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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:10:43 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:10:43 -0700 |
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diff --git a/38614-h/38614-h.htm b/38614-h/38614-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb43052 --- /dev/null +++ b/38614-h/38614-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5114 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/i_005.jpg" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Cornwall, by G. E. Mitton. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +.smcaplc { text-transform: lowercase; font-variant: small-caps; } + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%} + +hr.r5 {width: 5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +hr.r65 {width: 65%; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em;} + +ul.index { list-style-type: none; } +li.ifrst { margin-top: 1em; } +li.indx { margin-top: .5em; } + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +.large {font-size: 130%;} + +.LARGE {font-size: 170%; font-weight: bold;} + +/* Table of contents */ + .toc {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .toc .label {text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 10%;} + + .toc ol {list-style-type: none;} + + .loi {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .loi .label {text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 10%;} + + .loi ol {list-style-type: decimal;} + +.IX {list-style-type: none;} + +.plain {list-style-type: none;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cornwall, by G. E. Mitton + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cornwall + +Author: G. E. Mitton + +Illustrator: G. F. Nicholls + +Release Date: January 18, 2012 [EBook #38614] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CORNWALL *** + + + + +Produced by Anna Hall, Chris Curnow and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a><br /><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a></span></p> +<h1>CORNWALL</h1> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Publisher's addresses"> +<tr><td> </td><td align="center">AGENTS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">AMERICA</td><td align="left">THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /><span class="smcap">64 & 66 Fifth Avenue, NEW YORK</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">AUSTRALASIA </td><td align="left">OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS<br /><span class="smcap">205 Flinders Lane, MELBOURNE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">CANADA</td><td align="left">THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD.<br /><span class="smcap">St. Martin's House, 70 Bond Street, TORONTO</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">INDIA</td><td align="left">MACMILLAN & COMPANY, LTD.<br /><span class="smcaplc">MACMILLAN BUILDING, BOMBAY</span><br /><span class="smcaplc">309 BOW BAZAAR STREET, CALCUTTA</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_005.jpg" width="600" height="465" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> +<p class="center">THE LAND'S END</p> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="center LARGE">CORNWALL</p> + + +<p class="center">PAINTED BY<br /> +<span class="large">G. F. NICHOLLS</span></p> + +<p class="center">DESCRIBED BY<br /> +<span class="large">G. E. MITTON</span></p> + + + +<p class="center">WITH<br /> +TWENTY FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS<br /> +IN COLOUR</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 204px;"> +<img src="images/i_007.jpg" width="204" height="230" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center large">A. & C. BLACK, LTD.<br /> +4, 5 & 6 SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W.<br /> +1915 +</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a><br /><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>Contents</h2> + +<ol class="toc"> +<li><p class="center">CHAPTER I + <span class="label smcap">page</span></p> +<span class="smcap">Popular Ideas of Cornwall</span> <span class="label"><a href="#Page_1"> 1 </a></span></li> + +<li><p class="center">CHAPTER II</p> +<span class="smcap">The Gateway of the Duchy</span> <span class="label"><a href="#Page_24"> 24 </a></span></li> + +<li><p class="center">CHAPTER III</p> +<span class="smcap">The "Toe" of Cornwall</span> <span class="label"><a href="#Page_34"> 34 </a></span></li> + +<li><p class="center">CHAPTER IV</p> +<span class="smcap">Furthest West and Furthest South</span> <span class="label"><a href="#Page_51"> 51 </a></span></li> + +<li><p class="center">CHAPTER V</p> +<span class="smcap">King Arthur's Land</span> <span class="label"><a href="#Page_71"> 71 </a></span></li> + +<li><p class="center">CHAPTER VI</p> +<span class="smcap">The Sandy Beaches of the Northern Coast</span> <span class="label"><a href="#Page_92"> 92 </a></span></li> + +<li><p class="center">CHAPTER VII</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span><span class="smcap">The Inlets of the South Coast</span> <span class="label"><a href="#Page_109"> 109 </a></span></li> + +<li><p class="center">CHAPTER VIII</p> +<span class="smcap">Cornish Towns</span> <span class="label"><a href="#Page_124"> 124 </a></span></li> + +<li><p class="center">CHAPTER IX</p> +<span class="smcap">Cornish Customs</span> <span class="label"><a href="#Page_135"> 135 </a></span></li> + +<li><span class="smcap">Some Books on Cornwall</span> <span class="label"><a href="#Page_145"> 145 </a></span></li> + +<li><span class="smcap">Index</span> <span class="label"><a href="#Page_147"> 147 </a></span></li> +</ol> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2><a name="List_of_Illustrations" id="List_of_Illustrations"></a>List of Illustrations +in Colour</h2> + + +<ol class="loi"> +<li>The Land's End <span class="label"><i><a href="#Page_ii">Frontispiece</a></i></span></li> +<li style="list-style-type:none"> <span class="label smcap">facing page</span></li> +<li>Carbis Bay <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_6"> 6 </a></span></li> +<li>Kynance Cove <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_10"> 10 </a></span></li> +<li>At Polperro <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_14"> 14 </a></span></li> +<li>The Coast near the Lizard <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_16"> 16 </a></span></li> +<li>Old Bridge at Lostwithiel <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_28"> 28 </a></span></li> +<li>St. Michael's Mount <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_34"> 34 </a></span></li> +<li>Newlyn <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_38"> 38 </a></span></li> +<li>Lamorna Cove <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_42"> 42 </a></span></li> +<li>Caerthilian Cove <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_66"> 66 </a></span></li> +<li>St. Ives <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_92"> 92 </a></span></li> +<li>A Street in St. Ives <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_94"> 94 </a></span></li> +<li>From Lelant to Godrevy <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_98"> 98 </a></span></li> +<li>Fowey <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_110"> 110 </a></span></li> +<li>Bodinnick Ferry, Fowey <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_114"> 114 </a></span></li> +<li>Looe <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_118"> 118 </a></span></li> +<li>Flushing—from Falmouth <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_122"> 122 </a></span></li> +<li>Truro <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_124"> 124 </a></span></li> +<li>The Banks of the Fal, Falmouth <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_128"> 128 </a></span></li> +<li>At Newlyn <span class="label smcap"><a href="#Page_138"> 138 </a></span></li> +</ol> + +<p class="center"><i>Bird's-Eye View of Fowey Haven, pp. <a href="#Page_112"> 112 </a> and 113.</i><br /> +<i>Sketch-Map at <a href="images/combined_maps.jpg">end of volume</a>.</i></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a><br /><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + +<h2><a name="CORNWALL" id="CORNWALL"></a>CORNWALL</h2> + + + + +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + +<p class="center">POPULAR IDEAS OF CORNWALL</p> + + +<p>To the mind of the ordinary Briton there is a +curious attraction in "getting as far as you can"—a +streak in mentality which has accounted in no +small degree for the world-wide Empire. In +England you cannot in one direction get any +farther than the extreme point of Cornwall. Owing +to the geographical configuration of Cornwall, +the idea is magnified very vigorously into a +really gallant effort to "get there," such as might +be made by an individual stretching out not only to +his full stride, but indulging in a good kick! We +feel in very truth we have "got there," on to the +edge of something or somewhere. As Wilkie +Collins expresses it, the Land's End is "the sort of +place where the last man in England would be +most likely to be found waiting for death at the +end of the world!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<p>Thus it is that Cornwall holds a special magnet +which steadily draws a never-ending succession of +strangers. Look only at those who do the feat +of cycling or motoring from John o' Groat's to +Land's End. Picture them in an indomitable long-drawn-out +line, wheel to wheel; shadowy forms +flitting over that last—or first—piece of road, full +of hope and exultation at the thought of the +journey's end, or full of anticipation at the journey's +beginning. No road in England has been so +wheel-worn as that strip running out to the most +westerly point of England.</p> + +<p>Some there are who are drawn by a similar +magnet to the Lizard, the most southerly point +of our land, but the attraction is not so potent. +From time immemorial John o' Groat's to Land's +End has formed the measure of Britain.</p> + +<p>For very many years Cornwall has been known +for its fine coast scenery, but wild and desolate +scenery was not the fashion in Early Victorian +days, and there were comparatively few brave souls +who penetrated so far. It is rather remarkable to +notice how many books about the charm of Cornwall +appeared in the sixties, doubtless due to the opening +of the Cornwall Railway in 1859. There is +Wilkie Collins's <i>Rambles Beyond Railways</i>, 1861;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +J. O. Halliwell's <i>Rambles in Western Cornwall</i> and +J. T. Blight's <i>Land's End</i>, the same year, followed +by Richard Edmonds's <i>Land's End District</i> the +next year.</p> + +<p>But Cornwall really began to be known by +hundreds of persons in place of tens about 1904, +and since then the number of visitors has increased +to thousands.</p> + +<p>This book is not written by a Cornishman, for +the very obvious reason that no Cornishman could +for one instant think impartially of his Duchy, any +more than you could expect a Yorkshireman to +believe that the "rest of England" was in any way +to be compared with Yorkshire. The more individual +and peculiar a person is, the more deeply +is he loved by those who really know him, provided +that he has lovable qualities. No characterless +good soul ever wins the heartfelt devotion that +is the meed of those who have unexpected kinks +and corners in their personality, and in the same +way a flat, featureless country, carefully cultivated +and uninteresting, will never win to itself the true +land-love felt for one that is varied, rough maybe, +rugged a bit, and in a hundred ways surprising. +Of all things human nature hates boredom, and the +man or the country who can win free of any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +trace of boredom insures a reward. Cornwall has in +a peculiar measure gained the devotion of its own +people. Not only on account of its unexpectedness, +but because it stands in some measure apart +from the rest of England. The Celtic blood of its +older inhabitants, while making them akin to the +Welsh and Irish, cuts them off from the Saxons, +whom so often and so heartily in the old days they +fought.</p> + +<p>The geographical position of Cornwall, with three +sides washed by the sea, and even the "land" +boundary mainly marked by a river, has influenced +its sons, who, never being far from the sound of the +surging waves, have gained something of the robust +aloofness of the sailor. They are friendly to all, but +guarded nevertheless; and standing thus apart, +marked out by their territory, with small chance +to mingle with inhabitants of other counties, the +clan feeling among them has grown to be analogous +to that of the clans in Scotland. All other +Britishers are to the true Cornishman "foreigners." +How then could a man so imbued with his own and +his Duchy's place in regard to the "rest of England" +write a book which should convey in any way the +real characteristics of his land?</p> + +<p>It would be a feat impossible.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> + +<p>The rugged outlines of a well-known face lose +meaning with years of familiarity, and are taken +for granted; thus it is with landmarks in Cornwall, +which would never figure in such a chronicle at all.</p> + +<p>Therefore, as this book is intended not so much +for those who know Cornwall as for those who will +know it sometime in that future which lies beyond +the reading of it, the impressions of an outsider are +most fitting.</p> + +<p>There are people who go to Cornwall once for +a holiday and return to it ever and again, when +they get the chance, unable to find satisfaction +anywhere else; the "atmosphere" of the country has +entered into their blood. They think with an ache +of the coast in all its cruelty and glory, they picture +the bright blue of the rain-washed skies in a burst of +sunshine, and they recall the great "hedges" with a +foundation or core of stone, generations old, overlaid +by an ample covering of turf and grass, a hot-bed +for the stonecrop and hart's-tongue, fern, primrose, +or foxglove.</p> + +<p>But what is a catalogue of words? It conveys +nothing, any more than a catalogue of the names +of books. Unless one can conjure up feelings, +the attempt to explain the grip of the Duchy on +recollection is useless. The clammy sea-wind on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +the face, the sense of great spaces, the grandeur +of the coast, with its solemn, immovable rampart of +cliff, and the pulsing life of the cold spray, for ever +beating and frilling against the hard, glistening +surface—these enter into consciousness. Of all +things living, the swing of the seagull on motionless +wings over a cavernous hollow brings one nearest +to the realization of a dream.</p> + +<p>Others again go to visit the Duchy and come +away disappointed because they have not found +exactly what they wanted or expected. They take +small children to coast places of which they have +only heard by name, and are dismayed to find there +is no sand, no beach, no bathing—only hills steep +as the blue slate-roofs; and a good deal in the +"people's" part of the town, which is narrow, +slatternly and disagreeable. But it is one of the traits +of Cornwall that she embraces such wide variety +and shows such startling contrasts close up against +each other. There are certainly a great many +places where there are no sands at all, nothing but +sheer wild cliffs falling perpendicularly to the sea, +pierced by gigantic caves, to be explored at low tide +only, and a small strip of shingle on which bathers are +warned to enter at their peril, for the huge breakers +from the Atlantic roll in continually, and one +moment you are over head and shoulders in the +smother of their foam, and the next stand naked to +the winds, with a villainous undertow sucking away +the pebbles from beneath your twitching soles. +Carew, Cornwall's best-known historian, speaks of +the Duchy's "long, naked sides." The writer on +geology in the <i>Victoria County History</i> says: "It +has been calculated that a single roller of the +Atlantic ground-swell (20 feet high) falls with a +pressure of about a ton on every square foot." +Places where such forces are felt are the Poles +apart from the usual English seaside resort, sarcastically +described by "Q" as "A line of sea in front, +a row of hotels and lodging-houses behind, all as +flat as a painted cloth, with a brass band to help +the morality." Yet even in Cornwall if you want +sandy beach you can have it. There are sands that +stretch for miles, firm and flat, such as the famous +beaches at St. Ives; and in most places, even the +rocky ones, there is some provision made for bathing +of a sort.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_020.jpg" width="600" height="456" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">CARBIS BAY</span> +</div> + +<p>I think the reason why a small proportion of people +are disappointed in Cornwall is that the advertisements +are focussed on one aspect only. In almost +every one of them is the mildness of the climate +insisted on, and this gives rise to semi-invalidish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a><br /><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +ideas. It is true that semi-invalids who go there +in winter in search of warmth can find suitable +places if they know where to go. Cornwall as a +whole must have an equable climate, or we should +not see the growth of exotic plants out of doors—myrtle, +tree-geranium, aloes, palms, and camellias, +to name only a few of the most abundant—but the +whole county is by no means a hot-bed of warmth, +and the winds are frequently very cold indeed. +There are everywhere now first-class hotels, with +the ample lounges which have superseded the +shut-up drawing-room and smoking-room compartments +of earlier days, and these hotels mostly have +verandahs so placed that the glorious sun can flood +them while the winds are kept at bay. There those +who come to recuperate can bask in delight, and +draw straight from the Atlantic the pure fresh air, +which has a wonderfully tonic effect.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The lungs with the living gas grow tight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the limbs feel the strength of ten.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> +<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God's glorious oxygen."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Two such verandahs come up before me as I write—that +at Fowey, raised high, and overlooking the +most lovely harbour along the whole coast, shut in +by rising banks almost like a Norwegian fiord;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +the other, the verandah at Housel Bay Hotel, +where, facing due south, you may sit in an atmosphere +of summer which is indeed like a climate +usually only to be looked for many degrees further +south.</p> + +<p>But though this aspect is the keynote of almost +every advertisement, or at any rate every winter +advertisement, it is by no means the most prominent +or characteristic one of Cornwall, which +appeals far more to the hardy than the weak. +When I think of Cornwall the vision that comes +before me is not that of sheltered sun-bathed +balconies, but rather of a high wind making the +breakers frill around the jagged bases of the cliffs, +while above, amid the towans or sandhills covered +with bent grass, the golf-balls fly. The tang of the +air seems once again in my nostrils, carrying with +it an exhilaration that makes the blood race in the +veins and entirely prevents tiredness. Only in one +place elsewhere have I felt that exact stimulus, and +that was far west in the neighbouring land of +Brittany, near the Point du Raz, which stretches +razor-like into the ocean, and in many respects +strikingly resembles a bit of the Cornish coast. +Many people will object that this is exactly what +they understand Cornwall does not offer; on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +contrary they have heard apologies for its stuffiness +and the relaxing qualities of the air. Why yes, +if one visits it in the height of summer, and goes to +one of the many places situated in a hole or funnel +and facing south, it might be very relaxing indeed; +but the "advertisements for invalids," if one may +so call them, usually refer to early spring and it is +in early spring that the invigorating breezes may +be found almost anywhere the whole way round, +while the northern coasts are never stuffy even in +summer.</p> + +<p>Besides unusual golf facilities another feature +appealing to the hardy and sound are the cliff +paths, mere coastguard tracks, unfenced and unspoilt, +which circle the whole coast. Those who +keep to roads will never see the real Cornwall and +that is why so many motor-bound souls miss it. +One may wander for days on these cliff paths, +lured on from point to point and bay to bay, +always rejoicing in something new or glorious, +something which beckons onward. At the foot +of the vertical walls of rock are tiny sandy bays +for ever cut off from the foot of man even at low +tide, and inaccessible to all save the sea-birds, who +well know it! My mind brings back visions of +great pieces of rock, torn and ripped from their +hold, and apparently flung pell-mell on the beach. +Except that they are usually three-cornered and +not columnar, they are somewhat like the drongs +of Shetland in their piercing sharpness. Remarkably +fine specimens of these isolated rocks are seen +at Kynance Cove, near the Lizard, and at Bedruthan +Steps, in Watergate Bay; but almost everywhere +some stand up aloof from the neighbouring cliff.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_027.jpg" width="600" height="447" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">KYNANCE COVE</span> +</div> + +<p>Whoever loves the wild desolation of the northernmost +Scottish coasts will feel at home in Cornwall. +Of course the cliffs are not nearly so high—most +of the Cornish cliffs could go four times into the +finest specimens of Mull or Shetland—but there is +not much lost by this. The human mind can only +grasp up to a certain amount of size conveyed by +the eye in vertical measure, and after the first +awed glance down a 1,000-foot cliff, when the mind +is almost stunned, the impression rapidly wears off, +and all the grandeur needed is equally well conveyed +by 300 feet of sheer precipice, while the +details of the natural carving and the play of the +wild birds on its crevices are far better observed.</p> + +<p>The popular idea of Cornwall in the minds of +those who have not been there is that there runs +a long raised ridge down the middle like a spine, +and that from this on each side the ground slopes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a><br /><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +away to the sea; but this is a very misleading idea. +Cornwall is all hills, and yet has none to boast of. +Brown Willy, not far from Launceston, reaching +to 1,375 feet, is the highest, but yet there is very +little flat land anywhere. If you took a silk handkerchief, +crumpled it up in your hand, and threw +it on the table, it might fall somewhat as Cornwall +is constituted. The people who live there are used +to hills and not afraid of them. Why should they +be? In most of the towns—and almost every +small village is a "church-town," while every stream +is a river—the streets are often at about the angle +of an ordinary house-roof, and as a rule there are +miles of hill to be negotiated in rising out of the +towns for they lie in hollows or crevices, corresponding +to the folds of the handkerchief. This +is not wonderful considering the fact that the wind +blows freely from the sea on both sides, and that +it is in the hollows and sheltered nooks that vegetation +flourishes. There are of course exceptions. +Take such a town as Launceston. One main street +has been engineered to go round in curves, so as to +enable horses—horses bred to the work—to get up +it, and at the top there is a bit of level, but most +of the other streets fall sheer down. When babes +who can scarce toddle scramble forth from their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +living-room on to a road slanting at an angle of +forty-five degrees or more, which forms their only +playground, naturally their leg muscles get strengthened, +and as they grow up and have to start off to +school, or return from it, up a hill that taxes the +sinews of a "foreigner" till he groans, they make +nothing of it. Roads seem to wander at their own +sweet will with no inclination to the Roman ideal, +but they never wander to avoid inclines; they tilt +up and down again with the most gracious equanimity, +and a man on a cycle who has struggled +up a steep ascent and feels at last he will be able +to reap the reward, as often as not finds the descent +too perilous to ride without the utmost caution. +Cornwall is not a county for cyclists except they +be strong in the leg; but it is good country for +those pedestrians who measure the day's journey +by what they have seen and not by ground got +over as the crow flies, for they can follow the +enchanting little paths winding in and out by the +great headlands of the coast.</p> + +<p>Cornwall is no place for being in a hurry.</p> + +<p>Many of the most famous sights, such as the +great outlying cliffs at Gurnard's Head, and the +Logan Rock, are not anywhere near a road. The +roads keep inland, and for very good reason. These<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +places have to be reached over long, sloping fields, +and entail a good deal of scrambling—ideal places +to resort to for a whole day with picnic provision, +so long as one has a clear head and steady foot, but +not to be sought as a "side-show."</p> + +<p>Very many of the little coast places too are +down at the end of what may be called long shafts, +and to the ardent cyclist, intent on mileage, to go +down, down, down, for miles till he can see the +cows grazing in the fields high overhead, and to +arrive at last at a little port where a few old salts +sit and smoke and idle, and there is no way of +getting out again but by the funnel, is a matter +for as strong comment as conscience permits. Yet +again for those who love what is beautiful and unhackneyed, +there is charm beyond measure in the +spirit of these places. In Polperro, which might be +a bit of Brittany planted wholesale in our land; or +Fowey, with its unforgettable harbour, where the +blue tide creeps up like a stain of spreading dye; +or in Mullion, with its huge rounded masses of +rock lying off the coast.</p> + +<p>Another popular idea of Cornwall, also mistaken, +is that the interior of the Duchy is hideous and +only the coast beautiful. There is much that is +ugly no doubt; raw places where the half-grown +mounds of rubbish and crumbling chimneys mark +disused tin-mines; where the sharp and hard outlines +of slate shriek at you everywhere; where +ragged, scrubby fences break up an endless series +of barren-looking fields, and the whole landscape +gives the impression that it is flying at a terrific +speed westward, heading into the prevailing wind, +because all the trees and shrubs that have managed +to survive it at all are bent nearly double. But +what of the glorious wooded slopes in Bodmin +neighbourhood where smooth roads wind between +the rich growth of woods? What of the famous +valleys such as Luxulyan and others? There is +plenty inland attractive enough if one knows where +to look for it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 490px;"> +<img src="images/i_034.jpg" width="490" height="600" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">AT POLPERRO</span> +</div> + +<p>Perhaps this impression as to the interior has +grown because the painting fraternity, now a recognized +part of Cornish society, mostly paint views +on or near the coast, having settled chiefly at and +near Newlyn and St. Ives. Mr. Lewis Hind, in +his book on Cornwall, says: "Probably two hundred +canvases are despatched each year from the Delectable +Duchy to Burlington House and elsewhere; +of this number seven-eighths have been painted in +Newlyn or St. Ives.... The great centres are +Newlyn, St. Ives, and Falmouth, and the votes of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a><br /><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +the Cornish contingent, it is said, can turn the +scale in an election at the Royal Academy."</p> + +<p>The truth is, Cornwall must be taken in bits, +and often the most hideous lie close up alongside +the most attractive; however they only help to +intensify that which is very good. People who +look too cursorily are the most often disappointed.</p> + +<p>Wandering about Cornwall certainly induces one +ache, and that is the ache to be more knowledgeable. +Those lucky creatures who know something +of botany and geology here have delights not unfolded +to others. Cornwall is a paradise for the +botanist and geologist, because for the former there +are rare species and some altogether unknown elsewhere, +such as the <i>Erica vagans</i> so often mentioned, +which grows in the neighbourhood of the Lizard. +In fact Cornwall possesses more specialities in +plant-life than any other county in England. +For the latter because even the amateur can see the +wonder and difference of the rocks: the pink tinged +granite of Land's End, the great granite tors inland +on the moors, and the variegated serpentine at the +Lizard, as well as the cruel, sharp-edged slate of +the northern coast. While as for the archæologist +is there any part of Britain that affords him such +endless material? A mere enumeration of the +ancient stone crosses, the standing stone circles, +the cromlechs, the British huts, the earthworks, +the cliff-castles, the hill-castles or camps, the stone +graves, the chambered cumuli, the barrows, and +other relics of a long-past age, would fill pages. +The moors are covered with them and the bare +heights above Land's End are a rich hunting-ground.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_039.jpg" width="600" height="447" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">THE COAST NEAR THE LIZARD</span> +</div> + +<p>This evidence of the lives and habits of the very +ancient inhabitants adds much depth and flavour +to the "atmosphere," and especially when it is +remembered that the original Cornish are the +purest example of that old race—the British. Mr. +W. H. Hudson, in his book <i>The Land's End</i>, +quotes Lord Courtney's saying: "The population +of Cornwall in general has remained much more +homogeneous, much more Celtic in type, than in +other parts; and of all Cornwall there is no part +like this [Penzance and Land's End district] in +which we meet with probably so pure a breed of +human beings."</p> + +<p>The nation now calling itself British has Saxon, +Teutonic, French, and Norse blood in its veins, as +well as that of the original stock; but when the +successive waves of invaders swept over the country,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a><br /><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +they usually exhausted themselves before reaching +this remote corner, into which the oldest island +stock was swept up.</p> + +<p>This probably accounts for the queer impression +one often gets in Cornwall of being abroad. It +comes suddenly, rising like one of the Cornish +mists and enveloping one, until suddenly the conviction +that one is across the sea, far from home, +flows almost overwhelmingly over the mind. There +is much more likeness and kinship between parts of +Cornwall and parts of Brittany than between Cornwall +and most of the rest of England. There is no +doubt that Cornwall differeth not as "one county +from another county," but as one county from all +the rest. Here, where the British race had its last +stronghold, the stamp of the national characteristics +was retained in its effects much longer than elsewhere. +Nowadays of course there is intermarrying +and travelling, and frequent streams of new +blood coming in—half the people you speak to are +not Cornish at all—but still there is something +remaining which stamps them as a whole. It has +often been noticed that there are traces of Spanish +blood to be found in the dwellers in the extreme +west where many of the great Spanish galleons +were wrecked in bygone days; just as there are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +found brown faces and black hair in the Fair Isle +of the Shetlands, where half the population intermarried +with some Spaniards of the great Armada +wrecked on their coast. In this part of Cornwall +one constantly sees women with clear-skinned faces, +dark-brown eyes and hair, of a distinctly foreign +type. The people, with their rather remote and +surface friendliness, have often been described. +They will greet you pleasantly and courteously—courteous +manners have lingered here—small boys, +and men too, still salute a stranger in passing with +a greeting, and if one asks the way the answer will +be no abrupt direction, but a careful and minute +description repeated until clearly understood. Even +in Wilkie Collins's time the people were noticeable +for their courtesy. He says: "The manners of the +Cornish of all ranks, down to the lowest, are remarkably +distinguished by courtesy—a courtesy of +that kind which is quite independent of artificial +breeding, and which proceeds solely from natural +motives of kindness and from an innate anxiety to +please. Few of the people pass you without a +salutation."</p> + +<p>As it was then so it is now.</p> + +<p>Yet everywhere one feels a want; there is a +lack of something. Perhaps it is they are too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +matter-of-fact; a passing jest leaves them puzzled. +There is none of the dry humour of the Scot, which +makes every man you meet on the road in Scotland +instinctively approach a remark from what may be +called the humorous angle. As an example of the +Cornish lack of this quality, when I remarked to +a man who was showing me a real fine golf-links +stretching over the sandy towans of bent-grass, +"these sandhills are simply made for golf," he +answered: "Oh no, they were not made for the +links; they were here long before!"</p> + +<p>The people simply don't understand analogy or +imagery; their minds are very literal. In this part +of the world they may well be literal, for the hard +necessity of making a livelihood from very poor +material must crush out fun. Yet in spite of +many hardships endured, it is a rare thing to see +a pale or miserable-looking child. The children +are round and rosy, with sturdy legs, as indeed +they may well have for they need them. This +general well-being cannot be altogether attributed +to the pure air, because in the Shetlands and on +the West Coast of Scotland where the air is just +as pure the children are usually brown and thin. +It may be that this is due to the lack of milk, the +heaths of Scotland affording scant pasturage, while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +the constant moisture of the air in Cornwall makes +the grass grow richly.</p> + +<p>At midday you will see the bairns running along +the street munching great pasties—a Cornish +specialty—made with bits of meat and onion and +potato in a cover of paste, and the pasty seems +to be the school-child's usual dinner. Another +specialty of Cornwall are the yellow saffron cakes, +so unappetizing in appearance to those unused to +them. Of the cream there is hardly need to speak. +As one ardent admirer of the Duchy remarked: +"Of course, Devonshire cream <i>is</i> Cornish cream, +only they've managed to get all the credit for it." +In spite of this testimony it seems to me there is +a difference, the Cornish variety is at once more +fluid and more lumpy, but this may be an erroneous +opinion based on insufficient experience.</p> + +<p>Of history Cornwall has little. The brightest +jewel in her coronet is that she stood unfailingly +for the Stuarts in the Civil Wars, and many a +church holds a letter of thanks from King Charles I. +Except for the struggles of that epoch, the Duchy +has little to tell of what may be called historical +times, but before them much. It is in the +misty ages before the Norman Conquest that +history was made in Cornwall, and every now and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +then we catch fleeting glimpses of scenes standing +out bright and clear amid a general fog, just as we +can to-day catch the vivid pictures of the landscape +before the grey mists sweep down with +incredible speed and blot them out. We see +Athelstan's terrible fight with the Britons; his +establishment of the collegiate church at St. Buryan +in pursuance of his vow, when he returned victorious +from the Scilly Isles. We get brilliant +peeps in the legends of King Arthur; in the +mysterious beehive huts and stone circles of a +people who have vanished; in the whimsical tales +of the early saints who scattered themselves so +freely over the land on their arrival from Ireland; +and we find hieroglyphic messages we cannot read +in structures we call cromlechs and in the cliff-castles.</p> + +<p>Small wonder that Cornwall is a land of legend +and story, and that tales of fabulous men and +wonder-working men abound. In our very earliest +nursery days, long before we could point to +Cornwall on the map, we learned to repeat:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I smell the blood of a Cornishman.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let him be alive or let him be dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll grind his bones to make me bread."<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>And if modern nurseries substitute "Englishman" +for "Cornishman," that is distinctly their loss. +The coast with its mighty fragments and giant +"chairs" and enormous blocks of stone is quite +obviously the home of giants.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + +<p class="center">THE GATEWAY OF THE DUCHY</p> + + +<p>The gateway to the Duchy is impressive—that is +to say, the gateway by which far the largest proportion +of visitors enter—the railway bridge of the +Great Western at Saltash. This marvellous bridge +of Brunel's has been often described; it does not +impress by its beauty for it has none, but by its +tremendous height and length. It is 2,240 feet +from end to end, and rises 260 feet above the +water. It cuts across the narrowest part of that +great ganglion of waters which break up the +land behind Plymouth Sound. On the north lie +the broad inlets of the Rivers Tamar and Tavy, +and to the south that of the St. Germans or Lynher +River curves away, and all along it the line runs, +crossing the broad inlets of mud at low tide and +shining water at high tide, giving a glimpse of the +famous Hamoaze at Devonport and the busy dockyards +filled with the clang of driven rivets.</p> + +<p>In the Hamoaze lies the <i>Powerful</i>, an establishment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +consisting of three ships for the training of +boys, and also the <i>Impregnable</i>, used for the same +purpose, with two ships attached; one of them has +a fine figure-head of the Black Prince. These +are close to the ferry to Mount Edgcumbe, the +family seat of the Earl of that name. The lads +have drillgrounds and playgrounds ashore, but live +on board. When they all swarm about the decks +and rigging in their white suits, to rest in the sun +for a brief half-hour after the midday meal, it is as +if a flock of sea-birds had alighted on the picturesque +old hulk.</p> + +<p>In old times the destroyers used to be moored, +two by two, when in port, just below Saltash +Bridge, and this place was called the "destroyer +trot," but the war has changed all that. Above +the bridge are two powder-hulks.</p> + +<p>If we passed up the river in a small boat we +should see a variety of bird-life. The most attractive +are the cranes, measuring upwards of 5 feet in +length, ash-coloured with blackish wings and black +legs. They stand and fish on the margin of the +river, especially at evening time, planted close +together like sentinels up to their knees in the +water. They rise most gracefully and their great +wings move slowly in measured action. The gulls<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +and rooks are jealous of them, possibly seeing in +this measured movement some imagined superiority, +for they occasionally buffet them as they fly. There +is a current saying accounting for the erratic allotment +of days in the spring quarter. It is said that +March borrowed a few days of February to catch +the crane on her nest, but he only caught her tail, +and so the crane has no tail since then! Milton +speaks of the migration of the cranes when he +says:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Part loosely wing the region; part, more wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In common, ranged in figure, wedge their way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Intelligent of seasons; and set forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their airy caravan; high over seas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flying, and over lands with mutual wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Easing their flight; so steers the prudent crane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her annual voyage, borne on winds, the air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Floats as they pass, fanned with unnumbered plumes."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The most common birds up these tidal rivers are +the sheldrake. They are plentiful and very tame +as they sit dozing away the hours in little parties +on the tide edge, or flighting over the water with +low musical quacks. They are extremely white +when on the wing—in fact that is how one always +thinks of them, white and orange. The orange +flash is their bill, which is brightened in the springtime.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +They give poor sport for a gun, and don't +seem to be of much use. They were the wildest +of all wild fowl but have now taken on the tamest +ways.</p> + +<p>And all the time in spring you can hear the wild +musical note of the curlew, and see the dun-coloured +birds flitting against the green of the woods. They +are shy and wary, and common along the shores +on the sands which are exposed at low water. +Ringed plovers can sometimes be seen running +on the wet surface of the sands at the tide's edge, +flocks of lapwings too. Teal is by no means infrequent +up the rivers, and an occasional shag +(cormorant) may be noticed swimming far up +towards Saltash and fishing. In its spring dress, +with its horn-like crest, and miserable-looking +yellow face, and its lustrous dark-green plumage, +the shag is a handsome bird. Mallard is fairly +plentiful in the rivers, and you may see flocks +sleeping away the day-hours on the flats, and +recognize them by the longitudinally marked +plumage of the drakes. Sometimes they fly back +and forth as gulls do while they wait for the tide +to ebb. Small birds there are, of course, in numbers, +such as wag-tails, sandpipers, and the oddly crying +and flying redshank, a shore bird. It wheels above<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +the tide-line, or rests, bowing quaintly, on some +grassy hummock near a pool.</p> + +<p>But these things can only be studied in leisured +intimacy from a slow-going boat passing in the +spring-time, when the blackthorn frosts the hedges +and starry-eyed primroses grow to monstrous size. +The train which flashes us across the bridge reveals +none of them!</p> + +<p>In the first glimpse of our first Cornish "town" +we catch sight of a steep winding street, which +serves as full introduction, for in many a Cornish +town shall we see the same again! And then, even +as the train runs in the cuttings of Cornish soil, we +realize almost at once the key-note of Cornwall—the +extraordinary richness of growth. Ivy bursts +over every wall in a perfect cataract; ferns and +small wild things fill every crevice with their +grasping roots, and even in winter there is no +thinness or barrenness to be felt for evergreens +flourish amazingly. The wooded reaches of the +hills dispel the idea that Cornwall is everywhere +a treeless land, and the constant dampness of its +climate is shown by the lichen which clings to +every branch and twig like hoar-frost, so that in +winter the whole mass has a curious shot-green-and-brown +effect.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_054.jpg" width="600" height="459" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">OLD BRIDGE AT LOSTWITHIEL</span> +</div> + +<p>The West Cornwall Railway, reaching as far +as Truro, was opened in 1852, and the Cornwall +Railway in 1859. Both of these were afterwards +absorbed by the Great Western Railway.</p> + +<p>One of the most beautiful parts of the whole +line is that between Liskeard and Bodmin Road. +The woods run riot on the ever varying slopes, and +the evergreens are so fine, with their abundance of +clean, glossy leaves, that even the ordinary country +roads have something of the appearance of a carefully +tended private drive.</p> + +<p>The Cornish valleys are especially treasured by +the people and much admired, because they present +such a striking contrast to the high bleak uplands. +That it is only the wind which prevents the growth +of trees may be judged from these valleys, where +they flourish finely. Take Luxulyan Valley, running +down to St. Blazey, a place where hundreds +come for picnics. Even in any part of England it +would be admired; here its charm is enhanced by +its surroundings. There are plenty of trees of a +fair size, and the sides of the valley are covered +with bracken and furze, from which peep out great +grey rocks. Primroses and violets abound in the +spring, and the mossy boulders and the extensive +variety of ferns show a flourishing vegetation almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a><br /><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +like that of a fern-house under glass. There is +something also about the grey lichened rocks bursting +out of the waist-deep furze and bracken that +serves to emphasize the fulness of growth. The +only drawback about Luxulyan is that it lies in the +china-clay country, and the stream which runs +down to ugly St. Blazey is white as milk. This +china-clay is one of Cornwall's most living industries +now that the tin-mining has declined, and the +pilchards come so scantily. It is the product of +decomposed granite owing to the action of fluoric +acid. The works where it may be seen at its best +are near Roche, on the little line between Newquay +and Fowey, and here the piles of white earth might +be mistaken for flour or whitening by those who +did not know what they were. The clay is sent +down by rail to Fowey, and the greater number of +the steamers putting into that harbour are engaged +in carrying it away. At Roche is an extraordinary +rock starting sheer up from the plain. On +the top was formerly a cell or hermitage, of which +Norden says quaintly, "It standeth upon the wilde +moares farr from comon societie."</p> + +<p>There are innumerable "singing valleys" in +Cornwall, though mostly small. I call them so +because of the congregation of singing-birds here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +crowded together for lack of nesting-places, instead +of being spread thinly over the district. As can +easily be understood, there is no difficulty in nesting +for the larks, who make joyous the wide uplands, +or for the sea-birds who haunt the rugged coast, +and only come inland at times of storm, or to +follow in a white, restless cloud close at the heels +of the ploughman as he turns up the sod and +exposes the fat white slugs and delicious grubs. +Nor is there any difficulty for the smaller hedge-birds, +least of all the wrens, who, like red-brown +butterflies, flit in perfect safety to the roomy depths +of the age-old "hedges." These hedges in Cornwall +are, particularly in the west, but a core of +hard stone piled loosely together and covered with +mud or sod and the growth of many generations of +plant-life, and knitted by creeping plants till they +stand broad-based and immovable like ramparts, +and are used as paths by the inhabitants, who pass +quickly and safely from one swampy field to another +along their turfy tops. Indeed in flooded winter-time +it is often the only possible path, and when +the main road lay deep in water I have been reduced +to dragging my bicycle on to the summit of +a "hedge" and wheeling it precariously along. +Such places are paradises for Jenny Wren, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +springs into the maze of twisted stalks and heavy +leaves, and hops about the spacious corridors in the +perpetual twilight, perfectly secure from intrusion. +Smaller birds too can make shift with the windblown +specimens of shrubs that sometimes adorn +such hedges, but the great majority prefer something +of larger size and so gather wherever trees make +an oasis.</p> + +<p>One such "singing valley" is Landewednack, near +the Lizard, called locally Church Cove, one of the +sweetest of the Cornish chines. The little church +is charming architecturally with its weathered +pinnacles crowning the grey stone tower. The +small-leaved Cornish elms cluster round the graveyard, +and show through their warped and twisted +stems glimpses of the infinite blue sea, giving an +idea of boundless expansion, and adding to the +snugness of the shut-in valley. The emerald-green +moss clings thickly to the westward or windward +side of the crusted trunks, and at their foot what a +riot of vegetation! The sound of running water +and the brilliant green of the grass, as well as the +masses of long hart's-tongue ferns falling abundantly +from the churchyard wall, all tell of perpetual +moisture. Passing beyond the church, we +come to a few thatched cottages placed anglewise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +to the steeply falling road, and near them see an +immense hedge of veronica covered with big, furry, +heliotrope-coloured blossoms, affording shelter to the +straggling blue periwinkles below. Every niche and +crevice of the wall shows small, green, flat leaves +crawling out to the sun and light. Only a short +way below, the cove comes to an abrupt end, and +there is a steep drop made smooth for the boats, +which have to be hauled up by pulleys, while the +sea below for ever beats on the huge black stones. +The marvel is how the boats are ever got up and +down such a place, and that marvel confronts one +everywhere in Cornwall. This cove is typical of +hundreds,—vegetation down almost to the water's +edge, a haunt of singing-birds, a tiny steep cove +very inconvenient and dangerous for landing, and +mighty cliffs rising at each side.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + +<p class="center">THE "TOE" OF CORNWALL</p> + + +<p>Penzance is strongly reminiscent of the Channel +Isles to those who know both. There is the same +odd mixture of sternness in the bare outlines of the +stone houses—as bare as those on the Cumbrian +Fells—and the unexpected luxuriance of growth, +the flourishing tree-shrubs such as hydrangeas and +fuchsias, in backyards and odd corners. When +one gets a vista down the Morab Gardens in the +midst of the town, with the steep green depths +framed by the bushy-topped palms falling away to +the brilliant blue sea, one might almost be having +a peep in the Riviera, if we accept the lack of +orange-trees, with their golden lamps, so beautiful +to the sight, so disappointing to the taste! It is +surprising to those coming from harsher parts of +England to see the deprecating droop of the blue-grey +tongues of the eucalyptus, the feathery grace +of clumps of bamboo, and the glossy-leaved bushes +of camellia. At any rate, whatever one compares +the place with, one is conscious of an odd surprise +at its un-English characteristics.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_063.jpg" width="600" height="463" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">ST. MICHAEL'S MOUNT</span> +</div> + +<p>The "front" is not the great attraction at +Penzance. No doubt the wonderful bay, with its +priceless jewel of St. Michael's Mount, does at all +times satisfy the imagination; but the flat esplanade, +the singularly ineffective strip for sea-bathing, +and the rather dull style in which most of the +houses are built, are not in themselves attractive. +The bay can be seen better elsewhere, from the +heights of the very ample churchyard of St. Mary's +for instance, overlooking the grey slate roofs, or +from Newlyn Hill, when at sunset time all the +colours of the spectrum may be reflected on the +Mount, and the only thing one can say with perfect +certainty is that it is never twice exactly alike. +One of the most lovely visions is when the sun +catches it through a rift in sombre clouds, bathing +it in a kind of unearthly radiance or dawning light, +while Penzance, with its tall-pinnacled church +tower, is all mouse-grey. And when a rainbow +arches over one side of the steep slope, as I have +seen it, it is almost unearthly.</p> + +<p>Sometimes the Mount disappears entirely, melting +into its background, or only the castle is left +visible, apparently unsupported except by a filmy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a><br /><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +mist. There is no end to the vagaries played by +the lights and shadows and sea-colours on this +wonderful instrument. Indeed the Mount is +chiefly valuable for this reason, because, owing +to the fact that it is private property, and that +access to it is much restricted, it is not nearly +so much an object of intrinsic interest as its grand +counterpart in Brittany.</p> + +<p>It must be a strange place to live on. When the +St. Levan family arrive they have to go over by +launch from Penzance, probably after a long journey +by rail; and the weather, if tempestuous, must +make even such a short crossing unpleasant. Once +there, there is the stupendous steep to climb—no +trifle, even though the roads are graded. Dining +out with county neighbours must be an almost +impossible feat, and grand as the surroundings are, +they must pall very soon because of their limitations. +Tradition says that the men-folk of the +family are not supposed to be able to swim properly +until they can swim all round the Mount, a fine +undertaking in view of the rocks and shoals!</p> + +<p>The Mount in Brittany is only 57 feet higher, +but looks much larger, which is curious, as it +stands considerably farther out to sea, being 1¼ miles +away; the Cornish one is only about 1,200 feet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +from the mainland. Perhaps the reason is the +greater variety and grandeur of the buildings on +St. Michel.</p> + +<p>The old name of Marazion was Market-jew, +and the two together certainly make most people +imagine there is some Israelitish association; but +this is unfounded. Marazion is "the market by +the seaside," and Market-jew "the market on the +side of the hill." Some have supposed the Mount +to have been the Ictis of the ancient tin trade, +where the merchants from far met the inhabitants +to barter for tin. "When they have cast it [the +tin] into the form of cubes, they carry it to a +certain island adjoining Britain called Ictis. During +the recess of the tide the intervening space is left +dry, and they carry over abundance of tin in +carts" (Diodorus Siculus). Many other islands +have been suggested to fit this account, even the +Isle of Wight; but the bed of the sea must have +changed very quickly if people could in historic +times pass over to it on foot at low tide!</p> + +<p>The legend of the fair land of Lyonnesse is +supported by the evidence of a submarine forest in +Mount's Bay, noted by Borlase in 1757. This seems +to have been a wood chiefly of hazel, but with +alders, oaks, and other trees, and is by no means<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +the only case of a submerged forest being found +around the shores of Cornwall. Great trunks have +been disclosed, and even hazel-nuts and twigs; but +it is a big step from the subsidence of some +parts of the shore and the consequent submergence +of forest land, to the story of the overwhelming +of such a land as Lyonnesse, reaching out as +far as Scilly and containing many villages and +churches.</p> + +<p>To return to Penzance. The town is very +irregular, its meandering streets meet at all angles, +and here and there are linked by narrow, passage-like +cross-cuts, ofttimes as steep as wynds. There +is a very noticeable prevalence of Nonconformist +places of worship, and these show, as most of their +kind do, a hideous lack of architectural beauty, +a sort of defiance of the pride of the eye. The +Cornishmen since Wesley's crusade have been +strongly Nonconformist, notwithstanding the fact +that Wesley himself was a son of the Church. +They probably find the rigidity of the Established +Church too formal for their fervent souls. Nonconformity +appeals to them as it does to their cousins +the Welsh, and it is a curious thing that St. Mary's, +the most ancient of the churches, should be the +opposite of this, with ritualistic services, whence the +smell of incense is wafted into the uncompromising +streets.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_070.jpg" width="600" height="450" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">NEWLYN</span> +</div> + +<p>The greatest son of Penzance is Sir Humphry +Davy, who was born here in 1778. He belonged +to an old Cornish family. His statue stands at the +head of the sloping Market-jew Street.</p> + +<p>Though Penzance has not in itself anything very +remarkable to show in the way of beauty, it is +certainly a good centre for excursions, being at the +very joint of the swollen and deformed "toe" of +the county. Roads start from it in all directions +over this much-sought peninsula, and it would be +easy to spend not one, but many weeks hunting +out all the quaint and interesting things, both +natural and artificial, to be seen within reasonable +distance.</p> + +<p>Newlyn, home of the painting colony known all +the world over, is close to Penzance, and straggles +up the side of a terrific hill. Rows of stereotyped +villas in terraces now overlook the bay, and are +eagerly taken as they are built. But round the +harbour linger still the odours of the typical old +fishing village, and there are few sights more suggestive +to the imagination than the scattering of the +red-sailed fishing-boats as one by one they pass +at evening time out between the narrow horns<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a><br /><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +of the harbour to their rough, wet nights of toil in +the clammy sea air. Newlyn is famous for its +apple-blossom, and the vision of the bay between +masses of apple-blossom in springtime is one never +to be forgotten. Newlyn itself is easily accessible +compared with Mousehole, right round the corner, +tucked away under the cliff. Here a name for +once is thoroughly suitable, for the little place +is hemmed in by the towering hills, and the +principal ways on foot out of it are by tiny overgrown +lanes, so narrow that two people can hardly +pass, so steep that in places they are veritable staircases, +with rotten wooden steps, or those made from +hollowed mud worn by many feet. Yet whether +the name really does mean what it appears to, or +is only a corruption of some other word with a +totally different significance, is not known. R. Edmonds +(<i>Land's End District</i>) suggests "Mozhel" +or "Mouzhel," meaning maids' brook or river, as +a stream used for washing by the women runs +through the town.</p> + +<p>The constant steep places in Cornwall are a great +puzzle to many people who come with an idea that +the Duchy is neatly and evenly sloped, rising in the +middle and falling down to the sea on each side. +As has been explained, this is very far from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +truth. A pilgrimage round the county is like +climbing a succession of ridges. The steeps are so +steep that they demand real physical effort, and +even the drops put a strain on unaccustomed leg-muscles. +Newlyn Hill taxes the strength of those +coming from normally level districts. It is to +be hoped that only horses born and bred in Cornwall +are used for the charabancs and other public +vehicles; it would be sheer cruelty to bring horses +from flat-lands here.</p> + +<p>If we scrambled along the coast beyond Mousehole +we should come to Lamorna Cove, a deep +indentation filled with scrub-bush and small trees. +Wherever it is possible trees grow in Cornwall; +they take advantage of every atom of shelter, and +every cleft in the ground out of the raging wind is +filled with them.</p> + +<p>The soil is wonderfully fertile, and the constant +wet—not even its most ardent admirer denies that +Cornwall gets rather more than its share of rain—develops +a prodigal amount of growth in the way +of ferns and creepers and other plants that like +warm moisture. At Lamorna is a colony of artists; +they have settled here as an outpost from Newlyn, +for the natural beauty and remoteness of the place +suit them. They have their picturesque houses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +within friendly reach all up and down the little +glen, and take pride in their gardens, with wonderful +rockeries and babbling streams, and all the rich +growth that the soil and climate bring forth. They +drop in on one another at all hours, and know all +about each other's concerns. They are a friendly, +kindly, generous-hearted clan. Here, where the +woods are white with hawthorn in the spring, the +stream gushes down in endless waterfalls, and the +waves burst and break on the rocks in the cove +below, every one of them can find endless scenes +for his or her brush.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Alfred Sidgwick's book, <i>In Other Days</i>, +gives a picture of Lamorna Valley in the guise of +fiction: "It was a brilliant March day, warm in the +sun, cold in the wind. The gorse and the blackthorn +were both out, spreading the wild copse and +common of the valley with a shimmer of white and +gold. The old bracken still lay in patches of ruddy +brown, primroses were just beginning shyly, and +the short grass of the open places had not put on +its summer hues yet. The sky was clear and deep, +with little white clouds scudding across it; larks +were singing, and in the distance sounds of men at +work in the fields were heard. The air was scented +with herbs and fresh from the sea, but sheltered by +the lie of the low hills, and by old, long-neglected +trees. In some places the trees were of a great +height and girth, making a gloom over the huge +moss-grown granite rocks strewing the earth and +edging the little stream.... A small swamp full +of peppermint scented the air."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_077.jpg" width="600" height="441" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">LAMORNA COVE</span> +</div> + +<p>That is the work of a close observer.</p> + +<p>In this neighbourhood there are many of those +curious relics of bygone times, which are bestrewn +about Cornwall more thickly than any other part +of England. The Fougou Hole in one of the +gardens is a weird place, and its meaning and use +is even yet little understood. It is a tiny, damp +vault, made of great, unhewn stones, and reached +by a hole in the ground. Here it is said harried +cavaliers took shelter in the Civil Wars, but the +Hole is much older than that; it dates back to those +strange times beyond the dawn of history of which +we only get vague glimpses.</p> + +<p>In the fields above, gaunt stones rise like pointing +fingers to the sky. These are called "The Pipers," +and mark the scene of Athelstan's defeat of the +British in 936; it is the "place of blood." But if +they were really erected by Athelstan in the tenth +century, and are not, as is possible, relics of Druid +worship, they are modern compared with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a><br /><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +Fougou Hole. Not far from them, in the midst of +a grass-field, are the "Merry Maidens," a circle of +grey stones about 24 yards in diameter; there are +nineteen of them altogether, none quite the height +of a man, and some much smaller. They convey +an impression of immovable solemnity, as such +age-old things always do, for they are planted so +securely, and look so indomitable with their grey, +lichen-covered sides four-square to the winds. +Local tradition tells how the Merry Maidens were +caught dancing on the Sabbath to the music of the +pipers, and turned to stone, but history is silent as +to their origin. There is indeed all over Cornwall +many a reminder of the ancient world now lost to +all record. In various other places are to be found +other circles of Merry Maidens just as much of a +problem as these, but none so perfect or so impressive.</p> + +<p>The long, narrow, rectangular tower of St. +Buryan, crowned with pinnacles, dominates all the +landscape; exactly of this pattern are most of the +Cornish church towers. They are generally as +much alike as if they had been turned out of a +mould. This is one of the most interesting of the +many interesting churches in Cornwall. After +Athelstan's triumphant victory near Lamorna, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +vowed he would establish here a large religious +foundation if he were successful in his further +expedition to the Scilly Isles; and when he +returned a conqueror he carried out his vow. This +was about 930. Of course, there is nothing remaining +of that church, but the present building contains +much grotesque carving of the fourteenth and +fifteenth centuries, and the greater part of the +building must have stood from the fifteenth or +sixteenth. There is a peacefulness about the ancient +church, set in the long, billowing fields bordered by +rugged hedges, gorse and ivy-grown, that appeals +peculiarly to some natures. It is all very quiet.</p> + +<p>Down on the shore, not many miles away, is a +great pile of splintered rocks jutting out into the +sea, to be reached by a narrow neck. This is +Treryn Dinas or Castle, where is the famous Logan +stone. The striking thing about the rocks is that +so many take the form of cubes, some of the most +astounding being almost exactly the shape of the +ancient Egyptian obelisks. There are so many +shattered, square-edged lumps, resting on small +bases, that the difficulty to the stranger is to discover +the real Logan Rock, which brings hundreds +of visitors to the place in summer. This headland +has evidently been at one time a fortified cliff-castle,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +and in passing over to the peninsula visitors +cross the first line of defence or earthworks, though +few would notice it.</p> + +<p>From Penzance we might run out by any one of +the diverging roads across the peninsula, and be +sure of coming upon some relic of the most ancient +race inhabiting these islands.</p> + +<p>By way of Madron we should pass the Lanyon +Quoit or Cromlech, a great slab of rock 18 feet +long, supported on three other slabs which are just +a little too low to allow a man to stand upright +beneath it. In 1816 it fell or was blown down; +before this a mounted man could sit under it. +When Lieutenant Goldsmith in 1824 committed +the silly trick of upsetting the Logan Rock, and +was condemned by the Admiralty to rebalance it +at his own expense, the apparatus brought down to +the duchy for the purpose was also used to replace +the cap of the Cromlech, though why it should be +of less height now than before is not known.</p> + +<p>Amid the bleak hills around are to be found constant +remains of ancient British villages, rather in +the manner of the Picts' houses of Scotland. That +the strange people who lived in them thrashed corn +for food and kept cattle, there is plenty of evidence. +They lived in these little beehive huts, which were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +sometimes placed singly, sometimes two or three +together, often with an embankment round, or a +good cave near for retreat if necessary. The huts +are circular and built without cement or mortar. +Fragments of pottery have been found in and +around. Some of them are near Chun Castle, that +ancient earthwork, one of the half-dozen or so in +the "toe" of Cornwall. This district was the last +stronghold of the British race, who had retreated +before the Western invaders to the very extremity +of the land.</p> + +<p>By any one of these roads we should come at +last out on to the coast road—rather grandiloquently +called "The Atlantic Drive"—running +from Land's End to St. Ives. This has been +compared with the famous Corniche drives of the +Riviera. But beware! Don't expect too much, +or you will be terribly disappointed. Yet if you +go with an open mind, expecting nothing, you will +see something of very real interest and carry away +new knowledge.</p> + +<p>The fields are in many places simply covered +with stones. How the corn finds room to grow is +a miracle. The constant winds try everything +growing very severely, and there is a look of bare +poverty about the land. It is often compared with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +Ireland, and called the Connemara of England; +but in some ways, especially in the amount of +stones, it is more like bits of Galloway. Stone is +employed for objects which elsewhere are usually +made of wood. The stiles are broad slabs of granite, +the gate-posts are granite blocks, and as we have +seen, the very "hedges" are stone. The name +Zennor suggests gauntness of a Puritan kind. The +whole of the great hill above Zennor is covered +with immense and, if one may use such an expression, +dignified stones. Away up among them +is another huge quoit or cromlech, probably marking +the burial-place of some chieftain long before +Arthur's date. It is a grand place for burial too, +austere and solemn, overlooking the ocean, and +with a limitless horizon. The man who was buried +here must have had imagination if he chose the +spot for himself beforehand. The tearing winds +shriek over the ragged furze and mighty stones, +and howl in the crevices of the monument above +him; the great black clouds roll in, and the +whole country is drowned in a blinding squall of +hail; the sky clears, patches of brilliant blue appear, +and the sun strikes down on the dripping stones, +while all the little rills and streams race down the +soaking ground and over the roads in the wayward<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +manner of Cornish streams; and still the old chieftain +sleeps on, lulled by all the music of Nature +in this wild outpost which England thrusts into +the sea.</p> + +<p>The road surface round here is tolerably good. +Much of it is granite, and the tiny crystals glitter +in the sun like diamonds, and quickly dry up after +the whirlwinds of rain that pitilessly descend in +winter time. The road winds along around the +desolate hills, keeping mostly rather far inland, and +it passes by acres of rough land covered with the +wayward gorse, where small, fox-red cows take an +interest in the stranger. In spring primroses grow +to enormous sizes, with leaves as large as those +of foxgloves; and the foxgloves in their turn decorate +the hedges, rearing their tall spikes of magenta-coloured +bells in profusion. Pigs abound, and +great grey sheep-dogs, of the Old English bobtail +breed, come shyly to make friends. And everywhere +in irrepressible masses is the furze, the quick-burning +fuel of the poor, a godsend here where +wood is so precious.</p> + +<p>Almost due west of Penzance is the mining +region, where until lately there was great activity, +now comparatively still. St. Just is the centre of +this district; but it is not what one would expect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +in a mining town. Right in the heart of it, where +now the children make their playground, is a great +amphitheatre, one of the best known and preserved +of the many like it that at one time held hundreds +of Cornish folk to watch the open-air plays that +delighted their hearts until Wesley's teaching made +them think them wrong. After that they served +as meeting-places for Wesley himself in many +instances. The church, with some peculiarly quaint +frescoes, and the Plan-an-guaré, the plane as it is +called locally, give St. Just a character of its own. +Down one terrific hill, falling at an angle that no +one unless he lived in Cornwall would dare to make +a road, and up another, is Botallack, with its well-known +mine, now stilled, and the taint of the red +tin is felt in earth and air for many a mile beyond.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + +<p class="center">FURTHEST WEST AND FURTHEST SOUTH</p> + + +<p>It has been the invariable creed of every writer on +Cornwall that visitors seeing the Land's End for +the first time must be disappointed with it. Disappointment +there may be after a very cursory +inspection, but it is evanescent. It only lasts as +one approaches across the flat ugly ground where +sodden patches of raw earth lie in ridges, and the +dun walls of the unsightly hotel present their +dreariest side to the newcomers. Particularly is +this so in the height of the season, when public +vehicles of every variety and degree of manginess +decorate the landscape and the picture-postcard +craze is at its strongest.</p> + +<p>But those who stay long enough to see the place +quietly or those who visit it in the winter when +there are few disturbers of the peace, tell another +story.</p> + +<p>The reef of broken and pinkish tinged granite, +decorated by weird streaks of brilliant yellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +lichen, is frequented by "guides" who point out +fancy resemblances to faces in the weather carven +rocks. The reef is small; there is not much that +is grand about it; but if one sits there while the +sun sinks, a glowing ball, into the sea exactly opposite, +and the ruby and diamond points of the lighthouses +flash out far and wide, and perhaps a clear +pale sickle moon begins to sharpen in outline in +the fading sky, there is plenty on which to exercise +the imagination. The granite, being split by the +action of the weather into long columns, and +divided again horizontally into blocks, gives the +impression of a series of obelisks built up of separate +stones. The general effect is rather like the +famous cavern at Staffa. In places however the +rocks are split into such massive and even-edged +blocks that it is very difficult to disentangle the +natural from the artificial, and one often imagines +oneself to be gazing at the ruins of a castle which +is really only some cloven cliff hammered by +natural elements and not by tools of man's +making.</p> + +<p>On the seaward side the hotel lounge has been +carried out in a great bay, and from the sweep of +windows there are no less than four lighthouses to +be seen, with their varying flashes. The bright<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +ruby spot is the Longships Light on a grisly reef +so near that it looks as if you could throw a stone +upon it, though really two miles away. It is only +red on the landward side. Ships usually pass +outside this reef unless the sea is very calm, for it is +a dangerous coast. It seems hardly believable that +at times the men in the lighthouse are held up for +two months by the swell which prevents their relief +arriving, but so it is, and even on the calmest days +it is no easy matter to land. The Longships is a +reef composed of several rocky islets, some of which +are connected by bridges and in fine weather the +men can walk about and even fish, but in rough +weather the great doors in the tower are closed +for days together. When the swell comes, rolling +from out the profoundly disturbed depths of the +Atlantic and heralding a storm, the sheeted foam +flies high above the lantern and often the last +vision one has before night drops like a black +curtain is that white froth of breaking foam around +the glowing red eye in the tower. Further out to +the south is the well-known Wolf Lighthouse, and +far to the west that on the Scilly Isles.</p> + +<p>Even in the depth of winter, on clear white +frosty moonlight nights, there are those who motor +down to see the Land's End by moonlight, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +usually the "trip" element occupies a very small +part of the day and of the year; and for the greater +part of the time the place is strangely solitary. +When the storms beat on the coast, driven by +the wild west winds, the boom and clangour is +heard as far inland as Lamorna Cove.</p> + +<p>The chief characteristic of the weather is its uncertainty; +there are clear bright intervals when +the sea and sky are of electric blue and the headlands +are etched out on them in black, and then +all in a moment the lowering wall of storm comes +up visibly; the outlines of everything are obliterated +in one sweep, and a squall of hail as big +as peas shrieks around, whitening the ground, +then flies on in its mad course, to be succeeded +by the joyous freshness of the clean-washed air +and the glory of the vivifying sun. In winter +time it is not safe to go two hundred yards from +the hotel without a mackintosh, and yet just +across the waste of heather along the little sheep +tracks on the slopes, what wonderful views are +to be seen in the steep-sided bays filled with a +smother of foam, where the stones being driven +irresistibly against one another grind off their +harshnesses.</p> + +<p>It is a terrible coast, and nearly always, even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +on the calmest day, when the wolves might be +supposed to be sleeping, the sudden baring of +a fang in the whitening of some jagged rock, +a moment before invisible, shows the lurking +danger.</p> + +<p>But what perhaps catches the imagination most +sharply at that "raw edge" is the tradition of the +Land of Lyonnesse, lying between here and the +Scilly Isles.</p> + +<p>There seems very little foundation for this poetic +fable and though, as already said, the roots and trunks +of trees have been found in Penzance Bay and it +is possible there may have been some landslip on +a large scale in prehistoric times, there seems +geologically nothing to point to a complete submergence +of miles of land at the extremity of +Cornwall. Tradition speaks of a land covered with +villages and churches—indeed, no less than a +hundred and forty churches—all buried in the +shifting water by reason of one great convulsion, +and Tennyson has placed here the scene of +Arthur's rule and his last battle:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For Arthur, when none knew from whence he came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long ere the people chose him for their King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roving the trackless realms of Lyonnesse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had found a glen, grey boulder and black tarn."<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>And again:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So all day long the noise of battle roll'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the mountains by the winter sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until King Arthur's Table, man by man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had fall'n in Lyonnesse about their lord."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The Scilly Isles are supposed to be the tops of +the hills belonging to the lost land and so are the +Seven Stones, a jagged ridge midway between +them and Land's End, whence in fine weather the +isles can be seen as faint cirrus clouds lying along the +horizon. But though this is the nearest point to +the islands, they can only be reached by steamer +from Penzance, the <i>Lyonnesse</i> going and returning +alternate days. There is no harbour at Land's +End and the cruel fanged rocks would make the +direct voyage very dangerous, so the journey has +to be lengthened out from Penzance.</p> + +<p>As for the islands themselves, those who brave +the crossing come away with strangely mixed +feelings according to their temperament. If they +go bathed in the glamour of <i>Armorel of Lyonnesse</i>, +by far the best of Besant's books, they +will see the romance and charm of these windswept +bits of rock. If they are there in the spring +they will visit with delight the acres of carefully +tended flowers guarded by high thick walls and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +hedges from the ever sweeping western winds; if +a little later in the nesting time of gull and guillemot, +razor-bill, puffin and cormorant, say the first +week in June, then the sights of bird-life will +well repay them. They may even find the nesting-places +of the tern, shearwater, or such voracious +pirates as the kestrel and peregrine, or the stormy +petrel; but this will be in the outlying islets, as +the greater traffic and population of late years has +driven many of the shy birds away. The halcyon +days when sea and sky are one soft blue dome +and the water washes and laps around the rocky +shores give a glimpse of peace and remoteness +such as one might imagine form part of heaven. +The masses of cloud piled up in towering grandeur, +the vast horizons and even the beat of the sudden +squalls will find response in some people. But +there are few save islanders born and bred who can +revel in the lash and struggle and constant menace +of the black winter days.</p> + +<p>Surrounded by water on all sides the temperature +is kept equable, hence it is that narcissus, +violets, anemones, daffodils and other of the +earliest spring flowers can be grown in the open +and sent to be delivered in London weeks before +the home counties can produce them.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + +<p>It is rather curious that the name by which the +whole group is known should not be that of the +largest, or even of one of the largest, islands. +Scilly is a mere rock rising from the sea to the +west of Bryher, it is flat and cleft in two by a +deep chasm through which the water runs. The +currents are very strong and it is not often a +landing is possible here. St. Mary's, the principal +island, is the one where the steamers arrive, at +Hugh Town. This name has not any authentic +derivation, though it has been suggested it may +be connected with the word "huer," to call or +cry out. Tresco is next in size, and in summer +a steam launch runs across to it from St. Mary's. +Here lives the proprietor of the Scillies, Mr. +Dorrien-Smith, in a comfortable house amid a +perfectly glorious garden, in which are the ruins +of an old Abbey built in the time of Henry I. +There is some fine rock-scenery to be found in +the outlying islets, if one takes the trouble to +look for it in a boat, and some of the views of the +scattered islands seen from a height on a clear day +can never be forgotten.</p> + +<p>To the north of Land's End is the sweeping +curve of Whitesand Bay leading up to Cape +Cornwall. It is possible to bathe off the shore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +with certain precautions. Directly inland is the +little village of Sennen, which for many years +boasted "The First and Last" house in England; +and down on the shore Sennen Cove, where the +families of the lighthouse men live, and the Atlantic +cable comes ashore.</p> + +<p>Whitesand Bay has historical memories; Athelstan +sailed from here to conquer the Scilly Isles +after his sanguinary victory at St. Buryan. It was +a bold undertaking considering the means at his +disposal. The shore of Whitesand, which is low-lying +on an otherwise iron-bound coast, has +naturally been the landing-place for those who +arrived at this extremity of England. Stephen disembarked +here when he first came to the country +from France and so did Perkin Warbeck. In the +centre of the bay the granite and slate meet and +mingle.</p> + +<p>No other place can vie with the Cornish coast +for curious and suggestive names. We have here +Vell-an-Dreath meaning "The Mill on the Sand." +All traces of the mill have disappeared, but the +tradition of it lingers. It was kept by a father and +son, it is said, who found themselves attacked by +a roving gang of Spaniards who had landed to +harry the country. The native Cornishmen made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +a stout resistance, and finally escaped the back way +under protection of a cloud of smoke, carrying +stout sacks of flour on their backs to protect them +from bullets. The Spaniards destroyed the mill, +which was never rebuilt.</p> + +<p>Close to the southern end of the bay is a detached +rock called The Irish Lady, which with some +imagination may be likened to a mincing dame +flouncing out to sea. Such rocks are not at all +uncommon in Cornwall, one, very well known, is +Queen Bess at Bedruthan Steps. Towering above +the lady on the mainland is Pedn Men Dhu, +Black Rock Headland, a pile of massive granite. +Further along we find Carn Barges, the Kites' +Rock; Carn Towan, the Rock on the Sandhills; +Polpry Cove, the Clay-Pit; Carn Leskez, the Rock +of Light, said to be where the Druids kindled their +sacred fires, but much more likely the place where +faked beacon fires were lit to lure ships to destruction +in the bad old days! Close off Cape Cornwall +are the Brisons, two fearful shattering piles, +and near them Priests' Cove, right under the headland.</p> + +<p>The coast to the south of Land's End is even +more interesting, and if any of those who say they +are "disappointed" with Land's End could walk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +round here they would soon recover. The coast-line +is serrated by innumerable small bays like deep +bites and in each one some wild and strange rock-forms +imitating natural objects can be seen. We +pass at first by Carn Greab, Cock's Comb Rock, +where a conspicuous group includes the Armed +Knight, and then we come to a tiny island called +Enys Dodman, which has a great archway scored +through it by the action of the waves. Pardenick +Point rises perpendicularly about two hundred feet +from the sea; the curious "pillar" appearance of +the rocks is very striking, and not less so the +reddish veins which run like streams sheer down +the granite in places. Anyone lingering here, as +the sun sets and the shadows grow long, can make +out all sorts of weird shapes and haunting faces in +the cliffs, as odd as any mediæval artist's conceptions +embodied in gargoyles. We pass Mozrang Pool, +the Maid's Pool, and then the Red Rock, and the +Chilly Carn; next a chasm called by the poetical +name of "The Song of the Sea," and so to the +"Cove under the Vale." All along the coast, those +who have time to explore it will find strange sea-caverns, +logan-stones, natural arches and other +fantastic forms.</p> + +<p>Then we reach Tol Pedn, where is quite the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +grandest scenery in the whole district. Approaching +from the landward side on an autumn or late summer +day the heights are seen covered by a wonderful +carpet of purple or crimson and gold. It is made +by the intermingling of the dwarf gorse and the +heather, which are so interwoven they could not +be separated. As the result of this close embrace +these two plants, both small, form a gorgeous +tapestry of colour, and the vast heights and sounding +hollows of the headland are glorified by them. +Tol Pedn means Holed Headland and evidently +refers to the Funnel, a great chasm a hundred +feet in depth and eight feet in diameter, cut out +as if by a giant cheese-scoop down to the roaring +sea. Below, the tide scours the bottom at every +return, and at low tide it is possible to enter from +the beach. In early spring the close sward on +the higher reaches is starred with little blue squills. +Great care must be taken not to slip and lose +one's balance on this short turf, because in Cornwall +one is never fenced in by puny supports. +The Chair Ladder usually attracts much wonder, +it is an immense pile of upright blocks. The +whole scarping and shaping of the cliff is vigorous +and original, and looking down from above into +one gully after another you can see the gulls float<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +in effortless dignity over the measureless gulfs +below.</p> + +<p>Just round the corner from Tol Pedn is to be found +one of the quaintest little fishing villages, Porthgwarra, +where a tunnel has been cut through the +solid rock to allow the fishermen to get down to +their boats. The rocks are fine red granite, and +with the brilliant blue of the sea on a sunny day +and the yellow ochres of sand and sail there are +"ready-made" pictures at every turn. Looking +out from the darkness of the tunnel the colours +are enhanced. One of the most attractive points +about the many mighty caverns along the coast are +the clean-cut, brilliantly clear pictures to be seen +from their dark interiors.</p> + +<p>All these and many other curious and fantastic +things may be found by those sure of eye and foot. +For one of the greatest charms of Cornwall is its +variety and unexpectedness, at all events as regards +the coast.</p> + +<p>For a hundred people who go to Land's End it +is safe to say only one visits the Lizard. Though +the usual run of tourist conveyances have found +it out, it is more difficult to get to than the western +extremity, and is a little out of the way. Yet in +the opinion of those who have seen both the Lizard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +beats even the fantastic scenery to the southward +of Land's End.</p> + +<p>The approach is nothing short of lamentable in +its dulness. Except for an oasis about half-way +across Goonhilly Downs, the wide, flat, dead-alive +plateau occupying the heel of Cornwall, there is +nothing to note. Even right on to the end the +feeling of dismay grows. The meek green fields +carry one down almost to the shore, for though we +have come across a bit of heath <i>en route</i> which +recalls how repeatedly we have been told that the +<i>Erica vagans</i> grows here and nowhere else, we +leave this behind and wind once more between +grass fields toward the dreary little cluster of +houses called Lizard-town, which looks not unlike +a forsaken coast-guard station from the distance. +To reach the famous Housel Bay Hotel we must +branch off before getting to the town, and following +a lane which looks as if it led merely to a +lighthouse, we come quite suddenly on the building, +facing due south in the centre of a little +bay. Not until we have passed the hotel and +got out to the cliff paths does the surprising +interest of the scenery begin to unveil itself, and +the orderly sanity of the fields, which vexed our +eager souls, is forgotten. On the two horns of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +the bay stand the flashing lighthouse and Lloyds' +signal station. We are here at the most southerly, +as we have just been at the most westerly, point +of our country.</p> + +<p>The cliffs are carved into many fantastic and +bewildering shapes. Before we have got very +far we are brought up short by an immense hole +or funnel, cut clean-lipped from the short turf, +and just the shape of one of those paper twists +shop-keepers make for sweets. It is much larger +in circumference than the Funnel at Tol Pedn. +No railing protects the edge; people at the Lizard +are supposed to have their wits about them. By +lying down flat and approaching cautiously, we +can peer over and see that here also the sea +runs in on the floor. This is one of the cliff +vagaries made within the memory of man. On +the night of February 19, 1847, the hole appeared +suddenly, yet so quietly that no one knew of it +until it was seen. There had apparently been +a shell or roof which had given way as the sea +scooped out the earth from below. Yet that +such a sudden catastrophe is possible shows how +little we know about what goes on under our +feet.</p> + +<p>A little further on a column of spray shoots<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +in fluffy steam from a blow-hole every few seconds +after the last billow has fallen away. Near it +a huge boulder perched on a great plinth balances +at an uncertain angle. How did it get there? At +every turn "chairs" of stone extend a silent invitation +to us to seat ourselves and gaze at the +ships passing and repassing in a silent and endless +procession.</p> + +<p>The Serpentine rock streaked with hornblende, +felspar, slate and green-stone, shows changing +colours like a pigeon's breast. It weathers into +columns and pillars and arches and caverns, as if +on purpose to delight the hearts of children +of a larger growth, too old for spades and pails. +Only a mile or two away at Kynance Cove these +wonders come to perfection in the torn and twisted +rocks lying in masses on the shore, which is covered +with shining sand in summer but scoured black +and stony by the rough seas in winter. By +Caerthillian Cove we may pass to Pentreath beach +and Yellow Carn and thus to Kynance. At places +the cliffs have broken away forming a natural +quarry and here come the people from the little +town above, and search for well-coloured fragments +of serpentine to fashion into candlesticks, and +brooches, and ash-trays to sell to tourists. Dark +red is a rare and popular colour and dark green +also; chocolate with splashes of green, like variegated +marble, is often seen. There is little fishing to be +done on this wild rigid coast, and beyond some +rough farming and their "serpentine" shops, it is +hard to see what the population live upon. The +rocks at the Lizard are split more often horizontally +than vertically, and instead of being sharp upright +columns as the granite fragments are at Land's +End, these are broad lumps giving a curious +sense of steady untiring watching with uplifted +heads.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_104.jpg" width="600" height="429" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">CAERTHILIAN COVE</span> +</div> + +<p>One interesting point about rock scenery is that +it changes so little in the course of years that +the impressions of those who saw it long ago +are still not out of date. There are two very +simple little books, two generations old now, but +full of charm when read on the spot, Mrs. Craik's +<i>An Unsentimental Journey in Cornwall</i> and the +Rev. C. A. Johns's <i>A Week at the Lizard</i>, 1848. +Mrs. Craik, who wrote <i>John Halifax, Gentleman</i>, +came here with two nieces near the end of her life, +and gives a picture of Lizard-town which might +stand to-day. With a horse and "shay" they +visited the various points of interest along the +coast, climbed into the dank caves and mounted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a><br /><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +the slippery weed-strewn rocks. It was a bold +journey to make at the time, and their taste was +in advance of most of their contemporaries who +had not learnt to delight in the grand and desolate +places of the earth. The Rev. C. A. Johns is +well known as the author of <i>Wild Flowers of the +Field</i>, which ran through numerous editions and +is the most popular of his many natural-history +books.</p> + +<p>Not many days after reading Mrs. Craik's book +at the Lizard, I was in the light railway running +to Newquay in the north of the county and saw +a girl of about sixteen, deeply absorbed in a book, +opposite to me. It was bound in the dingy maroon +cloth so beloved by the librarians of Free Libraries, +and peeping over I saw it was <i>John Halifax</i>, +thus nearly sixty years after publication giving +as much pleasure as when it was new! If the +good lady could have known it, how pleased she +would have been!</p> + +<p>When the sun falls over the shoulder of the +cliff in the west, the revolving light from the lighthouse +begins to flash out with a regular monotonous +beat on its long night vigil. At any time after +dark one can see the huge pencil of light darting +round, striking the white signal station opposite,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +losing itself in the sea and so returning. There +is something awe-inspiring in that regular sweep +of pulsing light every three minutes, hour after +hour, carrying its silent sure message to those +at sea. If anything happened to the Lizard light +what terrible wrecks there would be on this jagged +coast!</p> + +<p>Nearly as impressive is it to catch by night the +glimmer of the Morse code flashing from ships which +are revealing their names and journeys to those ever-vigilant +watchers in the signal station as they pass. +What stories that signal station might tell of the +journeyings to and fro, of the ships conveying food +and clothes and necessaries from port to port! +Here is a vessel bound from Galveston to Havre +with cotton, she is British; about every second or +third that come by is laden with coals from +Cardiff; here is another from the other direction, +bringing fruit from the Mediterranean to Liverpool, +with all the beating up the Irish Channel yet to +face; passing it, and doubtless hailing it in transit, +is another Liverpool ship carrying a general cargo +to Italy, and when times are peaceful and there +are no scares from submarines, the great American +liners from Plymouth swell the number with their +enormous bulk. It is a regular, and, if one may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +use the expression, a well-beaten track around this +great blunt headland, and it is small wonder the +enemy submarines haunted it to find their prey, as +men wait hidden beside the tracks of wild animals +in the jungle.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + +<p class="center">KING ARTHUR'S LAND</p> + + +<p>Tintagel can never disappoint anyone. The very +spirit of romance is in the place. If you have +climbed across the narrow neck that links the +"island" to the main, and passing through the low +doorway of the ruined castle, have crossed the +space surrounded by the broken wall, and so gone +out again to the plateau above, you will find yourself +among the sheep and cut off from the world, +apparently swinging in space. There are great +mounds all around, in shape like graves, covered +with coarse tufty grass munched by the ragged +sheep whose hair is blown into knots by the +ceaseless wind. It takes very little imagination +to picture that around lie the bodies of a mighty +host of warriors, at peace at last in sound of the +booming sea which clashes in its mad rush through +the caverns deep beneath, with the wind whistling +over them boisterously, or crooning low even on +the mildest summer day.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p>It is quite likely, as experts say, that the present +ruins date only from the twelfth or thirteenth +century. Arthur may never have set foot on the +tufty grass of the cube-shaped island; there may +never, for that matter, have been an Arthur at all, +but lying in the grass above the slaty ruins and +looking through the serrated arch to the onyx-green +sea, fretting the black rock, all these doubts +seem simply silly and fly away light as the spume +flying inland in great balls.</p> + +<p>The spirit of Arthur and his fighting men lives +here still. It may possibly have been summoned +up by the thoughts of the countless host of +pilgrims who have come expectantly to the most +beloved of all the shrines of British history. For +thoughts if repeated may conjure up visions.</p> + +<p>And the vision of Tintagel, that needs no seeking, +but comes pressing on you as insistently as the +sea-laden air, is one of old-time warriors impregnably +ensconced. With their castle standing +on the very edge of the gulf—narrower then than +now—which separated them from the mainland. +Guarded by a drawbridge crossing that sharp space +so that three men could well hold back an host. +Protected on all other sides by the sheer cliff, +with a fortification at one point where it was just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +possible to land. Having above a wide plateau +from which to gaze seaward and landward far over +the rolling slopes of the country, along the deeply +broken coast with its sugar-loaves of detached rock, +or else out to the shifting ocean, they were in an +enviable situation. They had a well of water on +the very summit of their stronghold, and pasture +for sheep by the dozen to insure plenty of mutton. +They could laugh to scorn any such enemies as +that age could bring against them.</p> + +<p>There are several such striking vantage points +along the Cornish coast, one at Tol Pedn, another +at Treryn Dinas where is the Logan Rock, and +there are signs they have all been utilized, but none +of them had the superb advantages of Tintagel with +its wide level of turfy heights, and the living water +flowing from the heart of the rock.</p> + +<p>There is no doubt that some such man as Arthur +existed, though it is hardly likely he was the +model of refined sensitiveness and perfect chivalry +romancers have made him out to be. At any rate +he was a gallant warrior if the old chroniclers are +to be believed, and it is probable that his standard +of conduct was high above his age, or the legend +of his virtue would not have clung to him so +persistently. The notion that such a king in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +Cornwall would neglect such a position may be +dismissed as absurd, and so we may take it that +Arthur fortified himself here on the heights, from +whence he ranged far and wide, even so far as +Scotland, to win his victorious battles. And all +proof seems to point to it that he met his death in +Scotland far from the beating of his beloved savage +waves in Cornwall.</p> + +<p>All this coast is slaty shale; there is a miniature +quarry just away to the west round the next headland, +and the materials lying to hand were not +likely to be neglected in days when transport was +more of a consideration than now. So the crumbling +walls which cling to the cliff are of slate, sharp and +jagged, and inside the arches present a serrated +edge like a crocodile's teeth. These arches are +pointed which shows they were of later date than +Arthur, and the rest of the masonry can hardly be +said to have any style. The first mention of Tintagel +in public records is in 1305, and in 1337 the +castle was fairly habitable, at any rate that part of +it standing on the mainland. We can imagine the +original castle, which this one superseded, to have +been much the same only with heavy round arches. +So we can picture the past without great difficulty. +And lying in peace we can repeople the place<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +with the gorgeous figures of Tennyson's Idylls, +much better known to most people than <i>La Mort +d'Arthur</i>. The constant splash of the waves and +the steady cropping of the sheep are broken now +and again by a Woof! exactly like the growl of an +angry beast. This is caused by a blow-hole in the +cliff from which, when the wind is strong and onshore, +the spout of water is sent out forty feet or +more.</p> + +<p>Right beneath us is a cavern cut through the +solid rock from side to side, and into this the sea +scours at its height, the breakers from each end +meeting with a shock in the middle. The rocks, +which are so black and frigid outside, are rounded +within, and coloured a strange sea-green, with +almost a wan look, while the floor is composed of +myriads of flat stones, round and oval, all sizes, +from a sixpence to a soup-plate, making a natural +pavement easy to the tread. The beach at the +mouth of the cave is the same, armoured by +myriads and myriads of flat smooth rounded stones +lying so closely together as to give the appearance +of a dragon's scales; it would not be hard to conjure +up imaginary dragons here for the cave is +by tradition "Merlin's Cave," and magicians and +dragons are always regarded as contemporaneous.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +These plates of slate, for they are nothing else, +have had all the angles scoured off them by the +scourging surge. The village people collect them, +picking out all that are of one size, to form neat +pavements. You also see them set like some +strange mosaic on the fronts of the houses, stuck +in mortar, and making a deep frieze; the effect is +not beautiful.</p> + +<p>But the ruined castle on the island is not all that +remains of man's handiwork here, for high on the +mainland, on the great boss of earth fronting the +island, are the remains of another castle, now +falling piecemeal into the gulf below as the cliff +crumbles. Some hold that the "island" was +originally an island in reality, and that the slender +neck of rock now linking it to the mainland is the +result of cliff-falls and débris. But whether that +was so or not the purpose of the landward castle +can only be guessed. It may have been an outwork, +though that seems rather unnecessary. Over +it hover screaming jacks, who love the sheltering +crevices of artificial walls, and occasionally may be +seen a red-legged and beaked Cornish chough which +here alone on the Cornish coast is not extinct, and +is supposed by the children to re-embody the spirit +of King Arthur.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>Arthur lived about <span class="smcaplc">A.D.</span> 500. His story is so +overlaid with legend that it is difficult to find any +grains of truth concerning him. Tennyson makes +him of miraculous birth, cast upon the shore by a +wave at Tintagel, of which the earlier name was +Dundagil, but even amid the romantic surroundings +of Tintagel we cannot swallow that bit of +poetic licence.</p> + +<p>Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall, went to pay homage +to the King of Britain, Uther Pendragon of glorious +name, at the noble city of Winchester, and, like +a foolish man, took his beautiful wife Igerna +with him. Uther kept his eye on the lady and +presently the unhappy husband, having returned +to his domain of Cornwall, was besieged in the +strong castle of Damelioc, not far from Tintagel. +Damelioc, represented to this day by an earthwork, +is on the road running through Delabole to Padstow, +or more correctly Rock, and is about eight +miles from Tintagel. Meantime, Gorlois had left +his wife in Tintagel, probably thinking his own life +would be safer if he were apart from her, for he +must have been well aware of all the consequences +his foolish indiscretion had brought about. This did +not save him; he was slain, and meantime the British +King obtained access to Tintagel and wooed the lady.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + +<p>In due time Arthur was born, and succeeded to +the chieftainship or Dukedom of Cornwall, apparently +without question, and proved himself one of +the strongest and bravest rulers that ever held high +position. His arms were everywhere triumphant, +and about a dozen victories are placed to his credit, +but he fell at last, fighting his traitorous nephew +Mordred somewhere about the year 542, when +Mordred was slain and Arthur, mortally wounded, +carried from the battlefield to die. This was the +Battle of Camulodunum and it was for long +supposed to have been fought quite near Tintagel, +close by the present town of Camelford, +the similarity of names giving colour to the error. +Besides there was a very fierce battle fought near +Camelford in some remote time, and the tradition +of it is strong to this day. The place is marked +by Slaughter Bridge, to be found by going half a +mile down a side road from the station. It is a +small bridge over a tiny stream, and it is supported +by great blocks of stone instead of piers. If you +linger there a girl comes from a rough shanty +near and says she will show you King Arthur's +tomb. A short scramble takes you down steep +banks where tree-trunks grow out horizontally +turning up at an angle to reach the light, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +brambles and creepers cling thickly, while the long +hart's-tongue ferns dip in the running water, floating +down stream like strange seaweed; then you +see a great monolith with a Latin inscription, of +which the only word still decipherable is "filius." +You point out to the little guide that in all probability +King Arthur was not buried here at all but +in Scotland where the evidence shows that the +Battle of Camulodunum was fought, and she makes +no objection provided the fee is forthcoming.</p> + +<p>No doubt some great chieftain was laid here after +the battle, where thousands were killed, so that a +thousand years later the bridge retains the name +of Slaughter Bridge, but it is likely the event took +place long after Arthur's death. For its date is +generally now acknowledged to be the year 823 +in the time of King Egbert. It was between the +Britons and Saxons, and history does not say which +was victorious. It may have been a drawn fight, in +which case the ground was strewn with bodies and +the waters of the stream dyed crimson all for +nothing.</p> + +<p>It is in later times that the dignity of King has +been conferred on Arthur, and some suppose he +was King of Britain; but it seems more likely +that he gained slices of territory spasmodically as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +the result of fighting, and was really only ruler +in his own corner of the country continuously, +though his battles spread his name far and wide. +There were so many rulers in those days and the +country was so cut up that it is not likely he was +able to assert himself supremely, and the conquests +of Ireland, Denmark, Norway, Gaul and +Spain attributed to him are pure legends. In a +very interesting little book called <i>King Arthur in +Cornwall</i> by W. Howship Dickinson, the case is +put clearly:—</p> + +<p>"The evidence which is wanting with regard to +Arthur's battle on the Camel comes to light on the +Firth of Forth. There is reason to suppose that +tradition did not err in the fatal association of +Arthur and Mordred, though the place of the last +scene was not Cornwall but Scotland. The name +Camlan which has been freely given by later writers +to the supposed battle on the Camel, is not to +be found there, nor, so far as I can ascertain, in +Cornwall.</p> + +<p>"Skene and Stuart Glennie maintain with much +converging evidence that Camlan is Camelon on +the river Carron in the valley of the Forth, where +it is said are the remains of a Roman town. Here, +according to Scotch tradition Arthur and Mordred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +met. We have evidence which appears to be +sufficient that Mordred was King of the Picts, or, +as he is sometimes termed, King of Scotland, and +the head of a confederacy of Picts, Scots and +Saxons, or, as some authorities have it of Picts, +Scots and renegade Britons. With this composite +army he gave battle to Arthur and his faithful +British force, in which the latter were defeated and +Arthur slain.</p> + +<p>"It is worth noting as in favour of the Scottish +location of the battle that Geoffrey [of Monmouth] +who places it on the Camel states Mordred's force +to have consisted of Picts and Scots. It is surely +improbable that Arthur could have been confronted +in Cornwall by a great army of these northern +savages.... It may be added that an earthwork +with double lines of circumvallation in the neighbouring +valley of the Tay now known as Barry +Hill, is designated by tradition as Mordred's castle."</p> + +<p>Where Arthur was buried will ever remain an +open question; Glastonbury long claimed the +honour but that has for some time been discredited +by those who have gone into the evidence. The +romantic account of his "passing," as given by +Malory and Tennyson is very fine. It tells how +Arthur, wounded to death, is carried down to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +waterside and gives his sword, Excalibur, to Sir +Bedivere to throw into the water, and how the +knight, after some hesitation, does as he wishes, +when a hand and arm arise out of the surface of the +lake, brandish the sword three times and disappear. +Then a little barge appears and carries the dying +King off to the Vale of Avallon from whence +he will one day return. The grand myth about +Excalibur is generally said locally to have taken +place at a dreary little pool known as Dozmare, +a lonely tarn, flat and bleak, fringed by reeds, on a +tableland several hundred feet above the sea near +Brown Willy, and on this assumption many a +persevering tourist has paid it a visit. But Tennyson +in describing the scene took a much more +beautiful place as his model, for he describes Looe +Pool which could by no possibility be associated +with the tragedy. This is close to Helston at the +entrance to the Lizard Peninsula. It is two or +three miles long, and formed by the widening out +of the little river Cober. The water formerly +escaped into the sea but gradually a bar was built +up, and there was an old custom by which the +Corporation of Helston had to present the lord of +the manor with two leather purses, each containing +three halfpence, in consideration of which they were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +then allowed to cut through the bar, but that has long +been discontinued. The bar is now a mighty thing +where great stones are hurled by powerful waves +and even on a calm day the thunder of the surf +breaking on it is heard for miles. The water of +the lake is otherwise drained. Its banks are well +wooded.</p> + +<p>In Tennyson's <i>Mort d'Arthur</i> when Sir Bedivere, +last survivor of the Knights of the Round +Table, carried his mortally wounded ruler from the +stricken field—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"On one side lay the ocean, and on one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lay a great water, and the moon was full."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And when Sir Bedivere, charged with the mission +of throwing the magic sword Excalibur into the +water, left the dying King:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"From the ruin'd shrine he stept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the moon athwart the place of tombs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Knights, and over them the sea-wind sang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He stepping down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By zigzag paths and juts of pointed rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came on the shining levels of the lake."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Thence twice he returned faithless, his mission +unperformed, to report:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I heard the ripple washing in the reeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wild water lapping on the crag."<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>All around Tintagel there are innumerable +references to King Arthur. In fact it might be +said that only the devil is more popular in this +respect than Arthur, for his name occurs perhaps a +little more frequently. Mr. Dickinson says: "We +have King Arthur's Hall, Hunting Seat, Bed, +Quoit, Cups and Saucers, Tomb and Grave." +The cups and saucers are the round holes weathered +in the stones on the summit of Tintagel island. +The grave is a sepulchral mound lying within +Warbstowe Bury, one of the largest British camps +in Cornwall. This is not very far north of Boscastle. +It is a vast circular mound with a sort +of crater on the top, and in the middle of this +is another mound, which has been called a Viking's +grave and the Giant's grave as well as King +Arthur's.</p> + +<p>Another place much associated with King +Arthur, which cannot be passed over, is the earthwork +known as Cardinham Castle about four +miles east of Bodmin. This has been identified +by good authorities with Caradigan where Arthur +held his court, to which there are many references +in Arthurian legends.</p> + +<p>On the other side of Tintagel, on the road +between Camelford and Wadebridge, and not four<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +miles from the latter place, is Killibury Castle +identified with Kelliwic. Arthur was "lord of +Kelliwic," and these associations all taken together +carry a fair amount of evidence as to the presence +of the chivalrous ruler in this district.</p> + +<p>Whatever else is doubtful we cannot but be +sure that Arthur's existence and reputation contributed +in no small degree to the preservation of +the men of the British race in this corner of the +island when they were in danger of being pushed +back into the sea by the oncoming Saxons, and it +is to this that Cornwall owes in some ways its distinctive +character, preserving racial features that +are found nowhere else. The men of Ireland and +of Wales are related certainly to the original +Cornish but there is a distinct cleavage. Arthur +may have made his fame known right across +England, his victories may have carried him to +the capital, Winchester, and beyond, but it is +certain that his name will ever be associated most +strongly with this far corner of the country where +he was born and where he had his homeland +associations. And these associations, being the +very earliest of the British race surviving, serve to +attract from far our Colonial brothers and our +American cousins; Tintagel will never lack visitors.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>But with the castle we have not exhausted by +any means all that is worth seeing here.</p> + +<p>Leaving the castle on the mainland we come +very quickly to the "little grey church on the +windy hill" with its graveyard wall almost +swallowed up in rising grass and turf, and some +of the tombstones heavily buttressed against the +prevailing winds. The church tower must have +formed a mark for generations to men of the sea. +It stands up straight and bleak with never a tree +to hide it. The entrances to the graveyard are +over a pavement of round stone bars placed a few +inches apart so that the cattle dare not cross them +for fear of slipping in between with their narrow +hoofs. There are many marks of great age inside +the building and the grey stone walls, that have +been many times restored, have heard the strong +west winds whistling round them from the sea and +moaning the tale of the wrecks on the coast for +many generations.</p> + +<p>All along this coast are steep descents and +strange rock freaks. To the north, across the +gully leading down to Tintagel Castle, there is a +mighty fracture which has split asunder a huge +angle of rock, that looks as if it only needed a +giant push to thrust it back into the fracture,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +closely fitting. Yet the chasm below is so sheer +and stern that no one can climb up the sides. The +sea-birds know it. It was a happy chance for them +that made this citadel free from the sullying steps +of man, and the steep slopes of brilliant green amid +the bare rock surfaces are peppered all over with +them as if with a handful of comfits.</p> + +<p>The wild music of a host of gulls is the bagpipes +of the coast, and arouses the same feelings +in the breast of the sea-lover as the pipes do in +that of a Scotsman. It is associated with the +sound of the surge and the deadly thrust and heavy +swell at the foot of the tough cliff. These things +tug at the heart of a sea-lover. Lying amid the +prickly furze, sheltered for a moment from the +deadly wind-whistle, and gazing across that unscalable +chasm, we have before us that gull-fortress +exactly as it and its kind have been reproduced +on the canvas of a well-known painter +many many times. What business has he to do +the thing so well that we are familiarized with the +stern beauty of the haunts of the freest of birds, +and feel when we see them in Nature that half +the charm has been forestalled by the blunting of +our sensibility?</p> + +<p>It is no easy task to scramble along these rough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +cliff edges, and one not to be undertaken by cripples +or invalids.</p> + +<p>Not very far is one of the valleys so attractive to +the Cornish folk, who find in them the growth and +snugness that contrast so impressively with their +bleak uplands.</p> + +<p>Down the Rocky Valley a stream gushes merrily, +tumbling in miniature waterfalls every few yards, +and meeting at last the oncoming wave with a +shock as the sweet water mingles with salt. Everything +grows amazingly, and the huge rectangular +rocks high overhead on each side of the gully, are +mostly draped in masses of ivy. They resemble +ruins, as Cornish rocks often do, so that it is +frequently most difficult to distinguish the natural +from the artificial. Most people's idea of ivy is +neat flat clinging stuff but here it grows in lumps, +yards in thickness, and decorated with brilliant +bunches of black berries in the season when there +is little else to compete with it. In the valley +which leads from the nearest station, Camelford, +to Tintagel just such masses may be seen. The +road runs downhill for about four miles, leading +mysteriously into what seems the mouth of a +quarry. The sides are covered with untidy, loose +clumps of furze, with mighty stones, and ever and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +always, in all corners, moss so rich that it might +almost be mistaken for a bed of miniature ferns. +Climb up on one side and you get a glimpse into +a pool, with sides sheer like a hewn cistern, and +something so weird and awful in its onyx depths +that it suggests robbery with violence, suicides, +hangings, and anything else gruesome, while the +water drips perpetually from the green lines of +slime on its sharp walls. Further on are the +glistening piles of slate from a disused quarry. +The real quarry of Delabole, famous far and wide, +is behind, beside the railway, from which one may +look right down into it. The road to Tintagel +opens out at last and then, if we are lucky enough +to be going westward at sunset, we may see +suddenly a hazy glow as of a forest fire over all +the wide expanse of sea and sky, and outlined +against it the great black lumps of rock off Trebarwith +Strand.</p> + +<p>With Tintagel must be associated Boscastle but +a few miles along the coast to the north, for hardly +anyone who visits the one place will fail to see the +other, yet the two are singularly different. Boscastle +lies all down the sides of one of those curious +clefts, which would be called chines or denes elsewhere, +and in this instance the drop is extraordinarily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +steep. To go sheer down is a feat most +people will find difficult, even on foot, and the new +road has been designed to help. Even that would +be accounted steep in any ordinary place. Down, +down it goes into the neck of the funnel, and +looks for all the world as if it were leading to a +slate quarry, and then suddenly there opens out +one of the grandest harbours on the coast, with +huge sloping cliffs running alongside and curving +round, making the entrance both difficult and +dangerous. With their lovely curves and angles +they add greatly to the vision. From the heights +of these cliffs Lundy Island can be seen when the +air is clear. There is an old saw:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When Lundy is high it will be dry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Lundy is plain it will be rain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Lundy is low it will be snow!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>If the word of the inhabitants is to be trusted the +last contingency must come seldom indeed!</p> + +<p>The name Boscastle comes from Bottreux or +Botreaux-castle, spoken quickly and run together. +The site of the castle, which had ceased to exist by +Queen Elizabeth's reign, is still pointed out. The +town lies in two parishes and the church of Forraburry, +belonging to the one, stands well up on the +western cliff.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>Care must be taken in climbing about the shore +for the cliffs are very steep. Just to the north or +east is Pentargon Bay, cutting deeply into the +land, and near it the Seal Caves though seals +seldom come there now. The waves dash in with +tremendous force, especially with a westerly wind, +which is common, when some grand sights may be +seen. The black walls of the slate rock and the +white spray of the shattered waves and the strange +blue tint of the sea compose some pictures finer +than any that have yet found their way on to a +painter's canvas.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + +<p class="center">THE SANDY BEACHES OF THE NORTHERN +COAST</p> + + +<p>What a splendid series of resorts lie along the +northern coast of Cornwall! Take them in order +as they come. St. Ives, Newquay, Padstow, and +Bude, leaving aside for the moment the smaller +ones, or those like Boscastle and Tintagel, which +stand in a class by themselves and have been +already referred to. All these four have certain +characteristics in common but each has a distinct +individuality. That is one of the charms of Cornwall, +nothing is cut to a pattern. By far the best-known +is of course the first mentioned, St. Ives, +with its splendid bays or "porths," with acres of +firm sand, and its unrivalled golf-links at Lelant. +It seems odd that a place should be able to face +due east in Cornwall, yet somehow part of St. +Ives manages to do it, that part of it which is on +Porthminster Bay and is most favoured by visitors. +The town is curiously placed, for the older part +lies on a neck or isthmus protruding northward +between two magnificent bays, and it is the curve +on each side of the neck that makes the east and +west side face respectively Porthminster or Porthmeor. +From the east you look straight across to +Godrevy Point and lighthouse.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_133.jpg" width="600" height="431" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">ST. IVES</span> +</div> + +<p>St. Ives could never pall because it is not all to +be seen or understood at a glance, and those who +stay there longest admit they know it least. Seen +from almost any point there is a view which +demands attention, whether it be the green ruggedness +of the island—only technically an island—against +the soft blue of the sea, with the terraced +lines of drab houses rising in tiers in front of it, or +the harbour with its boats and screaming gulls and +the old weather-worn church abutting on it. The +prevailing tones of all the buildings are drab and +grey; drab stone, drab stucco, drab paint with pale +slate-grey roofs; a little red brick or tile would be +an improvement from an artistic point of view.</p> + +<p>It is an odd feature of Cornwall that however +bare and treeless some parts are, and they could +hardly be barer in the Hebrides, yet the towns are +generally warmly encompassed by trees. It is so +at Penzance and it is so here. Woods rise behind +the houses, and the richness of the evergreens<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a><br /><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +makes a shelter even in winter, while the ferns are +inexhaustible in number and of great variety. The +season is only for two months of the year, August +and September, during which months the place is +packed and the numerous inhabitants who live +upon the yearly godsend of the "foreigners'" +money, are hard put to it to supply accommodation; +but all the year round there is a certain +number of visitors who find in the clean fresh air, +the glorious golf-links, second to none, and the +wide views, just what they need. It is true that +tiresome change at St. Erth junction has to be +faced before reaching the town, but this is nothing +compared with the days when the junction was the +very nearest point of rail, and the rest of the +journey had to be completed by road. This was +altered in 1877 and the innovation was a great +factor in the growth of the town. The road +approach from this direction is well graded and +has a good surface, but from the Zennor side so +much cannot be said. A new road is being cut +through and the approach improved, but even +when it is completed, there must still be the long +and precarious descent through a squalid part of +the town to face.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 456px;"> +<img src="images/i_138.jpg" width="456" height="600" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">A STREET IN ST. IVES</span> +</div> + +<p>The region of the visitors is mainly above the +station, facing Porthminster Bay, where terraces +of houses exist for the sole purpose of providing +accommodation, but there is a secondary part +above Porthmeor Bay where rows of neat little +houses claim their share. Down on the harbour +front and curving round behind it is the old town +with its indescribable jumble of what can scarcely +be called architecture; where outside staircases, +and overhanging first-floor rooms with no visible +means of support, twisted archways and narrow +passages are inextricably mingled. The names of +some of these places are quite delightful, Puddingbag +Lane, Chy-an-Chy, Street-an-Garrow, Bunkers' +Hill, and the Digey, while away westward is +Clodgy Point. The old inhabitants must have +had a genius for nomenclature.</p> + +<p>St. Ives is the haunt of a colony of artists who +rival those at Newlyn, and what with artists, fishing +and visitors, the rest of the inhabitants manage +somehow to live. But the fishing is not what it +was; gone are the golden days when the shoals of +pilchards announced by the "huers" from the +Malakoff bastion were sufficient to provide a good +livelihood for the whole town:</p> + +<p>"The pilchards are expected on the coast in +October, when their appearance gives rise to general<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a><br /><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +excitement at a place like St. Ives. Often have +been described the patient watching of the <i>huers</i> on +the cliffs, who with a huge trumpet at length +announce their joyful discovery, and by the waving +of bushes telegraph the movements of the shoal +marked by the colour of the sea and its hovering +escort of gulls; the rush of men, women, and children +to the shore with shouts of <i>heva! heva!</i> which is +Cornish for the classic <i>Eureka</i>; the marshalling of +the seine boats; the shooting of the huge nets; the +enclosure of the luckless victims by myriads; then +the hurried orgy of capturing, pickling, and storing, +stimulated by its promise of prosperity to the whole +place."</p> + +<p>Alas! they come but scantily now and there is +not much of any sort of fishing to be had. Though +just enough to account for the brown-sailed boats +lying in the harbour and the blue-jerseyed men +belonging to them without which, it may be presumed, +the artists would find some paucity of +material and perhaps disappear also.</p> + +<p>St. Ives would not be a Cornish town if it lacked +hills and there are plenty to give exercise to leg +muscles; but yet there are some places almost flat, +and one has only to descend to the sands to secure +a perfectly horizontal walk!</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>This is not a guide book and there is no need to +go into detail about the ancient church in the very +midst of the workers, or the restored tiny chapel +out on the "island" that really once was an island, +which overlooks as in blessing the drying nets that +blacken the green of the grass on the slopes below. +The chunk or bite out of this island on the east is +Porthgwidden Cove, and the Foresand runs from +here to Penolva Point whence begin Porthminster +Sands. On the hill behind the town rises the +hideous Knill monument where the little girls +dance around on July 25 every fifth year, in +memory of the conventional alderman who left +such directions in his will, and yet after all is not +buried here.</p> + +<p>The impression carried away from St. Ives is of +light and freshness and space, and of width of sand +that would attract attention anywhere, but which +here in Cornwall is phenomenal; and of enough +modern comfort and cleanliness to make things +very pleasant though within reach lies the old kernel +of the town in piquant contrast.</p> + +<p>The name Porthminster means "church of the +sands" and it is curious that the church should thus +be referred to in one of the principal place-names +when the St. Ives' people had originally to go to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +Lelant for their services, marryings and buryings. +Finding this state of things intolerable they +petitioned for a church of their own and completed +it in 1426. It was built close to the shore for the +obvious reason that the stone of which there was +abundance in the neighbourhood, could be more +easily brought by water than overland, but it was +not so near the sea as now, for in the seventeenth +century "there was a field between the churchyard +wall and Porth Cocking Rock, and sheep grazed +on it."</p> + +<p>The church of Lelant was rapidly being overpowered +by the sand which has swallowed up many +ancient oratories or "cells" built low down on the +shore, and it was only saved by the planting and +rapid spreading of the coarse rush grass which +binds the surface of the towans together in a kind +of mat and prevents the sand from drifting.</p> + +<p>St. Ives with its eastern aspect is fresh even in +the summer, and yet strange to say not very cold +in winter, as the flowering shrubs which grow so +well testify.</p> + +<p>Newquay is not at all like St. Ives; it has no +quaint muddled fishing town behind the "visitors' +front," and it lies all along the top of high cliffs +so that its main street is almost level, or at any +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>rate, level for Cornwall. At one end is Towan +Head not unlike St. Ives' Island, and from thence +the bay runs in great scoops or curves cut off from +each other except at low tide. These sandy bays, +surrounded by high cliffs, resemble to some extent +those at Broadstairs, and the aspect of Newquay is +the same as that at Broadstairs for it faces mainly +north. It is airy and spacious and light, and its +signmark of originality lies not in its front so much +as in its back, the long estuary of the Gannel River +which forms a kind of back-door entrance. But +villas and boarding-houses are rapidly springing up +along the Gannel estuary, facing south, with their +backs to Newquay proper, and thereby a bit of very +fine wild land is being spoilt. There are excellent +golf-links along Fistral Bay and huge hotels have +sprung up to reap what harvest of visitors there +may be, indeed it is a stock joke to say of Newquay, +as may be said with much truth about Oban, +"every second house is an hotel."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_145.jpg" width="600" height="446" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">FROM LELANT TO GODREVY</span> +</div> + +<p>No one who looks at the map even cursorily can +fail to note the extraordinary number of places +in Cornwall beginning with the prefix St. This +would be natural in Roman Catholic Ireland but +it is whimsical in Methodistical Cornwall. It is, +however, but one of the many signs of the very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +ancient history of the place which gives it so much +charm. These reminders keep cropping out constantly +among the modern surroundings, as the +granite outcrops on the Bodmin moors and again +at Land's End and the far-lying Scilly Isles, which +are too but granite peaks.</p> + +<p>Newquay for all its newness lies in a district of +ancient memories. Only a mile or two away eastward +are St. Columb Minor and Major, in fact +Newquay itself is really in the parish of St. Columb +Minor. Not far from St. Columb Major there is +one of the most perfect remains of an ancient +castle of the earthwork kind. It is called Castle-an-Dinas, +or, locally, King Arthur's Castle. It is +enclosed by three rings of earth and stone, of which +one was probably strengthened by a moat, and the +inmost part covers an acre and a half. But a little +way from St. Columb Major on the other side is +St. Mawgan at the end of the Vale of Lanherne, +one of the well-wooded rich Cornish valleys which +are so much admired by the inhabitants. Cornish +people go for their picnic-parties and pleasure days +to a valley as most people would to the seaside.</p> + +<p>Newquay Bay is really one crescent or horn of +a much larger bay extending right up to Trevose +Headland, and within this sweep lies Watergate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +Bay and Bedruthan Steps with its detached rocks +and fine natural scenery. Dividing Watergate and +Newquay Bays is Trevalgue Head, an island connected +with the mainland by a footbridge. Here +the sea-pinks flourish abundantly covering all the +ground with their frilled blossoms when in flower. +They do well almost anywhere in Cornwall, but +exceptionally well here, and the sheet of pink-tinged +ground, caught as a foreground to a vivid +summer sea, is a sight not to be forgotten. The +only thing that spoils the fine cliff effects is that +the whole coast here and northwards is composed +of slate—a substance which does not lend itself to +beauty of line or colouring.</p> + +<p>But by far the most "saintly" associations of +Newquay are on the other side. Across the +Gannel is Crantock called after St. Crantock, +St. Patrick's great friend, one of the three bishops +chosen to revise the laws of Ireland after the +country was converted to Christianity. Crantock +landed here and built his church. A mile or two +away on the shore is the Holy Well, still visited +by curious men and maidens, and within the +memory of those living held to have a miraculous +power of making rheumatic men sound again. +Holy wells in Cornwall are almost as plentiful as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +saints, possibly the one is always associated with +the other as the outward sign of wonder-working +power.</p> + +<p>The extraordinary stretch of sand called Perran +Beach would be remarkable anywhere, but it is +more remarkable still on the rock-bound coast of +Cornwall. Norden, with unconscious Irishism, +describes Perran as being "almost drowned with +the sea sande." The whole region for three miles +in length and as much in breadth is sand alone. +Inland a few plantations of pines struggle to survive +just beyond its zone, and the little slate-roofed +houses have a strangely glaring unfinished look; +the hedges which divide up the land show here +and there straggly scrubby bushes all bent violently +eastward by the prevailing winds, and in the dreary +corner of sandhills between them and the sea is +somewhere to be found the tiny chapel of St. Piran, +which is very interesting because it is the very earliest +ecclesiastical building to be found in the land. It +dates from the eighth or ninth century and is only +twenty-five feet long. It was covered with sand as +if buried in a snow drift and for seven centuries +was completely lost. It is probably to this it owes +its preservation. Sir A. Quiller-Couch's irreverent +but amusing story concerning it in his <i>Delectable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +Duchy</i> is known to most people. St. Piran, or +Kieran as he is called in Irish, came over from +Ireland in the sixth century and settled down here, +where many wonders grew up about his name and +his fame spread far and wide. Hundreds of people +who never enter a modern church find themselves +strangely impressed by this little ruined church +buried amid the sand dunes with its record of +between thirteen and fourteen hundred years of +sanctity behind it. The very name Perranporth +and its neighbour Perranzabuloe are so peculiarly +and distinctly Cornish that they draw the inquisitive +to them. The latter means Perran in the Sand. +There is some very curious rock-scenery near Perranporth, +where all the fantastic freaks of caves +and natural arches, so common in Cornwall, can +be seen at their best.</p> + +<p>Far deeper than the inlet of the Gannel at +Newquay is that of the River Camel, near the +mouth of which Padstow stands. This is an estuary +filled with water at high tide and lying in long +melancholy reaches of sand at low tide. Padstow +clusters round a very old-fashioned little port, +where seafaring men congregate and discuss the +weather and prices. There is not a great deal of +fishing and only a little general trade, as the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +mouth of the river requires ticklish navigation. +There is an enormous hotel standing on a height, +and a very attractive church with an old Elizabethan +mansion of the Prideaux-Brune family behind +it. But all the sands are on the other side of +the estuary, at Rock, whence the ferry-boat paddles +to and fro about every hour. The rolling dunes +have been utilized for fine golf-links and the all-encroaching +sand has done its best to swallow +up the little chapel of St. Enodoc, as it once +succeeded in doing with St. Piran's; so far it has +been kept at bay, but it still drifts in whenever it +gets the chance. The links run out in the direction +of Pentire Point, one of the fine coast +headlands. It is very remarkable in Cornwall +how constantly names are duplicated, one might +imagine it would give rise to difficulties to find a +Pentire Point here, and an East and West Pentire +Point at the mouth of the Gannel near Newquay, +many miles south, and just below this Pentire +Point is Hayle Bay, and opposite Lelant near +St. Ives we have again Hayle at the mouth of the +river. Newlyn by Penzance is well known, and +Newlyn East south of Newquay not so well. We +have St. Just in Penwith and St. Just in Roseland. +There are doubtless many other instances.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>Of all the four seaside places discussed in this +chapter Bude has perhaps most strongly its own +character. Whoever heard of a seaside place with +a sweet-water canal running down the beach? +Canals are not usually associated with beauty and +the very word canal is enough to frighten off +many people. But the canal at Bude is quite +peculiar. It only serves the purpose of a harbour +for the ketches or fishing-boats apparently, and +a very awkward harbour it makes too when a +distracted ketch harassed by the strong flowing +tide and baffled by a teasing wind, noses +this way and that and fails to hit the narrow +entrance. Then, a thing of beauty and distress, +she heels over on the beach as the tide runs out, +and the natives gather round to speculate whether +she will "break her back" or not.</p> + +<p>Bude possesses a breakwater too, but the oddest +breakwater! For, instead of curving round like +most normal ones, it sticks out straight into the +sea and forms a favourite public promenade, with +the added excitement that in rough weather you may +very easily be swept off the hog's back of rounded +stones and dashed to pieces against the rocky +masses on either side.</p> + +<p>Owing to the fact that Bude Bay is on a coast<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +facing sheer west, the quarter of the wildest winds, +the waves drive in with great force sometimes. +The thunder of the surf on the shore may be heard +like the deep pedals of an organ and all the air +is hazed by the flying scud. To see the sun drop +like glowing copper straight into the sea, behind +ridge upon ridge of the "wild white horses" is most +impressive. The strata of the rocks on the shore +are most weirdly bent and contorted. It is difficult +to conceive the state of convulsion which twisted +them into the shape of innumerable up-ended +triangles, one within the other, fitting like puzzle-boxes, +or bent them right back like gigantic hooks. +There is one great layer of rock which looks like +the back of a whale, half a-wash, with all the ribs +showing.</p> + +<p>Bude is peculiar in the fact that it has all sorts of +scenery combined in one place. The high downs +covered with short grass lie north and south, and +between them is the bay covered at high tide but +showing a fine stretch of easily accessible hard sand +at low water; while, as may be gathered, the rock +scenery is well worth seeing. Here, as at so many +places along this coast there are excellent golf-links, +in this case in the very centre of the straggling +town on the "Summerleaze." There is a second<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +golf-links on the heights above Wrangle Point, +belonging to the old Falcon Hotel by the bridge.</p> + +<p>About two miles inland is Stratton, the scene of +the victory of Sir Bevil Grenville over the Roundheads, +a victory which was within an ace of being a +defeat. The Earl of Stamford had marched into +Cornwall, with forces of about seven thousand men, +and camped at Stratton, where he was attacked +by Sir Bevil with half the number and defeated. +Grenville came of a famous Cornish family which +numbered among its members Sir Richard, who +with his little ship the <i>Revenge</i>, tackled the great +Spanish galleons and managed to damage many of +them before he fell mortally wounded as is recorded +in Tennyson's much-quoted poem!</p> + +<p>Further north still, the very last place of note +on the Cornish coast, is Morwenstow, visited by +hundreds of people because of its association with +its one-time vicar, the Rev. Robert Stephen Hawker, +a muscular Christian of a peculiarly pungent personality. +His generosity and kindliness toward his +fellow-men was unstinting, but he was withal full +to the brim of eccentricity. He married while still +a youth of twenty at the University, his godmother, +who was twenty-one years his senior, and they lived +happily together until her death in extreme old age.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +Hawker believed in ghosts and was exceedingly +superstitious; there are many curious stories still +current as to his doings, and the life of him by +the notable novelist Baring-Gould is well worth +reading.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + +<p class="center">THE INLETS OF THE SOUTH COAST</p> + + +<p>Fowey is perhaps the best known by name of all +the Cornish towns. This is due in some measure +to its being the home of Sir A. Quiller-Couch, who +has made it familiar to thousands in his stories of +<i>Troy Town</i> and <i>The Delectable Duchy</i>. But people +who go to Fowey should be prepared to find it +unlike anything anywhere else. Fowey Harbour is +a long narrow slit penetrating into the land and +closed in on each side by very steep hills which +drop down sharply to the water. On the west lies +Fowey town close to the mouth of the harbour, +built on the hillside. It consists of one long +narrow street, so constricted that only here and +there, where the houses fall back a little, has it +been found possible to drop in a few feet of pavement, +otherwise foot-passengers take their chance +with the traffic. There are houses on each side. +Those on the seaward side are built right on to the +water so that many of them have ladders hanging<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +from their backyards by which the men can climb +down into their boats. Passing casually along the +main street and glancing into an open doorway one +sometimes sees the passage falling downwards like +an open shaft, the lower end a rectangle of blue +dancing water!</p> + +<p>On the other side the levels, if they can be called +levels—for there is hardly a foot of level land anywhere—rise +high overhead. In following any of +the quaint crooked streets it is possible at one +moment to look up at school children playing in a +courtyard high overhead and five minutes later to +survey the same children shortened in perspective +by being seen from above!</p> + +<p>In the very midst of the town is the splendid old +church, and near it, but so tucked away it is not easily +discovered, is Place House, the seat of the Treffrys, +an old Cornish family. The oldest parts of this +have stood since 1457 and it is said that here once +was a palace of the old Earls of Cornwall, which is +quite probable, as they could hardly have chosen a +better spot.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;"> +<img src="images/i_160.jpg" width="444" height="600" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">FOWEY</span> +</div> + +<p>If we pass on by the long narrow main street +we come out eventually on heights terminating in +Gribbin Head. But Fowey is not recommended +for people with weak hearts unless they intend to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>sit upon the charming verandah of the hotel as +suggested in the first chapter. Wherever one +turns there are steep hills to negotiate, and the +magnificent views gained across the deep inlet +must be bought by hard labour. Yet having said +that it is but fair to add that nowhere in Britain +are there sights to beat these. The harbour lies +like a Norwegian fiord between its hills, and the +water ranges in all imaginable blues and greens as +the light wanes and changes, while there are ever +coming and going craft of many kinds. Fowey is +not a fishing village; anyone who said it was would +have to reckon with Sir A. Quiller-Couch! The +harbour is visited by ships in search of cargo such +as the china-clay which forms so large a proportion +of the export, and the graceful vessels, often sailing-ships, +which come to fetch it, are towed in and out +by the little tugs which work unceasingly about the +narrow straits. And the inlet is one of the most +popular for yachts all along the coast. There is +here reproduced a most interesting chart of Fowey +Harbour, drawn in Henry VIII.'s time, and now +in the British Museum. This reproduction is taken +from Lysons' <i>Magna Britannica</i>. As will be seen, +it shows Lostwithiel, Liskeard, and even Bodmin, +with a pictorial representation of the stags grazing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a><br /><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>in Restormel Park. Even at that date the twin +forts guarding the narrow entrance to the harbour +were "decayed."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 394px;"><a href="images/i_163-4_b.jpg"> +<img src="images/i_163-4.jpg" width="394" height="600" alt="" /> +</a></div> + +<p>In Henry III.'s reign Fowey men rescued some +of the ships of the men of Rye, and Fowey was +therefore honoured by the Cinque Ports "with +armes and privileges." In the time of Edward III. +Fowey supplied more ships to the King's Navy +than any other port in England, which is an +amazing fact. At the Siege of Calais there were +forty-seven ships from this little place! The men +of Fowey were always known as bold sailors, +having been brought up upon the water it seemed +their natural element. So stung were the French +by the wasps issuing from this nest that they made +a descent on Fowey in 1457 when Lady Treffry, +whose husband was not at home, led the defence +and helped to beat back the attackers to their +ships.</p> + +<p>In later times Fowey earned a base reputation +for being the harbour of pirates and eventually +was punished by being obliged to transfer its ships +to Dartmouth.</p> + +<p>Those who like boating and sea-fishing will find +plentiful opportunity here to indulge in both.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_167.jpg" width="600" height="461" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">BODINNICK FERRY, FOWEY</span> +</div> + +<p>Just opposite Fowey town a deep bite into the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>land cuts off a projecting tongue, reached from the +west by ferry, and the piled houses upon it, falling +down their mountain-side, lack something of the +beauty they might easily have had in such a situation. +But further down, where at Bodinnick ferry +passengers are carried to and fro there is much to +admire. Bodinnick is an inland village which has +fallen by accident upon a seashore, at least that is +the impression it gives. The walls are lined with +bladder seaweed, the seaweed that goes "pop" to +the delight of children. This hangs in black masses +above the incoming water, but over it rise woods +and trees, and ivy and ferns, and all the paraphernalia +of a country lane. The ivy in fact tumbles +riotously down on the top of the seaweed! The +cottages, maintaining their balance with difficulty +on the perilous slope rising from the ferry, are +covered with rose bushes. Candytuft and violets +come out in their season to creep over the rough +stone walls; white pigeons flutter overhead and +glimpses of large-leaved plants of a kind more often +associated with a tropical climate, peep at one +from backyards. There is nothing conventional +or suburban about Bodinnick! It takes no trouble +to clear away the bits of broken crockery or +rusty tins; perhaps it likes the feeling of homeliness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +they give, and the sleepy cats appear to like +it too.</p> + +<p>From Fowey there is one road and only one, +which leads across the headland westward to Par +sands, but there is a choice of two routes by +railway, one running along beside the inlet, which +is of course the mouth of the River Fowey, and +giving lovely views of the wooded reaches about +the mouth of its tributary the Lerryn, which, +following the custom of rivers in this district, has +a considerable inlet to itself. While Penpoll Creek, +nearer the sea, affords a comfortable harbourage +even in a very high wind. But the one road and +the two railways do not sum up all the ways of +getting out of Fowey, for you may persuade the +burly round-eyed old salt who has spent his life +in crossing and recrossing hundreds of times, to +put you over at Bodinnick, and then you can wander +at your own sweet will by any of the innumerable +tracks over the great rectangle bounded on the +west and north by Fowey River (which turns at a +right angle about Bodmin Road), and on the east +by Looe River. This lump of land is cut up and +seamed by valleys and broken by hills. On the +sea-line, about halfway across, is the tiny fishing +village—really a fishing village this time—of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +Polperro, than which no quainter thing exists in +Britain. You drop down, down, down, to Polperro +until you can look up and see the cows grazing +high overhead as you might in an Alpine valley, +and then you plunge into the miniature confused +streets of the town, and following them at random +may or may not come out at the little port, and +walking along the rude jetty see the outer harbour +and the small beach. The smell of fish is strong +in the air; the fishing-boats lie in neat rows, +supported by legs to prevent their heeling over +when the tide runs out. The houses cluster on the +steep hillside in terraces, and below them a collection +of blue-guernseyed stout-booted men, with +wholesome sea-tanned faces, lounge about as if +they were the idlest set in Christendom, though +their work demands the hardest toil and greatest +endurance of any calling man can follow.</p> + +<p>Polperro is strangely like a little town in Brittany +and has something about it also which recalls the +inland villages tucked away in the spurs of the +Alps or Apennines above the Riviera. It is easy to +imagine that anyone having visited it and trying +to recall where he had looked upon such a scene, +would search his memory for tours abroad and +never think of England.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>A good road leads up out of this valley on the +Looe side and once the hill is surmounted it may +be remarked with surprise that at the cost of going +a little round it actually tries to keep on the level; +that is not a practice habitual to Cornish roads, +which seem to take a pure delight in a switchback +manner of progress. This road was cut in 1849, +the means of arriving at Polperro before that being +something like falling down the face of a cliff. +Polperro was the home of Jonathan Couch, the +naturalist, grandfather of the novelist Sir A. +Quiller-Couch, who lives a short way off at +Fowey. Mr. Thomas Couch's <i>History of Polperro</i> +embodying his father, Jonathan Couch's, notes, and +published in 1871, may still be read with interest. +He pictures himself standing on the height of +Brent. "Immediately below are the harbour, +valley and town of Polperro; the Peak with its +striking jagged outline and massive black colouring; +the sail-loft resting in a recess on its side; +the ledges of rocks here and there hollowed into +caverns, and the quays, between which are the +fishing-boats riding quietly in tiers. Further up +among the hills which shut this scene in you see +strange, and apparently confused, groups of houses, +having a general tint of whitewash, and, above +them, on the southern side, the little Chapel of +St. John."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 475px;"> +<img src="images/i_174.jpg" width="475" height="600" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">LOOE</span> +</div> + +<p>Though many new and better-class houses have +been built, this description still holds good. The +cliffs all round are very sheer and steep, dropping +straight into the water, which is deep up to the +base. In some of the little old houses there are +low, dark rooms smelling strongly of fish and brine, +with the beams showing. Mr. Thomas Couch +says: "In the old home of the Quillers [his mother's +family] there was hanging on a beam a key, which +we, as children, regarded with respect and awe, +and never dared to touch, for Richard Quiller, +Jane's father, had put the key of his quadrant on +the nail with strong injunctions that no one should +take it off until his return [which never happened]; +and there, I believe, it still hangs." This doubtless +gave "Q" his idea for the key on the beam in that +curiously unequal story, <i>Dead Man's Rock</i>.</p> + +<p>The two Looes, East and West, facing each +other across the mouth of the river,—which here +<i>looks</i> like the mouth of a river and not a fiord as +at Fowey—are easily understood. You can see +them both from the bridge, whereas in Fowey on +first arrival it is very difficult to know where you +are and I doubt if anyone really knows even after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a><br /><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +staying there awhile, for there is no place where +you can get a comprehensive view unless it is from +the opposite shore at the expense of much toil and +trouble. The Looes lack the picturesqueness of +Fowey but on the other hand you can get about +much more easily and there is bathing on the front. +The woods lying inland have a great and peculiar +charm. Not very far above the bridge the river +bifurcates, the two branches being east and west +to match the twin-town. Here in the wide sandy +estuary sea-birds congregate, and the boats are +drawn up in rows beneath the overhanging trees, +which come right down to the very lip of the water. +It is difficult to contemplate without amusement +the golden era before the Reform Bill when this +little place returned four members to Parliament, +two for the handful of houses each side of the river! +It is difficult—but perhaps not quite so difficult—to +realize that Looe sent twenty ships to help King +Edward III. to besiege Calais.</p> + +<p>But these inlets we have been sketching are small +indeed compared with the mighty harbours of +many ramifications such as those at Devonport and +Falmouth. Devonport has already been touched +upon elsewhere, and we can pass on now to Falmouth +with its wide opening in Carrick Roads and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +the long thin fingers or tongues of water diving +deep into the heart of the land. One of these goes +up to Truro and it is one of the popular excursions +from both towns to sail up and down in the +summer steamboats from one to the other. Falmouth +itself lies along both sides of the neck of land +ending in Pendennis Point, and, though on a much +larger scale, is in that respect not unlike St. Ives in +situation. The southern side boasts the beach and +what may be called Villadom for its share, and the +northern looks upon the harbour and faces over to +the hamlet of Flushing where the ferry runs continually. +There are steep streets in Falmouth as +everywhere else in Cornwall, and even the main +street passing all along beside the water, mounts a +tough hill toward Penryn. The glimpses of the +crowded harbour and the variety and picturesqueness +of the boats and ships that find their way in +are a never-failing source of interest and pleasure.</p> + +<p>Before the days of steam Falmouth was of more +importance than it is now, and many a sailing ship +started from here with a cargo of passengers who +had travelled as far as possible on land before committing +themselves to the uncertain sea. But Falmouth +is particularly known for having been the +starting-place of the Royal Mail Packets which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +went to America, the Indies and other parts of +the globe. The mails were sent down by the +authorities, who chartered armed brigs with a crew +of thirty men and sent them off to run all the +risks of the sea and to fight if need be in defence +of their valuable cargo. Many a stubborn fight +there was too and many the weeping widow of +Falmouth who mourned her man in vain. It is +supposed that Falmouth first became a station for +"packets" in 1688, and the number sailing from +the port was increased from time to time until in +1763 there were boats going to Lisbon, the West +Indies and New York continually. Therefore for +about 150 years, until 1850, Falmouth was the port +for the mail-packets, but when steam power was +applied to ships she lost the mail service which was +transferred to Southampton.</p> + +<p>There is a school of artists here, an offshoot from +the Newlyn school, which seems to have been the +parent swarm of many a cluster.</p> + +<p>The castle on the headland, now in the hands of +the military, dates from the time of Henry VIII.</p> + +<p>Facing Pendennis Point are the jagged jaws of +another peninsula singularly like a crocodile's head. +On the lower jaw is St. Mawes, a pretty little +place with a rising hill behind. This peninsula is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>called by the pretty name of Roseland, which has +however nothing to do with flowers, being derived +from Rhos, the Celtic word for heath or gorse.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/i_181.jpg" width="600" height="459" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">FLUSHING—FROM FALMOUTH</span> +</div> + +<p>About a mile along the southern shore of Falmouth +is the Swan Pool, a sheet of fresh water cut +off from the sea by a narrow bar of sand, and supposed +by the Falmouth folk to outrival completely +the better-known Looe Pool near Mullion.</p> + +<p>The whole of the Lizard peninsula is nearly +shorn through by the Helford River, which almost +reaches across to Looe Pool. If this is the heel +of Cornwall, it, like the heel of Achilles, is vulnerable, +and nearly severed by the slash! There is +less to say about the Helford River estuary than +any other. Beyond the fact that it was once a +well-known harbourage for pirates it does not seem +to have any striking title to fame.</p> + +<p>It is rather odd that though Cornwall is so liberally +endowed with coast-line, so that at no part of +the Duchy is one really far from the sea, yet she +should have in addition these delightful winding +waterways cutting deeply and widely into her south +coast and affording excellent means of transit.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + +<p class="center">CORNISH TOWNS</p> + + +<p>If an enquiry were made among the Cornish towns +as to which of them it were fittest to mention first, +it can be easily imagined that one and all would +claim the honour for themselves. And truly each +has something to say for itself. Penzance is the +town best known to the majority of visitors, because +the railway ends there, and "London to +Penzance" has become almost as common a phrase +as "London to Cornwall." But so far as we are +concerned we need not bother about Penzance as +we have already given it full space. Truro could +advance good claims for she is the seat of the +Bishop's See and possesses the modern cathedral, +the only one in the Duchy, and also she is the +educational centre with fine county education +offices. Bodmin, however, is really the county +town as the Assizes are still held there, an honour +she has disputed with Launceston for many centuries, +the Assize Courts having swayed to and fro +between them. Even now there is talk of removing +them from Bodmin owing to the difficulty +of getting there. Bodmin is not on the main Great +Western line but only connected with it from +Bodmin Road by a branch line. Launceston can +outshine the others by reason of her fine ruin of +the ancient castle and an historical record second +to none, but at present official recognition she +cannot claim.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 452px;"> +<img src="images/i_186.jpg" width="452" height="600" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">TRURO</span> +</div> + +<p>Beyond these three we need not go. The coast-towns +have been already visited, and as for smaller +ones inland, such as Liskeard, Camelford, Redruth, +Cambourne, Callington and Helston, they cannot +hope to compete.</p> + +<p>Truro is just the picture of what one imagines +a market-town to be. On market-days its open +spaces are filled with country carts and the quaint +little covered-in omnibuses, like those used by +the peasantry of France on their immensely long +straight roads. There is a buzz and clamour of +talk outside the doors of the old Red Lion Inn, or, +as it now seems to be the fashion to say—hotel. +This is the house in which Samuel Foote, actor +and dramatist, was born in 1720; his father was at +one time Mayor of Truro. The house is worth +seeing on its own account, for it has a massive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a><br /><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +carved oak staircase—alas, thickly overlaid with +varnish, and some moulded ceilings unusual in +an inn.</p> + +<p>Truro is well watered, as it stands between two +small rivers which join in the creek by which steamboats +go down to Falmouth through pretty wooded +scenery. The town itself is quite tolerably flat for +a Cornish town, but long hills run up out of it on +all sides. The oldest part of the cathedral is that +which was the parish church, incorporated into the +new building. About the cathedral there have +been many opinions, but a modern cathedral can +hardly escape severe criticism considering that it +has to compete with all the dignity and reverence +of those which have stood hundreds of years! The +white stone shows up well, and though the town is +more or less in a basin the tall spires are seen from +the surrounding hills to advantage. There are +good shops in Truro and much that is of interest, +including the very fine collection in the Museum +of the Royal Institution of Cornwall, now housed +in a worthy building. Here anyone who has +wandered in the hills and over the barren moors +and seen the relics of hoary antiquity so freely +scattered, can look with seeing eye on the more +valuable specimens which have been found and are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +now cared for and preserved where they will not +be stolen or lost.</p> + +<p>Even in Domesday Book Truro is mentioned, +and at that time there were two towns, Great +and Little Truro, standing under the shadow of +a fortress held by the Earls of Cornwall, now +vanished, though its site is known and pointed +out near the station. The town's charter was +granted in 1130 and renewed in 1589, so it is +not much matter for wonder the inhabitants +look upon it as the first city in Cornwall, and, +in olden times, so bore themselves that they +earned for their city the nickname of "Proud +Truro."</p> + +<p>The cathedral was in great part due to the +energy of Bishop Benson, afterwards Archbishop +of Canterbury, who was made first Bishop when +the See was created. Bishop Benson "delighted +in the Cornish people and was never tired of +observing and analyzing their character." He did +much for Truro in many ways.</p> + +<p>Bodmin stands almost in the middle of the +Duchy with two long fingers, that of the inlet +of Fowey on the south and that of the inlet of +the River Camel on the north, pointing directly +at it. It is a very quiet little town but has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +somehow managed to preserve its charm. The +fine old parish church, almost worthy to take +rank as a cathedral, is in the midst, easily to be +seen. The church is the largest in Cornwall and +parts of it date from 1125. It once had a very +striking spire, destroyed by lightning in 1699. +Bodmin means the Monks' Town, and even though +it has the enormous barracks built in the usual +style, just outside, it still keeps something of the +monkish atmosphere. Bodmin scorns Truro's +claims of long descent, turning to Athelstan as +its founder. Athelstan, who founded here in 926 +a Benedictine Priory of which some traces even +now remain. The town is in a beautiful and well-wooded +neighbourhood, and anyone taking the +trouble to climb Beacon Hill just outside will +be rewarded. It was at Bodmin in 1498 that +Perkin Warbeck, who had disembarked near +Land's End, gathered 3,000 men together and +started his disastrous campaign by launching +himself against Exeter. In Bodmin meet, or +rather "meet with a gap between," the two rival +railways—the Great Western and London and +South Western; the latter station is a terminus, +and the line running northward connects the +town with Wadebridge and Padstow. The former +comes from Bodmin Road where it joins the main +line, and continues also to Wadebridge.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 446px;"> +<img src="images/i_193.jpg" width="446" height="600" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">THE BANKS OF THE FAL, FALMOUTH</span> +</div> + +<p>Between Bodmin and Launceston stretches the +wild tract of country known as Bodmin Moor. +A more desolate region it would be hard to find +or one more covered with relics of primitive man. +Norden has said in writing of Cornwall, "The +rockes are high, huge, ragged and craggy not +only upon the sea-coaste ... but also the inland +mountayns are so crowned with mightie rockes +as he that passing through the country beholding +some of the rockes afar off may suppose them +to be greate cyties planted on the hills, wherin +prima facie ther appeareth the resemblance of +towres, howses, chimnies and such like."</p> + +<p>Though he flatters the Cornish highlands in +calling them mountains, yet it is true enough +that the tors out-cropping in this region do take +on most curious shapes. The most remarkable of +all is the unstable-looking Cheesewring, southwest +of Launceston, and rather difficult of access. +Here stones are piled one on the top of the other, +each larger than the last, till the effect is that of +a gigantic and misshapen mushroom. But it was +not built deliberately, it just happened so. How—no +one knows, but the suggestion is that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a><br /><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +mass was once banked in by earth, which was +washed away, leaving the bare pinnacle of stone. +In the midst of the moor Brown Willy and Rough +Tor rise with considerable picturesqueness, and +their surfaces are strewn with the old beehive +huts of a people whose history is lost.</p> + +<p>But those who are not familiar with the country +should not wander far from the road as the bogs +and marshes are really dangerous. They find their +culmination in the odd little lake called Dozmare +Pool associated with the story of King Arthur. +This has no apparent outlet, and was once reported +to be of fabulous depth.</p> + +<p>Launceston stands in a category by itself; +though both the preceding towns are fairly hilly, +it outdoes them magnificently in that respect! +The streets up from the station are so steep that +only by one of them, graded for the purpose, can +vehicles mount at all. The others are merely +for foot-passengers. Yet if looked at on a map +which does not give contours, it will be seen that +Launceston in reality is one very long straggling +street running from end to end with various +branches. This street dips down into the hollow +where the railway is and mounts the other side. +Baring-Gould says of Launceston, "Scarcely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +another English town has such a picturesque and +continental appearance," but that is a matter of +opinion. The name, meaning Church-Castle-Town, +is very explanatory, for the church and +castle are the two outstanding objects of interest. +The former is most curious, for every foot of the +walls outside is covered by granite carving, mostly +of secular subjects and hacked out instead of +chiselled.</p> + +<p>At the east end beneath the east window is +a recess with a figure of Mary Magdalene much +worn and tormented, and no wonder, for it is +one of the Launceston superstitions that anyone +who can chuck a pebble so as to lodge on the +statue's back—no easy feat as the slope is slippery—will +have a year's good luck, and many there +be that try! The church is dedicated to St. Mary +Magdalene and is, as churches go, of no great +age. Curiously enough it was not at first the +parish church but merely the development of a +chapel.</p> + +<p>The present building dates from 1511 and the +tower is older. What is very singular, and +accounts for the choice of subjects on its quaintly +carven walls, is that they were not designed for +a sacred building at all. They were done for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +Henry Ashe of Trecarell, a wealthy Cornishman +who had a great mansion and was rebuilding it +regardless of cost; but in the midst of the work +his only son, a child, was drowned and the mother +died almost immediately from the shock, so the +wretched father passed on the granite carvings, +designed for a gateway to his mansion, to the +church, where they now attract many curious +visitors and adorn, not only the walls but the +very fine projecting south porch. The rose, the +pomegranate, the Prince of Wales's feathers are +frequently repeated with the arms of Trecarell +and Ashe. In order to give it an ecclesiastical +finish certain sentences in Latin such as "Oh +how terrible and fearful is this place. Surely +this is none other but the house of God and the +gate of heaven!" are embossed on shields round +the base.</p> + +<p>A much more ancient church is that of St. +Stephen away on the opposite heights beyond the +valley. Some authorities think that the name +Launceston really means Llan Stephan, the church +of St. Stephen, and there is some colour for this, +as it is possible the original town was around +the older church and that the other grew up near +to the castle. Baring-Gould boldly claims that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +the present town has no right to the name at +all, but should be called Dunheved meaning +"Swelling Hill." The castle keep certainly stands +on a most appropriate swelling hill, just the place +for such a fortification, with a magnificent view +over miles of country.</p> + +<p>The present remains, the great keep with its +rings of stone, is of Norman origin, but there was +most certainly a Saxon castle here before it. It +stands in delightful grounds, freely open to all, and +a very sanctuary for birds. A winding stair runs +within the wall and even in the present roofless +condition it needs but little imagination to transport +oneself back into feudal times, when the womenfolk +cowered within the small rooms behind the +solid masonry, and the warriors guarded the loopholes, +watching, waiting for attack.</p> + +<p>Launceston is peculiarly rich in churches; besides +the two mentioned there is St. Thomas, in +the valley between, where have been discovered +the ruins of a priory. From this the doorway +of the White Hart Hotel in the market-place +came.</p> + +<p>Down a side street is one of the old city gates, +the only one remaining to show that Launceston +was once walled. The chief point of interest about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +this, however, is apparently the very substantial +tree, which, in most mysterious fashion, has found +root-hold in the stone crevices and continues to +flourish many feet above the ground.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + +<p class="center">CORNISH CUSTOMS</p> + + +<p>Old customs, and festivals carrying in them the +germ of a meaning and significance long forgotten +by those who practised them but intelligible to +students of antiquity, continued to be observed in +Cornwall when they had died out in most other +places. There is no part of England where so +many curious observances, superstitions and festivals +are still observed as in Cornwall.</p> + +<p>Midsummer Day merrymakings were long kept +up in many places, especially in regard to the part +played by fire, and Richard Edmonds, secretary +for Cornwall to the Cambrian Archæological +Association, writing in 1862, says:—"It is the +immemorial usage in Penzance, and the neighbouring +towns and villages, to kindle bonfires and torches +on Midsummer Eve.... St. Peter's Eve is distinguished +by a similar display.... On these +eves a line of tar-barrels, relieved occasionally by +large bonfires, is seen in the centre of each of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +principal streets in Penzance. On either side of +this line young men and women pass up and down, +swinging round their heads heavy torches made of +large pieces of folded canvas steeped in tar and +nailed to the ends of sticks between three and four +feet long.... On these nights Mounts Bay has a +most animating appearance although not equal to +what was annually witnessed at the beginning of +the present century when the whole coast from +the Land's End to the Lizard, wherever a town +or a village existed, was lighted up with these +stationary or moving fires.... At the close of +fireworks in Penzance, a great number of persons +of both sexes, chiefly from the neighbourhood of +the quay, used always, until within the last few +years, to join hand in hand forming a long string +and run through the streets playing 'thread the +needle,' heedless of the fireworks showered upon +them, and oftentimes leaping over the yet glowing +embers. I have on these occasions seen boys following +one another jumping through flames higher +than themselves."</p> + +<p>This is a significant reminder of the custom of +passing children through the fire referred to in +the Bible.</p> + +<p>May Day celebrations are still kept up in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +little town of Helston, the key to the Lizard. +This saturnalia is held on the eighth of the month +instead of the first, because the eighth is the festival +of the apparition of St. Michael, who is represented +in the Town Arms. The festival is called the "furry +dance," a word which some writers have associated +with "forage" or "foray" because the young people +make a raid on all gardens and out into the fields +early in the morning to collect flowers and green +boughs. Polwhele connects the word with the old +Cornish "fer," a fair or jubilee. Rather unsuccessful +attempts have also been made to bring +in the goddess Flora, and suggest a corruption +of Flora-day to fit the present name.</p> + +<p>The day is a general holiday and anyone caught +working is subjected to unpleasant penalties. About +midday the most important person present leads off +with his partner down the main street to the tune +of a hornpipe—a local tune—and they are followed +by a gay crowd. The throng threads in and out +of the houses, in by the front door and out by the +back if possible, for all doors are left open for +them. Woe be to the churl who kept his shut! +At length they arrive at the Assembly Rooms +where a real ball begins.</p> + +<p>This curious performance slackened off for some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +years, but the Helstonians, finding that their little +town owed a good deal of advertisement to this +special festival, have revived it with goodwill, and +now are inundated with visitors at the recurrence +of the anniversary.</p> + +<p>Furry Day used to be held at Penryn on May 3 +and at the Lizard on May 1 and also in the parish +of Sithney, but now it can only be seen at Helston.</p> + +<p>May Day has peculiar significance as being the +celebration of the return of spring, and it is the +custom at dawn on that day in some parts to +dip weakly infants in the holy wells, which abound +in Cornwall, to ensure strength. This is still done, +though either secretly or in a jesting spirit, at the +holy well of Madron near Penzance of which +Madron is the mother parish.</p> + +<p>Many people adorn their houses in Cornwall with +boughs and garlands in honour of the day even at +the present time. May Day was the great day for +miracle plays, so beloved by the old Cornishmen +before they learned to consider them sinful under +the teaching of Wesley. The best of the old +amphitheatres, at any rate the one most accessible, +is the Plan-an-Guaré at St. Just referred to elsewhere.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 446px;"> +<img src="images/i_206.jpg" width="446" height="600" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">AT NEWLYN</span> +</div> + +<p>At Padstow hobby-horses still prance round the +town on May Day. Edmonds says:—"The hobby +horse, or effigy of a horse, is, at this festival of the +moon, dipped in a pool of water, and, for the same +reason perhaps, that a similar figure was, in Ireland, +passed through fire at the festival of the sun; to +preserve the cattle from death and disease." Sun +and moon being represented by fire and water.</p> + +<p>Mr. Baring-Gould says:—"During the days that +precede the festival no garden is safe. Walls, +railings, even barbed wire, are surmounted by boys +and men in quest of flowers. Conservatories have +to be fast locked, or they will be invaded. The +house that has a show of flowers in the windows is +besieged by pretty children with roguish eyes +begging for blossoms which they cannot steal. +The Hobby-horse Pairs, as they were called, <i>i.e.</i>, a +party of eight men, then repaired to the 'Golden +Lion,' at that time the first inn in Padstow, and sat +down to a hearty supper of leg of mutton and +plum-pudding, given them by the landlord. After +supper a great many young men joined the 'pairs,' +<i>i.e.</i>, the <i>peers</i>, the lords of the merriment, and all +started for the country, and went round from one +farmhouse to another, singing at the doors of each, +and soliciting contributions to the festivities of the +morrow.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a><br /><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They returned into Padstow about three o'clock +in the morning, and promenaded the streets singing +the 'Night Song.' After that they retired to rest +for a few hours. At ten o'clock in the morning the +'pairs' assembled at the 'Golden Lion' again, and +now was brought forth the hobby-horse. The +drum-and-fife band was marshalled to precede, and +then came the young girls of Padstow dressed in +white, with garlands of flowers in their hair, and +their white gowns pinned up with flowers. The +men followed armed with pistols, loaded with a +little powder, which they fired into the air or at the +spectators. Lastly came the hobby-horse, ambling, +curvetting, and snapping its jaws. It may be +remarked that the Padstow hobby-horse is wonderfully +like the Celtic horse decoration found on old +pillars and crosses with interlaced work. The procession +went first to Prideaux Place, where the late +squire, Mr. Prideaux Brune, always emptied a +purse of money into the hands of the 'pairs.' Then +the procession visited the vicarage, and was welcomed +by the parson. After that it went forth +from the town to Treator Pool 'for the horse +to drink.'"</p> + +<p>In Hitchins' <i>History of Cornwall</i>, edited by +Samuel Drew, he says of the hobby-horse of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +Padstow: "The head, being dipped into the water, +is instantly taken up and the mud and water are +sprinkled on the spectators to the no small diversion +of all."</p> + +<p>The Maypole festivities have been given up +of recent years, but hobby-horses still prance the +streets.</p> + +<p>Hitchins gives an account of a few local superstitions, +some of which are not peculiar to Cornwall:—</p> + +<p>"The sound of the cuckoo, if first heard on the +right ear, denotes good luck; but to hear the voice +first on the left, is an omen of undefinable disasters. +To spit on the first piece of money that is received +in the morning will ensure a successful day in +trade; and to hold up a silver coin against the +new moon on its first appearance can hardly fail +to secure lunar virtue for a month. To bite from +the ground the first fern that appears in the spring +is an infallible preventive of the toothache during +the year; and the first ripe blackberry that is seen +will put away warts. To pay money on the first +day of January is very unlucky as it ensures a +continuance of disbursements during the year; +and to remove bees on any day besides Good +Friday will ensure their death; while to work<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +oxen on that day is an act which few would dare +to perform lest they should suddenly die in the +yoke. To whistle underground is an offence which +few miners will suffer to pass over in silence; but +to whistle while the farmer is winnowing his corn +will as inevitably bring the wind as on board of a +ship or boat, it is certain to secure a favourable +breeze."</p> + +<p>Polwhele says: "The custom of saluting the +apple-trees at Christmas with a view to another +year, is still preserved both in Cornwall and Devonshire. +In some places the parishioners walk in +procession visiting the principal orchards in the +parish; in each orchard single out the principal +tree, salute it with a certain form of words and +sprinkle it with cyder or dash a bowl of cyder +against it. In other places, the farmer and his +workmen only, immerse cakes in cyder and place +them on the branches of an apple-tree in due +solemnity; sprinkle the tree, as they repeat a formal +incantation and dance round it."</p> + +<p>The harvest custom where the last handful of +corn is cut, being called "a neck," and then dressed +with flowers and carried off in triumph has been +often referred to.</p> + +<p>The men of Cornwall have long been celebrated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +for wrestling, they being no whit behind the men +of Devonshire and Somerset in this.</p> + +<p>They have other special games of their own too. +Of which the chief is "hurling," though now only +kept up in the parishes of St. Columb Major and +Minor, in other words in the neighbourhood of +Newquay, though a collection is made at St. Ives +in a silver "hurlers' ball." The game is that of a +ball being flung and thrown from one to the other, +with goals which may be two miles apart. Sometimes +one match takes days to decide. It is an +extremely rough-and-tumble sport. In the season +a match is played on the wide flat firm expanse +of Newquay sands and hundreds take part in it, +badges being used to discriminate between the +players. And on Shrove Tuesday a game is played +in the town of St. Columb the ball being thrown +up in the market-place and all traffic being held up +for the occasion. The goals used to be "either the +mansion-house of one of the leading gentlemen of +the party, a parish church, or some other well-known +place." The ball is rather larger than a +cricket-ball, but not so large as a football, and is +silvered over. The struggle is expressively described +by Carew:—"The hurlers take their way +over hills, dales, hedges and ditches, through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +bushes, briers, mires, plashes, rivers; sometimes +twenty or thirty lie tugging together in the water, +scrambling and scratching for the ball."</p> + +<p>These customs and sports are only samples, for +there are many quaint ideas still held in certain +parishes which would almost provide the material +for a book by themselves, and are far too numerous +to collect together in a sketch like the present. +However, enough has perhaps been said to show +how the Cornish spirit still lingers in spite of the +influx of "foreigners" growing ever greater yearly.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="SOME_BOOKS_ON_CORNWALL" id="SOME_BOOKS_ON_CORNWALL"></a>SOME BOOKS ON CORNWALL</h2> + + +<ul class="plain"> +<li><span class="smcap">Anon.</span> Walk Round Mount Edgcumbe. 1821.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Baring-Gould, S.</span> Book of the East. 1902.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Baring-Gould, S.</span> Vicar of Morwenstow. 1876.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Blight, J. T.</span> Land's End. 1861.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Borlase, W. C.</span> Nœnia Cornubiæ. 1872.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Bray, Anna Eliza.</span> Banks of Tamar. New edition. 1879.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Camden.</span> Britannia. 1594.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Carew, Richard.</span> Survey of Cornwall. 1602.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Collins, Wilkie.</span> Rambles Beyond Railways. 1861.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Couch, Jonathan.</span> History of Polperro. 1871.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Craik, Mrs.</span> An Unsentimental Journey in Cornwall. 1884.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Dickinson, W. H.</span> King Arthur in Cornwall. 1900.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Edmonds, Richard.</span> Land's End District. 1862.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Gay, Susan E.</span> Old Falmouth. 1903.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Gilbert, C. S.</span> Historical Survey of Cornwall. Two vols. 1817-20.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Gilbert, Davies.</span> Parochial History of Cornwall. Four vols. 1838.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Halliwell, J. O.</span> Rambles in Western Cornwall. 1861.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Hammond, Joseph.</span> St. Austell. 1897.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Harvey, E. G.</span> Mullion. 1875.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Hind, Lewis.</span> Days in Cornwall. 1907.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Hudson, W. H.</span> The Land's End. 1908.<br /></li> +<li><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span><span class="smcap">Johns, Rev. C. A.</span> A Week at the Lizard. 1874.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Lach-Szyrma, W. S.</span> Short History of Penzance, etc. 1878.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Lysons.</span> Magna Britannica. 1806-22. Vol. iii.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Maclean, Sir J.</span> Trigg Minor. Three vols. 1873-79.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Matthews, J. H.</span> Parishes of St. Ives, Lelant, etc. 1892.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">North, I. W.</span> Week in Scilly. 1850.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Norway, A. H.</span> Highways and Byways in Devon and Cornwall. 1897.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Polwhele, Rev. Richard.</span> History of Cornwall. 1803 and 1806.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Robbins, A. F.</span> Launceston, Past and Present. 1888.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Scott, C. A. Dawson-.</span> Nooks and Corners of Cornwall.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Stone, J. Harris.</span> England's Riviera. 1912.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Tregarthen, J. C.</span> Wild Life at the Land's End. 1904.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Victoria County History.</span> 1906.<br /></li> +</ul> + + +<h3>NOVELS.</h3> + +<ul class="plain"> +<li>Most of Q's books.</li> +<li><span class="smcap">Ellis, Mrs. Havelock.</span> My Cornish Neighbours.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Sidgwick, Mrs. Alfred.</span> In Other Days. 1915.<br /></li> +<li><span class="smcap">Besant, Sir Walter.</span> Armorel of Lyonnesse. 1890.<br /></li> +</ul> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a>INDEX</h2> + + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Archæology, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> + +<li>Armed Knight, the, <a href="#Page_61">61</a></li> + +<li>Arthur. <i>See under</i> King</li> + +<li>Artists, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li> + +<li>Athelstan, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a></li> + +<li>"Atlantic Drive, The," 47</li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Bedruthan Steps, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li> + +<li>Benson, Bishop, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + +<li>Bird-life, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> + +<li>Bodinnick Ferry, <a href="#Page_115">115</a></li> + +<li>Bodmin, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + +<li>Bodmin Moor, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li> + +<li>Bodmin Road, <a href="#Page_29">29</a></li> + +<li>Boscastle, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li> + +<li>Brisons, the, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> + +<li>British villages, <a href="#Page_46">46</a></li> + +<li>Brown Willy, <a href="#Page_12">12</a></li> + +<li>Bude, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Callington, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> + +<li>Cambourne, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> + +<li>Camel River, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> + +<li>Camelford, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> + +<li>Camulodunum, Battle of, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li> + +<li>Cape Cornwall, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> + +<li>Cardinham Castle, <a href="#Page_84">84</a></li> + +<li>Castle-an-Dinas, <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li> + +<li>Cheesewring, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li> + +<li>Chun Castle, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> + +<li>Cliffs, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li> + +<li>Climate, mildness of, <a href="#Page_7">7</a></li> + +<li>Cornish cliffs, <a href="#Page_11">11</a></li> + +<li>Cornish people, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a></li> + +<li>Couch, Jonathan, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></li> + +<li>Crantock, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li> + +<li>Cream, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> + +<li>Customs, <a href="#Page_135">135</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Davy, Sir Humphry, <a href="#Page_39">39</a></li> + +<li>Delabole, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li> + +<li>Devonport, <a href="#Page_120">120</a></li> + +<li>Dozmare Pool, <a href="#Page_130">130</a></li> + +<li>Dunheved, <a href="#Page_133">133</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Earthworks, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> + +<li>East Looe, <a href="#Page_119">119</a></li> + +<li>Enys Dodman, <a href="#Page_61">61</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Falmouth, <a href="#Page_120">120</a></li> + +<li>Fistral Bay, <a href="#Page_99">99</a></li> + +<li>Flushing, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li> + +<li>Forraburry, <a href="#Page_90">90</a></li> + +<li>Fougou Hole, <a href="#Page_43">43</a></li> + +<li>Fowey, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, 109 <i>et seq.</i></li> + +<li>"Furry dance," 137</li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Gannel River, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li> + +<li>Godrevy Point, <a href="#Page_93">93</a></li> + +<li>Golf, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li> + +<li>Goonhilly Downs, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></li> + +<li>Great Western Railway, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a></li> + +<li>Grenville, Sir Bevil, <a href="#Page_107">107</a></li> + +<li>Gribbin Head, <a href="#Page_110">110</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Hamoaze, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> + +<li>Hawker, Rev. Robert Stephen, <a href="#Page_107">107</a></li> + +<li>"Hedges," 5, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> + +<li>Helford River, <a href="#Page_123">123</a></li> + +<li>Helston, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a></li> + +<li>Hills, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a></li> + +<li>History, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> + +<li>Holy wells, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li> + +<li>Housel Bay Hotel, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></li> + +<li>Hugh Town, <a href="#Page_58">58</a></li> + +<li>Hurling, <a href="#Page_143">143</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Killibury Castle, <a href="#Page_85">85</a></li> + +<li>King Arthur, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, 72 <i>et seq.</i></li> + +<li>King Stephen, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li> + +<li>Knill monument, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li> + +<li>Kynance Cove, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Lamorna Cove, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> + +<li>Land of Lyonnesse, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li> + +<li>Landewednack, <a href="#Page_32">32</a></li> + +<li>Land's End, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> + +<li>Lanherne, Vale of, <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li> + +<li>Lanyon Quoit, <a href="#Page_46">46</a></li> + +<li>Launceston, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_130">130</a></li> + +<li>Lelant, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li> + +<li>Lerryn River, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></li> + +<li>Lighthouses, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a></li> + +<li>Liskeard, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> + +<li>Lizard, the, <a href="#Page_63">63</a></li> + +<li>Lizard-town, <a href="#Page_64">64</a></li> + +<li>Lloyd's Signal Station, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li> + +<li>Logan Rock, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a></li> + +<li>London and South-Western Railway, <a href="#Page_128">128</a></li> + +<li>Longships Light, <a href="#Page_53">53</a></li> + +<li>Looes, East and West, <a href="#Page_119">119</a></li> + +<li>Lundy Island, <a href="#Page_90">90</a></li> + +<li>Luxulyan, <a href="#Page_15">15</a></li> + +<li>Luxulyan Valley, <a href="#Page_29">29</a></li> + +<li>Lynher or St. Germans River, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Madron, <a href="#Page_46">46</a></li> + +<li>Marazion, <a href="#Page_37">37</a></li> + +<li>May Day, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> + +<li>"Merry Maidens," 44</li> + +<li>Midsummer Day, <a href="#Page_135">135</a></li> + +<li>Mining Region, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></li> + +<li>Mordred, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li> + +<li>Morwenstow, <a href="#Page_107">107</a></li> + +<li>Mount Edgcumbe, <a href="#Page_25">25</a></li> + +<li>Mount's Bay, <a href="#Page_35">35</a></li> + +<li>Mousehole, <a href="#Page_40">40</a></li> + +<li>Mozrang Pool, <a href="#Page_61">61</a></li> + +<li>Mullion, <a href="#Page_14">14</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Newlyn, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a></li> + +<li>Newquay, <a href="#Page_98">98</a></li> + +<li>Nonconformists, <a href="#Page_38">38</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Padstow, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a></li> + +<li>Pardenick Point, <a href="#Page_61">61</a></li> + +<li>Pasties, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> + +<li>Pedn Men Dhu, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> + +<li>Pendennis Point, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li> + +<li>Penolva Point, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li> + +<li>Penpoll Creek, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></li> + +<li>Penryn, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li> + +<li>Pentargon Bay, <a href="#Page_91">91</a></li> + +<li>Pentire Point, <a href="#Page_104">104</a></li> + +<li>Penzance, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> + +<li>Perran Beach, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> + +<li>Perranporth, <a href="#Page_103">103</a></li> + +<li>Perranzabuloe, <a href="#Page_103">103</a></li> + +<li>Pilchards, <a href="#Page_95">95</a></li> + +<li>"Pipers, The," 43</li> + +<li>Pirates, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a></li> + +<li>Plan-an-guaré, <a href="#Page_50">50</a></li> + +<li>Plant-life, <a href="#Page_16">16</a></li> + +<li>Polperro, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_117">117</a></li> + +<li>Porthgwarra, <a href="#Page_63">63</a></li> + +<li>Porthgwidden Cove, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li> + +<li>Porthmeor Bay, <a href="#Page_95">95</a></li> + +<li>Porthminster Bay, <a href="#Page_92">92</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Quiller-Couch, Sir A., <a href="#Page_118">118</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Redruth, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> + +<li>Roads, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></li> + +<li>Roche, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></li> + +<li>Rock, <a href="#Page_104">104</a></li> + +<li>Rocky Valley, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> + +<li>Roseland, <a href="#Page_123">123</a></li> + +<li>Royal Institution of Cornwall, <a href="#Page_126">126</a></li> + +<li>Royal Mail Packets, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>St. Blazey, <a href="#Page_29">29</a></li> + +<li>St. Buryan, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a></li> + +<li>St. Columb Major, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a></li> + +<li>St. Columb Minor, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_143">143</a></li> + +<li>St. Erth, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></li> + +<li>St. Germans or Lynher River, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> + +<li>St. Ives, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, 92 <i>et seq.</i></li> + +<li>St. Mary's Island, <a href="#Page_58">58</a></li> + +<li>St. Mawes, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li> + +<li>St. Mawgan, <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li> + +<li>St. Michael's Mount, <a href="#Page_35">35</a></li> + +<li>St. Piran, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> + +<li>Saints, <a href="#Page_99">99</a></li> + +<li>Saltash, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> + +<li>Scilly Isles, <a href="#Page_56">56</a></li> + +<li>Sennen, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li> + +<li>Sennen Cove, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li> + +<li>Serpentine Rock, <a href="#Page_66">66</a></li> + +<li>Seven Stones, <a href="#Page_56">56</a></li> + +<li>Slaughter Bridge, <a href="#Page_78">78</a></li> + +<li>Stamford, Earl of, <a href="#Page_107">107</a></li> + +<li>Stephen, King, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li> + +<li>Stratton, <a href="#Page_107">107</a></li> + +<li>Swan Pool, <a href="#Page_123">123</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Tamar River, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> + +<li>Tavy River, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> + +<li>Tol Pedn, <a href="#Page_61">61</a></li> + +<li>Treffrys, the, <a href="#Page_110">110</a></li> + +<li>Treryn Dinas, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a></li> + +<li>Trevalgue Head, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li> + +<li>Trevose Headland, <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li> + +<li>Truro, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Uther Pendragon, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Valleys, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></li> + +<li>Vell-an-Dreath, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Wadebridge, <a href="#Page_128">128</a></li> + +<li>Warbeck, Perkin, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_128">128</a></li> + +<li>Watergate Bay, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li> + +<li>Wesley, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a></li> + +<li>West Looe, <a href="#Page_119">119</a></li> + +<li>Whitesand Bay, <a href="#Page_58">58</a></li> + +<li>Wolf Lighthouse, <a href="#Page_53">53</a></li> + +<li>Wrangle Point, <a href="#Page_107">107</a></li> + +<li>Wrestling, <a href="#Page_143">143</a></li> +</ul> + +<ul class="IX"> +<li>Zennor, <a href="#Page_48">48</a></li> +</ul> + +<p class="center">THE END</p> + + +<p class="center">BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD, ENGLAND</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a href="images/combined_maps.jpg"> +<img src="images/combined_maps_s.jpg" width="600" height="488" alt="" /> +<span class="caption">SKETCH-MAP OF CORNWALL</span> +</a></div> + +<p class="transnote"> +<span class="large">Transcriber's note:</span><br /> +Inconsistent hyphenation has been left as written.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cornwall, by G. 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