APPENDIX.—PART II
An Account of the First Celebration of the
KNILLIAN GAMES at St. IVES.
Alluded to at page [158] of this work.
We trust that our readers will find some amusement and relaxation, after the fatigue of their day's excursion, in the following Jeu d'Esprit, as originally written by an eye witness of the festivity; an institution which, adds the said writer, will go far to preserve the tone of the Cornish character, and which can never be neglected while the Cornish men continue to be brave, and the Cornish women to be virtuous.
The celebration of the Games at Olympia, after the revolution of every four years, formed the chief date of time among the Greeks; and perhaps in future the inhabitants of the West of England will reckon the years, as they pass, by the quinquennial return of the games at St. Ives.
I ought rather to have begun by stating, that John Knill, Esq. a gentleman formerly of great eminence in the above mentioned town, has bequeathed the income of a considerable estate to be distributed by the trustees in a variety of prizes to those who may excel in racing, in rowing, and in wrestling. A large sum is to be divided among a band of virgins, who are to be dressed all in white, and with four matrons, and a company of musicians preceding them, are to walk in pairs to the summit of the hill, which is near the town of St. Ives, where they are to dance and chaunt a hymn round the far famed mausoleum.
Ten guineas are appointed to be expended in a dinner at the grand hotel in the town, of which six of the principal inhabitants are to partake; and this festival is to be repeated every fifth year for ever.
From the earliest periods of history, the Cornish have been famous for their enthusiastic fondness of the athletic exercises of hurling, racing, wrestling, and rowing, and for the pious fervour of the hymns which the Druids instructed them to sing round the Cromlechs of the departed brave.
By establishing rewards for superiority in amusements in which the Cornish still delight to excel, Mr. Knill has shewn the patriotic feelings of his local attachments; while by the appropriate selection of the spot where these pastimes are to take place, he has given ample proof of the correctness of his taste. The enormous statue of Jupiter at Elis pointed out that part of Peloponnesus to the taste of the Greeks, as the most proper place for the celebration of the Olympic Games; and a sympathy of feeling and sentiment induced Mr. Knill to order that the Mausoleum, which he erected in the year 1782 should be the centre of the quinquennial festivities. This proud pyramid, whose base is situated on the summit of a rock, and whose apex is often concealed among the clouds, has hitherto formed only an object of ornamental magnificence, or a guide to the tempest tost mariner; but henceforth it will be regarded as the monument of fame—the pillar of the west—the Cornish column!
Monday last was the day appointed for the first celebration. I was present at the scene, and am induced to think, from this first specimen, that the rites of the hill will be celebrated in succeeding years with increased fervour and renewed admiration. Weak as my powers of description are, your readers may, perhaps, from the following account, conceive some idea of the interesting spectacle.
Early in the morning the roads from Helston, from Truro, and from Penzance, were lined with horses and vehicles of every description. These were seen amidst clouds of dust, pouring down the sides of the adjacent mountains; while thousands of travellers on foot chose the more pleasant route through the winding passages of the vallies. At noon the assembly was formed. The wrestlers entered the ring;—the troop of virgins dressed, all in white, advanced with solemn step, which was regulated by the notes of harmony. The spectators ranged themselves along the sides of the hills which inclose the extensive bay, while the pyramid on the summit seemed pointing to the sun, who appeared in all the majesty of light, rejoicing at the scene.
At length the Mayor of Saint Ives appeared in his robes of state. The signal was given. The flags were displayed in waving splendour from the towers of the castle. Here the wrestlers exerted their sinewy strength; there the rowers, in their various dresses of blue, white, and red, urged the gilded prows of their boats through the sparkling waves of the ocean; while the hills echoed to the mingled shouts of the victors, the dashing of the oars, the songs of the virgins, and the repeated plaudits of the admiring crowd, who stood so thick upon the crescent, which is formed by the surrounding mountains, as to appear, if I may so express myself, one living amphitheatre.
The ladies and gentlemen of Penzance returned to an elegant dinner which they had ordered to be prepared at the Union Hotel; and a splendid ball concluded the entertainment of the evening. The jolly god presided,—but a reproving smile from Venus restrained him, if he ventured beyond the due bounds of decorum. Hilarity and beauty danced to the most delicious notes of harmony; till the rosy finger of Aurora pointed to the hour at which the quinquennial festivities should close. Perhaps to many the visions of the night brought back the joys of the day, and the feet danced, the heart throbbed, and the cheek glowed, when the eye-lids were closed in sleep.
A SONG,
Written by one of the Head Poets of London for Mr. Knill's
Games at Saint Ives.
(To the tune of "Boys and Girls come out to play.")
Sung at the Mausoleum, by a Minstrel adorned with Ribbons.
Knill commands, and all obey,
Lads and Lasses haste away,
Aunts and Uncles,[142] Maids and Wives,
All are gay, at gay St. Ives.
No tongue is mute or foot is still,
But One and All[143] are on the hill,
In chorus round the tomb of Knill.
This you surely may rely on,
Paul, Penzance, nor Marazion,
Never saw in all their lives
Such sport as now is at St. Ives.
No tongue, &c.
Some in gigs and coaches flocking,
Some without or shirt or stocking,
All are crowding—not a hack
But has three upon his back.
No tongue, &c.
Of Virgins pure—(let envy squint,
And malice sneer, there's nothing in't)
Of Virgins pure a throng advance,
And round the tomb in circles dance.
No tongue, &c.
Boys on gingerbread are feeding,
Cudgel-broken pates are bleeding;
Races running, Wrestlers falling,
Bones are cracking, women squalling.
No tongue, &c.
Thro' the breaking wave below,
Rowers urge the bounding prow;
While many a Tub and many a Ray[144]
Sport around in finny play.
No tongue, &c.
All are running—what's the matter?
Why, to see the fine Regatta.
Earth and water, hill and bay,
Share the frolic of the day.
No tongue, &c.
Oh! it glads the heart to see e'm
Gamble round the Mausoleum.
All is joy: and laughter shakes
All the merry land of Hakes.[145]
No tongue, &c.
What a pother! what a deal is
Talk'd about the games at Elis:
Such as they—no not a million
Equal what we call the Knillian.
No tongue, &c.
Knill commands, and all obey,
Lads and lasses haste away,
All the world and all his wives.
What was Greece to gay St. Ives!!
No tongue is mute, no foot is still,
But One and All are on the hill
In chorus round the tomb of Knill.
An appropriate Chorus to be sung round the Tomb by the Virgins.
Quit the bustle of the Bay,
Hasten, Virgins, come away;
Hasten to the mountain's brow,
Leave, oh! leave St. Ives below!
Haste to breathe a purer air
Virgins fair, and pure as fair.
Quit St. Ives and all her treasures,
Fly her soft voluptuous pleasures,
Fly her sons and all the wiles,
Lurking in their wanton smiles;
Fly her splendid midnight halls,
Fly the revels of her Balls;
Fly, oh! fly the chosen seat,
Where vanity and fashion meet.
Hither hasten; form the ring,
Round the tomb in chorus sing,
And on the lofty mountain's brow
Aptly dite,
(Just as we should be, all in white)
Leave all our Cowels,[146] and our cares below.