NOOKS AND CORNERS FROM LAUNCESTON TO DOZMARE
_The Upper Reaches of the Tamar: Launceston: The Old Highways: St.
Clether: Altarnun: Trebartha: The Trethevy Dolmen: The Cheesewring: St.
Cleer: St. Neot: Dozmare: Tregeagle: Lake Dwellings._
THE UPPER REACHES
OF THE TAMAR
Above Launceston, the Tamar soon has a companion in the shape of the
Bude Canal, which was built at great cost, but is no longer worked. At
Werrington, the river of that name joins the mother stream, after
forming an artificial lake, and Werrington is also interesting as a
place to which several bequests were made for the benefit of the poor
and the support of a school. Many years ago the parish chest, which
contained the donation deeds of these charities, was stolen from the
church. After a long time and great hue and cry it was discovered built
up into the wall of one of the houses and, of course, empty.
Boyton, a little north, is divided by the Tamar between Devon and
Cornwall. Here lived Agnes Brest, brought to the stake 1557, the only
one among the Cornish Protestants who was actually burnt. North
Tamarton, like Boyton, has a piece of land on the other side of the
river, but, unlike its neighbour, this portion was returned to Cornwall
by an Act of Parliament in 1832. The church of St. Denis is worth a
visit for the sake of the beautiful carving of the pulpit.
LAUNCESTON
These upper reaches of the Tamar are well stocked with trout, and
Launceston which, though not on the river, has a stream of its own, not
to speak of a special and personal canal, is a good centre for anglers
as well as a most interesting old ruin of a place. Its ancient name was
Dunheved, and a castle of some sort was crowning this great hill when
William the Conqueror gave Cornwall to his half-brother, Robert of
Mortain. The most noticeable thing about these Cornish fortifications
is the frequency and ease with which they fell into a ruinous condition.
Seeing that the walls are at their thinnest 3 ft. thick and elsewhere
10, one would have thought them capable of withstanding a little wind
and weather. But the contrary was the case. The present ruins are mostly
late Norman and Transition Norman of Henry III.'s time, but already in
1312, not a hundred years after they had replaced the older building, we
find them calling urgently for repair; while, when the Black Prince came
down to Cornwall in 1353 to make acquaintance with his duchy, for he
took that as seriously and conscientiously as everything else, the
stronghold was in a parlous condition. Yet it occupies a commanding
position and was evidently a place of considerable strength. No doubt
the good young Prince restored this Castle Terrible with its great
wall--the base court--containing three gateways, one of which is still
standing, and its dungeon of Doomsdale; this castle to which "the vill
of Truro yearly rendered one laburnum bow and the manor of Scilly three
hundred puffins!"
Imagine the arrival at the buttery hatch of those three hundred puffins!
We think them a leathery, fishy kind of food, and nowadays the servants
would leave in a body if required to eat them. But those were the good
old times, and in guardroom and kitchen no doubt they had puffin roasted
and puffin boiled and puffins in their pasties until the lady of the
castle said to her lord: "My love, in this weather, of course, you can't
expect those puffins to keep; really the Scillies are most
inconsiderate, one hundred at a time would have been sufficient!" and
then they had puffins potted and variously preserved until the garrison
groaned in chorus the old grace:
"_Puffins young and puffins old,
Puffins hot and puffins cold,
Puffins tender and puffins tough,
I thank the Lord I've had enough._"
At the time of the Civil Wars the Castle, nodding in age-long sleep and
slow decay, was restored and fortified. Charles I. and his troops passed
through the town in August 1644; and Richard Grenville, new-made Lord of
Lostwithiel, was imprisoned here, when his turbulence had exhausted the
royal patience. Now the county gaol is at Bodmin; but in those days of
dungeons and fetters the folk were incarcerated in the fortress--what is
now a playground being the place of execution.
The ruins are certainly the most interesting part of Launceston, and it
has ruins not only of the ivy-grown castle, but of a priory founded in
1126. Its faint remains, with the exception of a doorway built into the
White Hart Hotel, lie in a valley between the town and St. Stephen's.
When the privilege of sanctuary was abolished except in churches and
churchyards, Launceston was one of the seven towns that were made
sanctuaries for life, except for heinous crimes. The result, however,
was not altogether pleasant for the aforesaid towns, which, much to
their dismay, presently found themselves harbouring all the criminals
and rapscallions of the country. Preferring the room of these would-be
citizens to their company, the towns petitioned James I. for
"desecration" and the right of sanctuary was finally abolished.
The Church of St. Mary Magdalene was built by Sir Henry Trecarrel in
1524 on the death of his only child. It is of granite, and has the
peculiarity of being worked all over with picks instead of chisels. The
ornamentation is florid and excessive. A granite carving of the
Crucifixion, however, and other interesting monuments form part of the
churchyard wall. The vestry was once a shop that separated the tower
from the church, which though it seems strange to our modern notions was
by no means unusual in olden days.
THE OLD HIGHWAYS
The oldest road in the county is no doubt the one that runs from Tor
Point by way of the principal towns to the Land's End, but a great part
of this ground has already been trodden. Another ancient road leaving
Launceston goes via Bodmin Moors to Bodmin, branching off right and left
at Altarnon. It then crosses Tregoss Moor, passes St. Enoder and
Mitchell, and joins the first near Redruth. This road, running as it
does like a backbone down the centre of the county, we propose to take.
Egloskerry, Treneglos, and Trewen have churches which are mildly
interesting. In the first are two good Norman tympana, one over the
north doorway, representing a dragon, and one, now placed over the
interior of the south doorway, carved with the Agnus Dei. Here also is a
mutilated stone figure supposed to represent one of the Blanchminster
(_anglice_, Blackmonster) family. At Treneglos is another fine Norman
tympanum, having cut on it the tree of life with a lion on each side;
and Trewen has a good mediaeval bell inscribed, "St. Michael, pray for
us!"
At Lancast J. C. Adams, the discoverer of the planet Neptune, was born.
He was also the Senior Wrangler of his year at Cambridge, and one of the
exceptions to the old rule that Senior Wranglers never distinguish
themselves after leaving college. Another Cornish Senior Wrangler was
Henry Martyn, the missionary, to whose memory the baptistery in Truro
Cathedral is dedicated.
ST. CLETHER
Basil or Trebasil, in the parish of St. Clether, was for long the seat
of the Trevelyans. Among the ruins of the house is a large moorstone
oven, now used as a pigstye, while in the immediate neighbourhood are
four granite crosses in a good state of preservation. The Trevelyans,
like most of the Cornish gentry, were Cavaliers, and on one occasion a
party of Roundheads made shift to seize the squire in his own house.
"If you come on," said he, "I will send out my spearmen against you."
As there seemed nothing at the back of this threat, come on they did.
Whereupon he up with a teeming beehive and threw it among them. Not a
man-jack waited for the onslaught of those spearmen.
ALTARNON
At the junction of this northerly road with those running south to
Liskeard and west to Bodmin, lies Altarnon, the largest parish in
Cornwall. The patron saint is Non, the mother of St. David, and her
church is full of interesting memorials of the past. It possesses not
only an exceptionally large collection of sixteenth-century bench-ends,
but an oak rood screen, which antiquarians declare to be "by far the
finest specimen of fifteenth-century woodwork in Cornwall and one of the
very best existing examples of perpendicular oak-work in England." There
are also two paintings on wood (date 1620), a fragment of ancient glass
in the east window, locally supposed to contain a portrait of St. Non, a
communion rail of 1684, and other objects of interest. On several of the
bench-ends may be seen carvings of the little corn man or "neck," that
is to say, the figure that is plaited out of the heads of wheat in the
last sheaf at a harvest, and which is sometimes to be seen preserved
over the winter in a cottage.
Nor is the carefully restored church all that Altarnon has to show. St.
Non's Well was celebrated for the cure of lunacy, and Carew gives a
startling account of the proceedings. "In our forefather's days, when
devotion as much exceeded knowledge as knowledge now cometh short of
devotion, there were many bowsening places for curing madmen; and
amongst the rest one at Altarnunne, called St. Nunne's Pool, which
saint's altar it may be, _pars pro toto_, gave name to the church. And
because the manner of this bowsening is not so unpleasing to hear as it
was uneasy to feel, I will deliver you the practice as I received it
from the beholder.
"The water running from St. Nunne's Well fell into a square and
close-walled plot which might be filled at what depth they listed. Upon
this wall was the frantic person set to stand, his back towards the
pool, where a strong fellow, provided for the nonce, took him and tossed
him, and tossed him up and down, along and athwart the water, until the
patient, by foregoing his strength, had somewhat forgotten his fury.
Then was he conveyed to the church and certain masses sung over him;
upon which handling, if his right wits returned, St. Nunne had the
thanks, but if there appeared small amendment, he was bowsened again and
again, while there remained in him any hope of life or recovery."
The well is now dry, and the "square and close-walled plot" in ruins,
for which--lest it should occur to our medical men to try these old
remedies--thanks be to whom thanks are due.
TREBARTHA
The Lynher which rises in Altarnon flows southward to Trebartha, where
it forms a fine cascade and is crossed by the road to Liskeard. Not far
from this bridge is the manor of Treveniel, whose lord claimed the
right, whenever the Mayor of Launceston mounted his horse on the
occasion of the duke coming into Cornwall, of holding the stirrup. It
seems strange that any gentleman should set store by this right, which
is, after all, a relic of some forgotten form of tenure. What elderly
children we remain, squabbling over our foolish plays, in spite of the
twentieth century, the new humanitarianism, and all the other
solemnities!
THE TRETHEVY
DOLMEN
Before marching on Liskeard, Charles I. drew up his troops on the north
side of Caradon Hill. The copper mines on the south-west of this
moorland eminence have yielded ore to the value of several millions of
money, but are no longer worked. Near them is the Trethevy dolmen, the
largest in Cornwall, the cover stone being 14 ft. long and 9 ft. wide.
An old writer described it as "a little house raised of mighty stone,
standing on a little hill within a field." In comparison with some of
the foreign dolmens, however, it is but small. Several of the French
cromlechs are large enough to be converted into chapels, while one at
Copenhagen, called the "Chamber of Giants," will allow of twenty people
walking about in it.
THE CHEESEWRING
To the north of Caradon Down are three stone circles known as the
Hurlers and not far from them the remarkable granite stone known as the
Cheesewring. This curious natural phenomenon stands on the side of a
hill, the summit of which is encircled by a large entrenchment of unhewn
stones, while over against it is Kilmar Tor (1297 ft.), third highest
peak in Cornwall. It looks like large blocks of tabular granite poised
on smaller ones till the base of the Cheesewring is only about half the
size of what it supports, this irregularity being due to weathering. A
part of the top is broken. In consequence of careless quarrying close
by, the pile has had to be artificially supported.
Antiquaries once thought the Cheesewring a memorial to the dead, from
which in the course of centuries the covering earth had been washed
away. In this neighbourhood there are many such cairns and monuments. A
barrow near by was opened in 1818 and in it an extended skeleton and a
gold cup were found. This cup was of Scandinavian type, 3-1/2 in. high,
and weighed nearly three ounces, which suggests that some sea rover
found his last resting-place in these heathy solitudes.
ST. CLEER
From near the Cheesewring a moorland road leads down to St. Cleer, which
is divided from St. Neot by the lovely valley of the River Fowey. This
parish contains a number of antiquities of varying ages, in fact, as has
been said, "dead faiths and dead beliefs lie about this countryside like
withered leaves in autumn." At Trewartha Marsh is a prehistoric
settlement which probably belongs to the early iron age. Some of the
oblong huts are small, but others are fully 50 ft. long, while in the
group is what was possibly a public hall with stone benches along its
sides, and at the end a chair with arms. A few hut circles and an
ancient circular pound are also to be seen.
Doniert's stone, supposed to have been raised in memory of King Alfred's
friend, Dungarth of Cornwall, is near Redgate; and in the village of St.
Cleer is a Latin cross which stands beside a holy well reputed to have
been used like that at Altarnun for the "bowsening" or cure of maniacs.
This well has a beautiful little chapel built over the clear spring.
"_Tell me the street to Heaven.
This? Or that? Oh, which?
What webs of streets!_"
NOGUCHI.
The fifteenth-century tower of St. Cleer is unusually fine, and the
church contains a Norman north doorway, and an early English font of
great beauty.
ST. NEOT
To the north of both St. Cleer and St. Neot lie the wild and
uncultivated moors, and the saints must have been brave men who sought
the solitude of this granite strewn district. It is little wonder that
strange, and to our thinking, absurd legends, should have grown up about
them. St. Neot, as has been already said, was a cousin of King Alfred,
and it appears that in those days even minor royalties worked for their
living. The saint's oxen were stolen--he evidently farmed the land--so
the stags of the neighbouring forest performed all the necessary labour,
and for this good deed were endowed with a white mark wherever the yoke
of labour had touched their brown hides! This and similar stories are
depicted on one of the beautiful stained glass windows of the church.
This parish, like so many others in Cornwall, is rich in ancient
crosses, there being no less than three, all having incised crosses on
them, in the vicarage garden. In the churchyard is one on which is quite
the finest interlaced work on granite in the county. It has been mounted
on the stone, on which legend says St. Neot, who was a small man, stood
in order to unlock the church door. From which story it appears that in
those days the churches were kept locked!
Little St. Neot must have been glad to welcome his great kinsman, when
as the Book of Hyde (1200 A.D.) says: "Alfred went to Cornwall and
repaired to the Church of St. Gueryr, where St. Neot reposes, for the
purpose of alleviating his illness." Let us hope Neot was not too
saintly to feel a cousinly interest in the King's health and that the
two compared their widely differing lives and asked after old friends
and what had been the history of this one and that; and that they ate in
peace of the wheaten bread which St. Neot, after his farming operations,
would be able to offer, and the fish with which another legend daily
provided him, and so parted, the one to his burden of life, the other
staying on, content with uneventful peace.
The glory of St. Neot's Church is its collection of stained glass. It
dates from 1528, and though not quite the oldest in the county, it is
said that none comparable with it for beauty and richness exist either
in Cornwall or Devon.
The old road from Bodmin to Plymouth, that interesting prehistoric
highway by which the early Cornish probably sent their tin for shipment
abroad, runs through the village. Long before Alfred came to hob-nob
with his cousin, before the Romans so much as knew that Britain existed,
and while the mammoth in the valley of the Thames was still shaking his
great hairy sides over the littleness of man, the rough stuggy ponies,
whose descendants still feed on Goonhilly Downs, were carrying their
heavy packs along this track, over the old clapper bridges, past heath,
morass, forest, and settlement, at the call of need.
DOZMARE
On the high land north of St. Neot and a little beyond Brown Gilly (1058
ft.) lies Dozmare, the only inland lake of Cornwall. This tarn, which by
old writers was called the Dead Sea from the lifeless appearance of its
waters, lies on an elevated plateau in a dreary sad-coloured region. It
is nearly square and in circumference about a mile. Tennyson told Mr. J.
J. Rogers that the Loe Pool was where he pictured the throwing away of
the sword Excalibur. His description suits that and does not suit
Dozmare, while the moormen talk only of "Jan Tergeagle," that unjust
steward who does penance for his evil deeds in so many parts of
Cornwall. It is said that he has been set to bale Dozmare--supposed to
be bottomless--dry, and has been given to aid him in his task a limpet
shell pierced with a hole through which the water drips as he lifts it.
It is perhaps "flogging a dead horse" to mention that in the hot summer
of 1869 Dozmare dried up, thus proving that it was far from bottomless.
By disclosing a number of unfortunate trout and eels, it also showed it
was by no means "dead." To a moorman the suggestion that Tregeagle has
evidently accomplished his task, however, has but little weight. His
imagination overleaps the trifling fact of the dry summer and its
consequences, and only looks before and after. The pool seems
mysterious, it has a healthy legend, and to that legend any one hearing
the wind howl over these wastes on a December night may well give
credence.
What was the origin of the moated grange? In Dozmare is a subaqueous
pile of stones on which once stood a crannog or lake dwelling, while
many arrow heads and worked flints have been found in the neighbourhood.
Did the folk who built their homes over a pool find the water so great a
protection that their children going east and west, and being unable to
discover any more convenient lakes, built a stockaded house, and for its
greater safety must by their personal labour surround it with the
element in which they had always trusted? Is the moated grange then only
the direct descendant of the lake dwelling?