From John O'Groats to Land's End Part 66

The old church of St. Buryan was said to be named after Buriena, the beautiful daughter of a Munster chieftain, supposed to be the Bruinsech of the Donegal martyrology, who came to Cornwall in the days of St.

Piran. There were two ancient crosses at Buryan, one in the village and the other in the churchyard, while in the church was the thirteenth-century, coffin-shaped tomb of "Clarice La Femme Cheffroi De Bolleit," bearing an offer of ten days' pardon to whoever should pray for her soul. But just then we were more interested in worldly matters; and when, after we had refreshed ourselves in a fairly substantial way, our friend told us he would take us to see a "Giant's Castle," we went on our way rejoicing, to regain the sea-coast where the castle was to be seen, but not before the driver had made another frantic effort to induce us to ride in his trap.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE "KEIGWIN ARMS," MOUSEHOLE. "They (the Spaniards) also burnt Mousehole, with the exception of one public house, a house still standing, with walls four feet thick and known as the 'Keigwin Arms.'"]

The castle of Treryn, which our friend p.r.o.nounced Treen, was situated on a small headland jutting out into the sea, but only the triple vallum and fosse of the castle remained. The walls had been built of huge boulders, and had once formed the cyclopian castle of Treryn. Cyclops, our friend explained, was one of a number of giants who had each only one eye, and that in the centre of the forehead. Their business was to forge the iron for Vulcan, the G.o.d of fire. They could see to work in mines or dark places, for their one eye was as big as a moon. Sometimes they were workers in stone, who erected their buildings chiefly in Europe and Asia, and their huge blocks of stone were worked so nicely that they fitted together without mortar. Treryn Castle was the stronghold of a giant who was stronger than most of the other giants who lived in those parts, and was, in addition, a necromancer or sorcerer, in communication with the spirits of the dead, by whose aid he raised this castle by enchantment from the depths of the sea. It was therefore an enchanted castle, and was kept in its position by a spell, a magic key, which the giant placed in a hole in a rock on the seacoast, still named the Giant's Lock. Whenever this key, which was a large round stone, could be taken out of the lock, the castle and the promontory on which it stood would disappear beneath the sea to the place from whence it came. Very few people had seen the key, because its hiding-place was in such a very dangerous position that scarcely any one was courageous enough to venture to the lock that held it. To reach the lock it was necessary to wait for a low tide, and then to walk along a ledge in the side of the rock scarcely wide enough for the pa.s.sage of a small animal, where in the event of a false step the wanderer would be certain to be dashed to pieces on the rocks below. At the end of this dangerous path there was a sharp projecting rock in which was a hole wide enough for a man's hand and arm to pa.s.s down, and at the bottom of the hole he could feel a rather large but smooth stone in the shape of an egg, which he could easily move in any direction. Then all he had to do further was to draw it out through the hole; but the difficulty was that the stone was larger than the aperture, and the mystery was who placed it there.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROCKS NEAR LAND'S END.]

The dangerous nature of the approach, in addition to the difficulty of getting back again, was quite sufficient to deter any of us from making the attempt; even if we gained possession of the magic key we might have been taken, with it and the castle and promontory, to the enchanted regions below, so we decided to refrain, for after all there was the desirability of reaching home again!

It was a very wild place, and the great rocks and boulders were strongly suggestive of giants; but our friend would not have us linger, as we must go to see the famous Logan Rock. In order to save time and risk, he suggested that we should secure the services of a professional guide. We could see neither guides nor houses, and it looked like a forlorn hope to try to find either, but, asking us to stay where we were until he came back, our friend disappeared; and some time afterwards he reappeared from some unknown place, accompanied by an intelligent sailorlike man whom he introduced to us as the guide. The guide led us by intricate ways over stone walls, stepped on either side with projecting stones to do duty as stiles, and once or twice we walked along the top of the walls themselves, where they were broad enough to support a footpath. Finally we crossed what appeared to be a boundary fence, and immediately afterwards found ourselves amongst a wilderness of stones and gigantic boulders, with the roar of the waves as they beat on the rocks below to keep us company.

It was a circuitous and intricate course by which our guide conducted us, up and down hill, and one not altogether free from danger, and we had many minor objects to see before reaching the Logan Rock, which was the last of all. Every precaution was taken to prevent any accident at dangerous places on our way. Amongst other objects our guide pointed to the distant views of the Lizard Point, the Wolf Rock Lighthouse, and the Runnel Stone Bell Buoy, and immediately below us was the Porthcurnow Bay and beach. Then there were some queerly shaped rocks named the Castle Peak, the "Tortoise," the "Pig's Mouth," all more or less like the objects they represented, and, as a matter of course, the giants were also there. Our guide insisted upon our sitting in the Giant's Chair, where King Arthur, he said, had sat before us. It was no easy matter to climb into the chair, and we had to be a.s.sisted by sundry pushes from below; but once in it we felt like monarchs of all we surveyed, and the view from that point was lovely. Near by was the Giant's Bowl, and finally the Giant's Grave, an oblong piece of land between the rocks, which my brother measured in six long strides as being eighteen feet in length. The Logan or Swinging Stone was estimated to weigh about eighty tons, and although it was quite still when we reached it, we were easily able to set it moving. It was a block of granite, and continued to oscillate for some little time, but formerly it was said that it could not be moved from its axis by force. This led to a foolish bet being made by Lieutenant Goldsmith of the Royal Navy, who landed with his boat's crew on April 8th, 1824, and with the united exertions of nine men with handspikes, and excessive vibration, managed to slide the great stone from its equilibrium. This so roused the anger of the Cornish people that the Admiralty were obliged to make Mr. Goldsmith--who, by the way, was a nephew of Oliver Goldsmith, the author of the _Vicar of Wakefield_--replace the stone in its former position, which, owing to its immense weight and almost inaccessible situation, was a most difficult and costly thing to do. Mr. Davies Gilbert persuaded the Lords of the Admiralty to lend the necessary apparatus from Pymouth Dockyard, and was said to have paid some portion of the cost; but after the a.s.sistance of friends, and two collections throughout the Royal Navy, Goldsmith had to pay quite 600 personally, and came out of the transaction a sadder, wiser, and poorer man.

Like other stones of an unusual character, the Logan Rock was thought to have some medicinal properties, and parents formerly brought their children to be rocked on the stone to cure their diseases; but the charm was said to have been broken by the removal of the stone, which did not afterwards oscillate as freely as before. It was reinstated in its former position on November 2nd, 1824. We also saw the Ladies' Logan Rock, weighing nine tons, which could easily be moved. In a rather dangerous portion of the rocks we came to a "wishing pa.s.sage," through which it was necessary to walk backwards to obtain the fulfilment of a wish--doubtless in the case of nervous people that they might get away from the rocks again in safety.

The rocks hereabouts are very vividly coloured at certain times of the year, and in the spring are covered with lichens and turf, with blossoms of the blue scilla.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE LOGAN ROCK.]

Porthcurnow, which runs a short distance into the rocky coast, is one of Cornwall's most picturesque little bays. Round the foot of the rocks we saw what appeared to be a fringe of white sand, which at first sight we thought must have been left there by the Giant Tregeagle, as it was part of his task to sweep the sands from Porthcurnow Cove; but we ascertained that what we thought was white sand was in reality a ma.s.s of extremely small sh.e.l.ls. The surface of the rocks above abounded with golden furze, which in summer, mingled with purple heather, formed a fine contrast. In the background was a small and dismal-looking valley known locally as the "Bottoms," which was often obscured by mists rising from the marshes below, and which few people cared to cross after nightfall. It was near the "Bottoms" that a mysterious stranger took up his abode many years ago. He was accompanied by an evil-looking foreign man-servant, who never spoke to any one except his master--probably because he was unable to speak English. No one knew where these strange people had come from, but they kept a boat in the cove, in which they used to start off to sea early in the morning and disappear in the distance, never returning until dead of night. Sometimes when the weather was stormy they remained out all night. Occasionally, but only on stormy and dark nights, they stayed on sh.o.r.e, and then they went hunting on the moors, whence the cry of their hounds was often heard in the midnight hours.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ROCKY COAST NEAR LAND'S END.]

At length the mysterious stranger died and was buried, the coffin being carried to the grave followed by the servant and the dogs. As soon as the grave was filled in with earth the servant and the dogs suddenly disappeared, and were never heard of again, while at the same time the boat vanished from the cove.

Since this episode a ghostly vessel had occasionally appeared in the night, floating through the midnight air from the direction of the sea--a black, square-rigged, single-masted barque, sometimes with a small boat, at other times without, but with no crew visible. The apparition appeared on the sea about nightfall, and sailed through the breakers that foamed over the dangerous rocks that fringed the sh.o.r.e, gliding over the sands and through the mist that covered the "Bottoms,"

and proceeding in awful silence and mystery to the pirate's grave, where it immediately disappeared; and it is an ill omen to those who see that ghostly vessel, the sight of which forebodes misfortune!

It was near St. Levan's Church that the stranger was buried, but when this happened was beyond record. St. Levan himself appeared to have been a fisherman, but only for food, not sport; the valley in his day was not the dreary place it was now, for gra.s.s and flowers sprang up in his footsteps and made a footpath from his church to the sea. He only caught one fish each day, as that was sufficient for his frugal meal. One evening, however, when he was fishing, he felt a strong pull at his line, and on drawing it up found two fish (bream) on his hook. As he only needed one and desired to be impartial and not to favour one more than the other, he threw them both into the sea. Then he threw his line in afresh, and again they both came on the hook, and were again thrown back; but when they came a third time, St. Levan thought there must be some reason for this strange adventure, and carried them home. On reaching his house he found his sister St. Breaze and her two children had come to visit him, and he was glad then that he had brought the two fish, which were cooked for supper. The children were very hungry, as they had walked a long distance, and ate fast and carelessly, so that a bone stuck in the throat of each and killed them!

St. Levan must have been a strong man, for he once split a rock by striking it with his fist, and then prophesied:

When with panniers astride A pack-horse can ride Through St. Levan's stone The world will be done.

The stone was still to be seen, and in the fissure made by the saint the flowers and ferns were still growing; but there did not appear to be any danger of the immediate fulfilment of the saint's prophecy!

[Ill.u.s.tration: SENNEN CHURCH.]

We now walked on to one of the finest groups of rocks in the country, named "Tol-Peden-Penwith"--a great ma.s.s of granite broken and shattered into the most fantastic forms and wonderfully picturesque. It formed the headland round which Tregeagle had to carry the sand, and the remainder of the coast from there to Land's End and beyond formed similar scenery. We were quite enraptured with the wild beauty of the different headlands and coves pointed out to us by our friend; but suddenly he saw a church tower in the distance, and immediately our interest in the lovely coast scenery faded away and vanished, for our friend, pointing towards the tower, said he knew a public-house in that direction where he had recently had a first-cla.s.s tea. We all three hurried away across stone fences towards the place indicated until we reached a road, and we had just turned off on coming to a junction, when we heard a stentorian voice in the distance saying, "Hi! That's not the way!" We had forgotten all about the driver for the moment, but there he was in another road a few fields away, so we shouted and motioned to him to follow us, and we all had tea together while his horse was stabled in the inn yard. The tea, for which we were quite ready, was a good one, and when we had finished we walked on to the Land's End, giving our driver an idea of the probable time we should be ready for him there.

The name of the village was Sennen, and near the church was a large stone 8 feet long and 3 feet wide, said to have been the table-stone at which seven Saxon kings once dined. An old historian gave their names as Ethelbert V, King of Kent; Cissa II, King of the South Saxons; Kinigils, King of the West Saxons; Sebert, King of Ess.e.x or the East Saxons; Ethelfred, King of Northumbria; Penda, King of Mercia; and Sigebert V, King of East Anglia. It was also supposed that King Alfred had on one occasion dined at the same stone after defeating the Danes at Vellandruacher.

The mile or so of moorland over which we now walked to the Land's End must have looked very beautiful earlier in the year, as the gorse or furze was mingled with several varieties of heather which had displayed large bell-formed blooms of various colours, and there had been other flowers in addition. Even at this late period of the year sufficient combination of colour remained to give us an idea how beautiful it must have appeared when at its best. From some distance away we could see the whitewashed wall of a house displaying in large black letters the words: "THE FIRST AND LAST HOUSE IN ENGLAND," and this we found to be an inn.

Here we were practically at the end of our walk of 1,372 miles, which had extended over a period of nine weeks. We had pa.s.sed through many dangers and hardships, and a feeling of thankfulness to the Almighty was not wanting on our part as we found ourselves at the end. We had still to cross a narrow neck of land which was just wide enough at the top for a footpath, while almost immediately below we could hear the sea thundering on each side of us. As we cautiously walked across in single file our thoughts were running on the many Cornish saints in whose footsteps we might now be treading, and on King Arthur and the Giant Tregeagle, when our friend, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped and told us we were now on the spot where Charles Wesley stood when he composed a memorable verse which still appeared in one of his hymns:

Lo! on a narrow neck of land, 'Twixt two unbounded seas I stand Secure, insensible; A point of time, a moment's s.p.a.ce, Removes me to that heavenly place Or shuts me up in h.e.l.l.

As we were crossing the narrow path we had not thought of the Wesleys as being amongst the Cornish saints; but where was there a greater saint than John Wesley? and how much does Cornwall owe to him! He laboured there abundantly, and laid low the shades of the giants and the saints whom the Cornish people almost worshipped before he came amongst them, and in the place of these shadows he planted the better faith of a simple and true religion, undefiled and that fadeth not away!

We must own to a shade of disappointment when we reached the last stone and could walk no farther--a feeling perhaps akin to that of Alexander the Great, who, when he had conquered the known world, is said to have sighed because there were no other worlds to conquer. But this feeling soon vanished when with a rush came the thoughts of those dear friends at home who were anxiously awaiting the return of their loved ones whom they had lost awhile, and it was perhaps for their sakes as well as our own that we did not climb upon the last stone or ledge or rock that overhung the whirl of waters below: where the waters of the two Channels were combining with those of the great Atlantic.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ENYS-DODNAN, ARMED KNIGHT, AND LONGSHIPS.]

We placed our well-worn sticks, whose work like our own was done, on the rock before us, with the intention of throwing them into the sea, but this we did not carry out.

We stood silent and spell-bound, for beyond the Longships Lighthouse was the setting sun, which we watched intently as it slowly disappeared behind some black rocks in the far distance. It was a solemn moment, for had we not started with the rising sun on a Monday morning and finished with the setting sun on a Sat.u.r.day night? It reminded us of the beginning and ending of our own lives, and especially of the end, as the shadows had already begun to fall on the great darkening waters before us. Was it an ancient mariner, or a long-forgotten saint, or a presentiment of danger that caused my brother to think he heard a far-away whisper as if wafted over the sea?

[Ill.u.s.tration: LONGSHIPS LIGHTHOUSE, LAND'S END.]

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.

HOMEWARD BOUND

(BY MR. ROBERT NAYLOR)

We retraced our steps to the "First and Last House in England," where we found our driver waiting for us with his conveyance, which we had now time to examine, and found to be a light, rickety, two-wheeled cart of ancient but durable construction, intended more for use than ornament, and equivalent to the more northern shandrydan or shandry. The strong board which formed the seat was placed across the conveyance from one side to the other a few inches below the top-rail, and would slide to any point required between the front and back of the trap, the weight of the driver or other pa.s.sengers holding it in its place. It would only hold three persons, including the driver. The first difficulty that presented itself, however, was the fact that we were not sufficiently provided with warm clothing to face the twelve-mile drive to Penzance in the cold night air; but, fortunately, our friend had an overcoat which had been brought out by the driver; so after a short consultation we arranged that I should sit between the driver and our friend, a comparatively warm position, while my brother sat on the floor of the conveyance, where there was a plentiful supply of clean dry straw, with his face towards the horse and his back supported by the backboard of the trap, where our presence on the seat above him would act as a screen from the wind.

After arranging ourselves as comfortably as possible in our rather novel positions, with which we were rather pleased than otherwise, we proceeded on our way at a brisk speed, for our horse was quite fresh and showed no disposition to loiter on the road, since like ourselves he was on his way home.

Lighting regulations for vehicles were not in force in those days, and conveyances such as ours carried no lights even on the darkest night; but with a total absence of trees, and lighted by the first quarter of the new moon, we expected to reach Penzance before the night became really dark.

The conversation as we pa.s.sed into the open country was carried on by the three of us in front, as my brother could not join in it owing to his position; and we had just turned towards him with the jocular remark, "How are you getting on down there?" and had received his reply, "All right!" when, with scarcely a moment's warning, we met with an accident which might have killed him and seriously injured ourselves. We suddenly crashed into a heavy waggon drawn by two horses, the first wheel of the waggon striking dead against ours. The force of the collision caused our seat to slide backwards against my brother, pinning him against the backboard of the cart, but, fortunately for him, our driver, who had retained his hold on his reins, jumped up at the same moment and relieved the pressure, so that he had only the weight of two men against him instead of three.

Meantime all was confusion, and it was a case of every one for himself; but the only man who was equal to the occasion was our driver, who with one hand pulled his horse backwards almost as quickly as the other horses came forward, and with his whip in the other hand slashed furiously at the face of the waggoner, who was seated on the wide board in front of his waggon fast asleep and, as it afterwards appeared, in a state of intoxication.

Our conveyance was on its proper side of the road and quite near the fence, so that our friend jumped out of it on the land above, quickly followed by myself, and, rapidly regaining the road, we ran towards the horses attached to the waggon and stopped them.

A tremendous row now followed between the waggoner, who was a powerfully built man, and our driver, and the war of words seemed likely to lead to blows; but my brother, whom in the excitement of the moment we had quite forgotten, now appeared upon the scene in rather a dazed condition, and, hearing the altercation going on, advanced within striking distance of the waggoner. I could see by the way he held his cudgel that he meant mischief if the course of events had rendered it necessary, but the blood on the waggoner's face showed he had been severely punished already.

Seeing that he was hopelessly outnumbered, the waggoner, who was almost too drunk to understand what had happened, became a little quieter and gave us his name, and we copied the name of the miller who employed him from the name-plate on the waggon, giving similar information to the driver concerning ourselves; but as we heard nothing further about the matter, we concluded the case was settled out of court.

We all congratulated my brother on his almost providential escape from what might have been a tragic ending to his long walk. He had told me he had a foreboding earlier in the evening that something was about to happen to him. From the position in which he was seated in the bottom of the trap he could not see anything before him except the backs of the three men sitting above, and he did not know what was happening until he thought he saw us tumbling upon him and myself jumping in the air over a bush.

He described it in the well-known words of Sir Walter Scott:

The heart had hardly time to think.

The eyelid scarce had time to wink.

The squeeze, as he called it, had left its marks upon him, as his chest was bruised in several places, and he was quite certain that if we had slid backwards another half-inch on our seat in the trap we should have finished him off altogether--for the back of the trap had already been forced outwards as far as it would go. He felt the effects of the accident for a long time afterwards.

We complimented our driver on his wonderful presence of mind and on the way he had handled his horse under the dangerous conditions which had prevailed. But we must needs find the smithy, for we dared not attempt to ride in our conveyance until it had been examined. The wheel had been rather seriously damaged, and other parts as well, but after some slight repairs it was so patched up as to enable us to resume our journey, with a caution from the blacksmith to drive slowly and with great care.

We arrived at Penzance safely, but much later than we had expected, and after paying our driver's fee together with a handsome donation, we adjourned with our friend to the hotel for a substantial dinner and to talk about our adventure until bedtime. When bidding us "good night,"

our friend informed us that, as he had an engagement in the country some miles away, we should not see him on the next day, but he promised to visit us after his return to Liverpool. This he did, and we saw him on several occasions in after years when, owing to unforeseen circ.u.mstances, we found ourselves, like him, in the timber trade.