St. Winnow's Downs between the two Royalist divisions;
but though not covered with troops it was guarded by some fifty
fusiliers. These men were--what shall we say? They could scarcely on
such a raw night have been asleep and why should they have been absent?
At any rate it was over this space that, moving with silent celerity,
Sir Wm. Balfour with the whole of the Parliamentarian horse passed
unchallenged out on to the open ground. Until a second message from the
King reached Goring, he could not be got from his wine. The enemy was
then actually passing over the hill, and had it not been for this
scandalous behaviour probably not a man would have escaped.
Some days earlier poor old Restormel Castle had been stormed by
Grenville, and his forces under cover of a mist had then moved down
towards Lostwithiel, but it was reserved for the King to take that
ancient town; which he did just in time to prevent the destruction by
the retreating Essex of the beautiful bridge.
Although the Parliamentarian General was forced to retire, he did so
doggedly, contesting every street and every field, and that night the
King slept in the rain under a hedge by the prehistoric earthwork of
Castle Dor.
LOSTWITHIEL
On the following morning Essex proposed a parley. Before the King's
answer could reach him, however, he had, with a sudden change of front,
embarked on one of the ships in Fowey harbour and set sail for Plymouth.
Major-General Skippon, who had been left in command, immediately
capitulated with six thousand men; and then for once in its long and
sleepy existence was Lostwithiel aroused. The Parliamentarians had
desecrated the beautiful church; the slates of the roof were lying in
heaps where a barrel of gunpowder had been touched off under the
graceful octagonal lanthorn of its spire--"the Glory of Cornwall." They
had plundered the Exchequer Hall, burnt the stannary records, and
committed other enormities; but now the yoke of the oppressor was
broken. Tho King did his humane best to protect the soldiers, but the
long-suppressed hostility of the mob found vent in a sudden flame of
violence, while the women set upon the officers, stripped them of all
they had and rode off with their horses!
LANHYDROCK HOUSE AND
RESTORMEL CASTLE
Lanhydrock House being now the property of the King, he, as a mark of
his gratitude, granted it to Sir Richard Grenville, whom he created
Baron of Lostwithiel; but no sooner did the Parliament get the upper
hand than the new-made baron was deprived of his property. The present
house is of granite and stands low, the hills springing from the end of
the gardens. On them is a little church, and in front an open and
undulating park. The headquarters of Essex were in this park, through
which a long avenue of sycamores leads to a barbican of fine
workmanship, behind which appears the simple facade of the two-storied
house. Within, a room is shown as that used by Tregeagle when steward of
the estates.
A little south is Restormel Castle. Its long life has been that of a
ruin slowly sinking into the earth from which it rose. In 1245 Earl
Richard found it much decayed. He restored it; and the Black Prince, who
twice stayed there, did the same. When the Parliamentarians came it had
long been abandoned to the owls and the ivy, but as it commanded the
Fowey they repaired and garrisoned it. After the surrender of their army
it was once more abandoned, and now all that remains of the old
fortress is the round keep with a gate-house on the west and a
projecting turret on the north-east. It is on a mound surrounded by a
moat and lies deep in woods and remote from human habitation. Its very
name, Restormel (once Lestormel, a chief's dwelling), shows that its
builder was a man of note among the people who are gone. It has seen
them make merry in its halls, it has seen them pass. It has roused up
now and again to groan under the tyranny of new masters; but now,
deserted in its robe of ivy, a mound, and a few stones, it sleeps
through the sunshine and the rain, and with every year sinks a little
and a little into itself and the kind covering earth.
"_The old sea here at my door,
The old hills there in the West--
What can a man want more
Till he goes at last to his rest?_"
LOWRY.
Nor is Lostwithiel much more widely awake. Nowadays it consists of a few
rather picturesque streets, an old stone bridge, and a church with a
lanthorn spire--the finest piece of church architecture in Cornwall! But
it has not forgotten the days when a desperate king, gladdened by a
brief gleam of success, fought his way through those same picturesque
streets with an enemy that contested every stone and every house. It has
not forgotten that he fought from early morning, pushing the stubborn
foe before him, until by eventide he had the streets clear, and
Lostwithiel, happy loyal Lostwithiel was his.
THE FIGHT ON
ST. WINNOW'S DOWNS
Before this came to pass, however, a curious conflict had taken place on
St. Winnow's Downs. One hundred Roundheads, youths from sixteen to
twenty years of age and led by Colonel Straughan, had challenged a like
number of the King's troops to heroic combat on Druid's Hill. On a set
day the two bodies of horse met in sight of both armies, Straughan
having "nothing on his head but a hat and on the trunk of his body
naught but a white shirt"--he was indeed fighting bare-sark--"while his
troop consisted of men so young that on their chins never a razor had
passed." Lord Digby, the Royalist leader, and his followers advanced
firing their pistols as they came, whereupon Straughan and his boys
charged furiously, withholding their fire until they were so close that
at the deadly discharge half the Royalists were slain on the spot and
there was scarce horse or man but received some hurt.
The Church of St. Winnow is beautifully placed on the very margin of
this charming estuary, a little before the Lerryn creek opens to the
east. Below is the pass between St. Veep and Golant, a pass taken and
fortified by the Royalists.
THE GALLANTS
OF FOWEY
The Gallants of Fowey probably means the men of Golant, near Fowey,
though various other derivations have been suggested, as for instance
the fight between the seafaring men of Rye and Winchelsea and those of
Fowey. It appears the latter had sailed somewhat near the aforesaid
towns, and when summoned to make civil apology for the intrusion
"stiffly refused to vaile their bonnets. This caused the Ripiers to make
out with might and main against them; howbeit with a more hardy onset
than happy issue, for the Fowey men gave them so rough entertainment as
their welcome that they were glad to depart without bidding
farewell--the merit of which exploit afterwards entitled them 'gallants
of Fowey.'"
This little town, which consists of a single street along the western
bank of the estuary and many houses set down higgledy-piggledy wherever
room could be found, was once of some consequence. During the reign of
Edward III. it sent--assisted, no doubt, by the surrounding country--no
less than forty-seven ships manned by seven hundred and seventy men, to
the siege of Calais. No other town in England sent so many ships and no
town but Yarmouth so many men. The Black Prince, who it must be
remembered was the first Duke of Cornwall, granted the people of Golant
certain common rights in return for their services, and Fowey grew in
pride and consideration. In fact, as the saying is, it grew "too big for
its boots," and did more than a little privateering on its own account.
When Edward IV. made peace with France, Fowey, which had grown fat on
the plunder of foreign merchantmen, continued its hostilities; and in
time a pursuivant rode down from London to make inquiry.
"I am at peace with my brother of France," ran the royal message.
"But we are not," was the reply. Furthermore they took the pursuivant,
slit his ears and cut off his nose.
It was hardly the way to treat a King of so royal a temper as Edward
IV., and Fowey--is it Fowey now or Troy?--suffered. His commissioners
did their work treacherously, but they did it well. The chief men were
seized, their goods confiscated, and their leader hanged. The great
chain which barred the narrow entrance to their harbour and protected
them from night attacks was taken away, while the men of Dartmouth were
sent by sea to remove their ships. Edward meant to smoke out this nest
of freebooters. There could be only one king in England and he would
have them recognise it. The savage punishment resulted in the gradual
decay of the little cheerful town. Those who had been so greatly daring
were dead, and until Henry VIII. built batteries here the place lay at
the mercy of any passing marauder. A story interesting for the light it
sheds on Queen Elizabeth's character is told of some Spanish ships in
1568. Bound for Alba, in the Netherlands, with a large sum of money,
they were chased by privateers and took refuge in Fowey and other ports.
The privateers waiting outside till they should reappear, the Spaniards
were helpless. After a little hesitation Elizabeth had the treasure
seized and the crews arrested. She said that, fearing the audacity of
the pirates, she would keep the money safe!
PLACE
The old fortress mansion of the great family of Treffry is on the
opposite side of the harbour. Tradition says that a Treffry took King
John prisoner at Poictiers, and as a reward was given permission to
quarter on his shield the arms of France. More than once the Treffrys
helped to defend Fowey from foreign violence; and their wives were as
brave as they. In the grounds of Place House is a statue of Elizabeth
Treffry who, in the absence of her husband, July 1457, headed his men
and beat off the French.
On the shore at Polruan is a ruinous blockhouse, from which the chain
that guarded Fowey Harbour was once stretched across the estuary to a
similar building on the other side. Here is Hall, the ancient seat of
the Mohuns, and while Charles I. was walking on the terrace he narrowly
escaped being struck by a ball from the guns of Lord Essex. The chapel
and guardhouse are still standing, but the former is used as a cowhouse.
LANTEGLOS: POLPERRO
The church of Lanteglos, consisting as it does of the work of so many
periods, is exceptionally interesting to the student of architecture.
The tower opens into the church by three massive arches, the western
corner of the piers being Norman; the nave arcades are of the fourteenth
century, the northern slightly earlier than the southern. The four
deeply recessed windows in the north with their elaborate tracery are
recognised by architects as resembling those of Somerset, which is
probably accounted for by the fact that this church was appropriated in
1284 to St. John's Hospital at Bridgwater. Between Lansallos Church,
with its lofty tower (514 ft. above the sea), a well-known seamark, and
Talland Church, which is full of rich and beautiful work lies Polperro
(Pool of Peter) in a cove at the foot of two high hills. This little
place is the southern duplicate of Port Isaac, but its air is
milder--less bracing--than that of the grey northern town. The houses
cluster thickly at the mouth of a cleft between the hills and the storms
are so terrible that although three piers protect the little harbour,
heavy baulks of timber have often to be let down into grooves, to break
the force of the waves. The Couch family have lived at Polperro during
several generations, the father and grandfather of the novelist having
been doctors there.
It is said that the first station of the Coastguard Preventive Service
was at Polperro, a statement which "gives furiously to think." The
welcome Cornwall gave to the Parliamentarian generals must have been
genial compared with that extended to the preventive officers.
Coastguards in Cornwall, the home of wreckers and smugglers! No doubt
they had an exhilarating time!
TALLAND, KILLIGARTH
AND TRELAWNE
There are three houses in this neighbourhood about which stories are
told. The manor of Talland formerly belonged to the Morths, and one of
this family employed a French servant. Mr. Morth does not seem to have
given his servant satisfaction, for the man returned home, and when war
broke out "returneth back again with a French crew, surprizeth suddenly
his master and his guests at a Xmas supper, and forceth the gentleman to
redeem his enlargement with the sale of a great part of his revenues"
(Carew). It is not often that the tables can be so neatly turned.
Killigarth belonged to the Bevilles, and in the sixteenth century, one
Sir William going forth from his own house on a winter's day, found
under a hedge a certain John Size nearly dead with cold. He took him
into his service and found that he had gotten a remarkable sort of
servant, for Size "would eat nettles and thistles, coals and candles,
birds with their feathers, and fish with their scales. He could handle,
unhurt, blazing wood and hot iron, and used to lie asleep with his head
curled under his body" (Carew).
The Trelawnys of Trelawne originally came from another place of the same
name, further inland. Among the pictures at this house--parts of which
are old--is an early one of Elizabeth, interesting on account of the
queen's youth.
John Trelawny, father of the celebrated Jonathan, Bishop of Bristol, was
committed to the Tower in 1627 by the House of Commons. As he was
popular in the county the Cornish were greatly exercised, and it is said
that the old ballad sung riotously by his compatriots:
"_And shall Trelawny die?
Here's twenty thousand Cornishmen
Will know the reason why--_"
was instrumental in procuring his release. Be that as it may, he was set
free by order of the King and shortly after made a baronet. The ballad
composed for the misfortunes of the father survived to be made of use
when his son, one of the seven bishops who presented the petition to
James II., was imprisoned and tried for seditious libel by that most
worthless of the Stuarts. The verses were subsequently lost, the Rev.
Robert Hawker, always ready to make good any little deficiency of the
kind having composed the present version.
THE GIANT'S HEDGE
A model of Bishop Trelawny's pastoral staff, made of gilt wood with
ornaments of copper, is preserved in Pelynt Church, where he was buried;
but the most interesting thing in this neighbourhood, as well as the
most puzzling, is that great earthwork the Giant's Hedge, which,
stretching from Lerrin to Looe, a matter of seven miles, passes through
this parish.
"_One day the devil having nothing to do
Built a great hedge from Lerrin to Looe._"
There is no evidence to say by whom this earthwork, which in parts is 7
ft. high and 20 ft. wide, was built. Once more let us pray for a
Passmore Edwards to supply us with this evidence--by judicious
excavation.
BOCONNOC
By way of Lanreath Church with its painted mediaeval rood screen we come
to the manor of Boconnoc. This house has seen a succession of noble
owners and some interesting visitors. Charles I. spent nearly the whole
of the cold and rainy August during which he was in Cornwall under its
hospitable roof, and Pitt, Governor of Madras, purchased the place with
part of the proceeds of the "Pitt" diamond. The wing in which the King
slept was pulled down by Pitt; and the house, which is built on rising
ground in a lawn of a hundred acres, remodelled. It was here that his
son, the famous statesman, was born. An obelisk has been set up in the
midst of the entrenchments made during the Civil Wars--a piece of
curious taste, as the man commemorated by it had nothing to do with
either king or parliament, living indeed long after both were dust!
Between this obelisk and Bradock Church was fought the battle of Bradock
Downs. The Royalists who had marched from Bodmin slept all night under
the hedges in Boconnoc Park. Next morning, January 19, 1643, they found
the Parliamentarians awaiting them on the rising ground of the common.
After keeping up a fire of small arms for some two hours, the Royalists
were led forward by Sir Beville Grenville in one of his dashing charges.
Their opponents broke and ran, fleeing to Liskeard with great loss of
arms and men. Their stay there, however, was but brief, for the
Cavaliers pursued them--across the downs, by the main road, and by St.
Pinnoc--and so took the town without a blow.