light over the waste of waters, a solitary ship goes down into the
western horizon; and the golden clouds of summer follow her, one by one,
into the bosom of the night.
The holiday season, with its bands of health-seeking and somewhat noisy
tourists, is not the best time of the year for a visit to Land's End. As
a show place it has been compelled to provide certain conveniences for
the traveller, and these jarring notes of modernity are rather
aggressive. There is much to be said for Mr. W. H. Hudson's plea for a
national fund that shall purchase the Land's End; but one fears much
water will have flowed around the historic headland before a "Society
for the Preservation of Noble Landscape" becomes an accomplished fact.
About a mile from the cliffs stands the rocky little islet of Carn Bras,
whereon is situated the Longships lighthouse. Although such a short
distance away this lighthouse, and that on the Wolf Rock seven miles
off, are frequently cut off from all communication with the mainland by
stress of weather. The submerged crags that fringe this portion of the
coast are many, while the larger of those whose jagged points appear
above the water, are the Armed Knight, the Irish Lady, and Enys Dodman,
the last being pierced by a fine natural arch about forty feet in
height. The Cornish name for the Armed Knight was "An Marogeth Arvowed",
and it was also called Guela or Guelaz, the "rock easily seen".
To enjoy fully these western cliffs, one should stay in the locality for
some days; be on the spot at all hours, see the mists of morning and the
mellow tints of evening when all is calm and peaceful. At such times
those who love the sea breezes, and the hoary rocks bearded with moss
and lichen; those who are fond of the legends and traditions of the
past, will find much to interest them at the Land's End. It is a
favourite spot with artists, many of whom come year after year to depict
its frowning cliffs and heaving belt of sea, for, curiously enough, the
grandest effects of the waves are frequently seen in calm weather, when
the heavy ground swell causes the waves to break with great force on the
rocks.
In his criticism on Turner's picture of the Land's End, Ruskin wrote:
"At the Land's End there is to be seen the entire disorder of the
surges, when every one of them, divided and entangled among
promontories as it rolls, and beaten back post by post from walls
of rock on this side and that side, recoils like the defeated
division of a great army, throwing all behind it into disorder,
breaking up the succeeding waves into vertical ridges, which, in
their turn, yet more totally shattered upon the shore, retire in
more hopeless confusion, until the whole surface of the sea becomes
one dizzy whirl of rushing, writhing, tortured, undirected rage,
bounding and crashing, and coiling in an anarchy of enormous power,
subdivided into myriads of waves, of which every one is not, be it
remembered, a separate surge, but part and portion of a vast one,
actuated by eternal power, and giving in every direction the mighty
undulation of impetuous line, which glides over the rocks and
writhes in the wind, overwhelming the one and piercing the other
with the form, fury, and swiftness of lambent fire."
[Illustration: PENZANCE FROM NEWLYN HARBOUR]
LAND'S END TO NEWQUAY
No visitor to Cornwall can fail to notice the remarkable number of
wells, situated near stone circles, dolmens, cromlechs, or churches that
have replaced them in more modern times, for well-worship was
undoubtedly one of the most persistent of the pagan customs with which
the early Christian missionaries had to deal. Sir Norman Lockyer
writes:--"It seems to be accepted now that well-worship in Britain
originated long before the Christian era; that it was not introduced by
the Christian missionaries, but rather they found it in vogue on their
arrival, and tolerated it at first and utilized it afterwards, as they
did a great many other pagan customs."
It is of course quite easy to understand how a once devout custom
degenerated into mere superstition, how some wells came to be called
"wishing wells", &c., in which the modern village maidens drop their
pins, in much the same way as their pagan ancestors left offerings to
invoke the aid of the tutelary saint.
The superstitions attached to the wells of Cornwall are as strong
to-day as ever they were in the past, and there seems little reason to
doubt that the good condition of wells, cromlechs, and other antiquities
in the county, is due to the widespread traditions that dreadful harm
will befall those who disturb or mutilate any ancient remains.
Sennen Cove lying immediately to the north of Land's End is a very
charming little spot that shows signs of becoming a fashionable
watering-place. The church, situated a mile inland, is dedicated to St.
Senan or Senannus, one of those numerous Irish saints who showed such a
predilection for the land of Cornwall. It is a low, weather-beaten
structure with a good tower, and standing nearly 400 feet above the
level of the sea, it forms a conspicuous land- and sea-mark. Within,
there is a mutilated alabaster figure that is thought to have
represented the Virgin and Child, and a small piece of mural painting.
East of the church, a few yards from the roadside, and near the end of a
small cottage, is the stone known as the Table Men, a block of granite
nearly eight feet in length, and three feet high. The word "main", or
"men", is the old Cornish for "stone". Here, according to tradition, a
great battle took place between King Arthur and some Danish invaders,
and the stone is also said to have been used as a royal dining table,
when the number of kings who dined here is given by some old
topographers as three, while others speak of seven. Hals gives their
names as follows: "Ethelbert, fifth king of Kent; Cissa, second king of
the South Saxons; Kingills, sixth king of the West Saxons; Sebert, third
king of the East Saxons; Ethelfred, seventh king of the Northumbers;
Penda, ninth king of the Mercians; and Sigebert, fifth king of the East
Angles; who all flourished about the year 600". Merlin, the Wizard, who
appears to have prophesied something about every nook in the kingdom,
foretold that a yet larger number of kings will assemble around this
rock for a similar purpose on the destruction of the world. A rock near
Lanyon Cromleh claims a similar honour, and the same story is attached
to another at Bosavern in the parish of St. Just.
Sennen Cove is situated on the curve of Whitesand Bay, which terminates
to the northward in the fine bluff headland of Cape Cornwall. It was
once a favourite spot for smugglers and wreckers, and here Athelstan,
after his final defeat of the Cornish, started to conquer the Scilly
Isles. Stephen landed here on his first arrival in England, as did
Perkin Warbeck when he sought to seize the crown he claimed. King John
is also said to have landed here on his return from Ireland. Cape
Cornwall, a mile and a half from the village, is one of the most
prominent headlands of the western coast, but being in the
neighbourhood of the great mining district it is somewhat neglected by
visitors, a remark that applies to the whole of this portion of the
coast as far as St. Ives, the great exception being Gurnards' Head. The
inland country is bleak and barren, with a number of mining shafts
capping the hillocks, with the result that the uninviting hinterland has
inspired few people with the desire to explore a really grand and rocky
piece of coast.
Nearly a mile south-west of Cape Cornwall are the Brisons, two fearful
and dangerous rocks, rising about seventy feet above high-water mark.
Brison is Cornish for prison, and tradition affirms that these rocks
were once used as prisons.
North of the cape is Kenidjack headland, Porthleden being the name of
the cove that divides the promontories. Skirting the coast from
Kenidjack many fine bits of rocky scenery are passed. Botallack Head,
with its old engine houses perched on its rocky crags, has a singularly
savage appearance. The mine is one of the oldest in Cornwall, and the
ancient workings continued for a considerable distance under the bed of
the sea. The Levant, another submarine mine to the north, has also
considerable workings beneath the sea.
[Illustration: IN THE HARBOUR, NEWLYN]
The next point of interest is Pendeen, or Pendinas, the "castled
headland", near to which is Pendeen House, now a farm, but once a
seventeenth-century manor house, in which the celebrated Cornish
historian and antiquary, Dr. William Borlase, was born in 1695. He
corresponded with Pope to whom on one occasion he sent a Cornish
diamond, which was thus acknowledged by the poet: "I have received your
gift, and have so placed it in my grotto, that it will resemble the
donor, in the shade, but shining". The famous cave called the Pendeen
Vau, was discovered a few yards from his home. For his day he was quite
an enlightened antiquary, and although modern research has shown his
_Antiquities of Cornwall_ to be full of pitfalls for the unwary, it is a
book that has formed the basis for many an interesting volume on the
county. The church of Pendeen occupies as bleak a site as could anywhere
be found in England. It was designed and built by Robert Aitken the
famous Cornish missioner. It was fashioned on the plan of the ancient
cathedral of Iona, and was built almost entirely by the people
themselves.
A little eastward of Pendeen is the church town of Morvah, "the place by
the sea", which has traditions relating to mermaids. Northward is
Porthmorna, or Porth Moina, the Monk's Port, formed on one side by the
fine cliff of Bosigran, where the rocks of granite have a pale reddish
tint; so that when lit up by the sun they have a very brilliant
appearance. A few years ago the bleak hills and towering cliffs in this
locality were a favourite haunt of the peregrine falcon, the cliff hawk,
while the blue rock dove, and Baillon's crake have been found in the
district. Bosigran lies just under Cairn Galva, whose boldly-formed
outline is a conspicuous landmark. Just beyond Porthmeor is the
Gurnard's Head, the finest and most romantic point on the north side of
the Land's End, and one of the show places of the county. The ancient
name for the headland was Treryn Dinas. Portions of a small chapel
remain on the isthmus, and there was once a holy well close by.
The village of Zennor, about a quarter of a mile distant, lies in a wild
and stony district. Within the very interesting church are some quaint
bench ends, one of which depicts a mermaid, complete with comb, mirror,
and fishy tail, but the carving is of a very primitive order. On Zennor
Beacon is the famous Zennor Quoit or Cromlech, the largest in Cornwall,
and one of the finest in the country. Between Zennor and St. Ives a wild
tract of country forms the parish of Towednack with an ancient church
within which is a true chancel arch, a constructional feature that is of
rare occurrence in Cornish churches.
The irregularly built little town of St. Ives, which has not inaptly
been called the "Art Centre of England", is made up of two distinct
parts. The older portion, which consists of oldfashioned houses, and
narrow tortuous streets, is situated on a low spit of land called the
"island", while "up-along" on the higher ground above the station, is
the favourite and fashionable holiday resort. The ancient name of the
place, Porth Ia, perpetuates the memory of another Irish saint, Ia, who
is claimed as a convert of St. Patrick, and who is said to have floated
from the shores of the Emerald Isle to those of Cornwall on a miraculous
leaf, "by which", Mr. Arthur Salmon tells us, "is clearly meant a
coracle of the kind still to be seen in parts of Wales". The cell of St.
Ia stood on the site of the present parish church, which is said to
contain her bones, and this saint is not to be confounded with those of
St. Ive, near Liskeard, or St. Ives in Huntingdonshire. The position of
St. Ives, on the western slope of an extensive bay, and with two
remarkably fine sandy beaches, is one of uncommon beauty. The finest
views of the town and the neighbourhood are those obtained from the
grounds of the Tregenna Castle Hotel, and from the Battery Rocks.
A lofty hill to the south of the town, has a pyramidical erection of
granite in memory of John Knill, born in 1733. The obelisk bears three
inscriptions: "Johannes Knill, 1782"; "I know that my Redeemer liveth";
and "Resurgam". After serving his apprenticeship to a solicitor, Knill
became Collector of Customs, and afterwards Mayor of St. Ives. Long
before his death, which took place in 1811, he erected this mausoleum on
Worvas Hill, but it was never applied to its purpose, as he was buried
in London. Among the provisions of a curious will he ordained that
"certain ceremonies should be observed once every five years, on the
festival of St. James the Apostle; ten pounds to be spent in a dinner
for the mayor, collector of Customs, and clergyman, and two friends to
be invited by each of them, making a party of nine persons, to dine at
some tavern in the borough; five pounds to be equally divided amongst
ten girls, natives of the borough and daughters of seamen, fishermen, or
tinners, each of them not exceeding ten years of age, who shall, between
ten and twelve o'clock of the forenoon of that day, dance for a quarter
of an hour at least, on the ground adjoining the mausoleum, and after
the dance sing the 100th Psalm of the old version, to the fine old tune
to which the same was then sung in St. Ives Church; one pound to a
fiddler who shall play to the girls while dancing and singing at the
mausoleum, and also before them on their return home therefrom; two
pounds to two widows of seamen, fishers, or tinners of the borough,
being sixty-four years old or upwards, who shall attend the dancing and
singing of the girls, and walk before them immediately after the
fiddler, and certify to the mayor, collector of Customs, and clergyman,
that the ceremonies have been duly performed; one pound to be laid out
in white ribbons for breast-knots for the girls and widows, and a
cockade for the fiddler, to be worn by them respectively on that day and
on the Sunday following". The observances have been duly carried out
since the death of John Knill. The next observance will be in 1911, and
when once at St. Ives the present writer was fortunate enough to witness
the quaint ceremonies that are enacted every five years around the
mausoleum of John Knill, who has succeeded in making a posthumous name
for himself at a very trifling cost.
[Illustration: LAND'S END]
It was at St. Ives that Anders Zorn, the celebrated Swedish artist,
painted his first picture with oils, a fine work that now hangs on the
walls of the Luxembourg. The sketcher from nature who clambers along
this rocky coast in search of colour notes or impressions, will
perpetually experience the difficulty of not knowing where to halt,
always a difficult problem for a painter in a new territory. Many are
they who have seen the day draw to a close with nothing accomplished.
This is not the result of idleness, but on account of the feeling of
expectancy, the ever-alluring idea, that by going a little farther
something really uncommon will be found. Points of interest innumerable
will be passed in the pursuit of this beautiful will-o'-the-wisp, this
perfect composition which never can, and never will, materialize on
paper or on canvas.
Hayle and Lelant are both worth visiting. The former has a fine beach
for bathing, and the latter is renowned for its golf course. Lelant is a
very ancient town whose fine old church is the mother church of both
Towednack and St. Ives.
Redruth and Camborne are important mining towns to which no one would go
in search of the picturesque, and the bleak and barren surroundings may
not inaptly be called the "Black Country" of Cornwall. Gwennap Pit, near
Redruth, was the natural amphitheatre where John Wesley preached with
marked success to thousands of Cornish miners. For the antiquary there
are many interesting remains at Carn Brea, a rocky eminence overlooking
the town, and capped with a monument, erected in 1836, to Francis, Baron
de Dunstanville and Basset, of Tehidy.
The best mine to explore, should one's tastes run in that direction, is
the Dolcoath Mine, near Camborne station. The mine yields both copper
and tin, and has reached the depth of 2250 feet. Portreath is to a
certain extent the port of Redruth. The cliffs are rather fine and the
seas exceptionally so in rough weather, but as a good deal of refuse
water from the mines is discharged here the result is that the sea for
a considerable distance is frequently tinged with a thick reddish
colour.
Between Portreath and St. Agnes the coast scenery is rendered very
attractive by reason of the number of coves into which it is broken,
such as Porth Towan, a very favourite spot with visitors.
The little town of St. Agnes is steadily growing in popularity, while
St. Agnes Beacon is of great geological interest, and from the summit a
fine view is obtained of the Cornish coast from Trevose Head to St.
Ives.
Opie, the painter, was a native of St. Agnes, where he was born in 1761.
The house is passed on the way to Perranporth, and is known as "Harmony
Cottage". Opie's artistic talent is said to have been first recognized
by "Peter Pindar", when that worthy resided at Truro. A large number of
his early paintings may still be seen in many of the houses in the
vicinity of his birthplace, although a considerable number have been
carried off by discerning collectors.
A few years ago Perranporth was nothing but a small cluster of
fishermen's cottages, but the fine stretches of golden sand and some
imposing masses of arched rocks have brought many visitors, for whom
increased accommodation has had to be found. One and a half miles from
Perran Round, an ancient amphitheatre, are portions of an old church,
long hidden in the sand, over which St. Piran, or St. Piranus officiated
in the sixth century. The church of Perranporth is a chapel of ease to
Perranzabuloe, i.e., _Piran-in-sabulo_.
Although Max Mueller satisfied himself that St. Piran was a purely
mythical figure, and that the word "Piran" meant merely a "digger",
others assure us that there is enough evidence to satisfy a court of law
that Piran was connected with the school founded by Patrick, and that in
the fifth century he was a missionary in Cornwall. Excavations are being
made constantly around this little church half-buried in the fine sand,
and many important discoveries have resulted. There appears to be little
doubt that the church shares with Gwithian oratory the distinction of
being the earliest Christian edifice of which any considerable portions
remain in England. At the same time it is as well to bear in mind that
the part of the material structure revealed by the spade is some two
centuries later in date than St. Piran, the patron saint of the Tinners.
[Illustration: IN ST. IVES HARBOUR]
"There is a charm in the Cornish coast which belongs to no other coast
in the world." So wrote Dean Alford many years ago, and no portion of
Cornwall possesses greater charm than the section as seen from Newquay
Beacon. Like so many of its neighbouring holiday resorts, Newquay was a
very small and not very well known little place until the Great Western
Railway gave it four trains a day from London, advertised its charms in
the press, and depicted them in glowing colours on innumerable posters.
The result is that Newquay has boomed to such an extent that it is now
the great centre of attraction on the north coast. Twenty years ago
Newquay was little more than a cluster of cottages, but so rapid has
been its development that we seem to be centuries away from the days
when there was no fashionable hotel on the Headland, and when the place
was reached along a jolting little mineral line from Par Junction.
The town itself is not old enough to be interesting, and as it possesses
no "front" but few of its streets command a view of the bold
promontories, fine beaches, tidal inlets, and the singularly blue sea,
that make it such an attractive place for a holiday.
As Mr. J. Henwood Thomas says: "One of the chief glories of Newquay is
its grand headland. Running right out into the Atlantic it forms a bold,
natural pier, in comparison with which the costly artificial piers which
are to be found at most watering-places of repute are mere toys. Nothing
can be more exhilarating than a walk to the extreme end of this jagged
promontory. It is like breathing a vitalizing essence."
Here, on the beaches of Newquay and Fistral Bay, one may go to the
verge of the waves, and breathe the ozone that rises from the line of
breakers, without the necessity of making detours to avoid fruit-stalls
and bathing-saloons. Fortunately the fine sands around Newquay have not
yet become a mart for sweetmeats and cocoanuts, nor are they the happy
hunting ground of the negro minstrel and other troupes of fantastic
entertainers.
The chief, and one might say the only glory of North Cornwall, is the
magnificent line of coast, particularly that portion of it bounded by
Bedruthan Steps on the one hand, and Watergate Bay on the other, with
Mawgan Porth and Beacon Cove lying between.
At low tides Watergate Bay has a splendid stretch of sands, more than
two miles in length, and along the cliffs here sea-pinks, sea-lavender,
and golden samphire may be found, although the last named is becoming
extremely rare. The cliffs along this portion of the coast are pierced
by numerous shady caves and caverns, some of which, like the Cathedral
Cavern and the one known as the Banqueting Hall, are of vast extent, and
are not infrequently used for concerts and other entertainments held in
aid of local charities.
In spite of the necessary changes and improvements due to the ever
increasing number of visitors, there is still much that is primitive to
be seen around Newquay. Almost every ruin, rock, and church has its
legend, more or less ancient and authentic, and once off the beaten
track there is much that will interest the lovers of saint and folklore,
as well as the admirers of coast scenery of a bold and broken kind.
All visitors to Newquay make their way to Crantock "churchtown",
situated on the western side of the Gannel, a small tidal stream which
is crossed by means of a plank bridge. The village of Crantock is
ancient and interesting, but the great attraction of the place is the
church. Less than a dozen years ago the fabric was in a ruinous
condition until the vicar succeeded in raising sufficient funds with
which to preserve the building. In his appeal for help, an appeal that
was well responded to by the visitors to Newquay, the vicar explained
that "the foundation dates from the sixth century, when the Celtic
Bishop, Carantoc--or Cairnech--whose name the church bears and who was a
companion of St. Patrick, first founded a religious cell here. The
church became collegiate before the time of King Edward the Confessor,
and continued so, with large endowment, until it was utterly despoiled,
and its community scattered by King Henry VIII."
The circular font bears the date 1473, and many portions of early work,
including the twelfth century walls and arches, are likewise to be seen
within the building. The font, which is thought to be late Norman, bears
a date cut in bold relief on the side:--
"ANNO DOMINI MILLESIMO CCCC^o Lxxiij (1473)."
There were once small columns supporting the heads still to be seen at
each angle, but these have disappeared.
Mr. Arthur Salmon tells us that tradition speaks of Crantock as having
been once part of a large town or district named Langarrow, or sometimes
Languna, most of which now lies beneath the sand-towans. "This town is
said to have had many fine churches and buildings, vying with the best
cities in the Britain of that day, which seems to have been the tenth
century."
[Illustration: THE CLIFFS, NEWQUAY]