On the south side of the churchyard—as in so many along this ruthless coast—are the graves of wrecked sailors; and Hawker, a great-hearted man and to some extent a poet, was foremost in rendering the last kind offices to the dead. Over forty men, the crews of three lost vessels, lie here, while the figurehead by one lot of graves is that of the brig Caledonia from Arbroath in Scotland. No wonder ships give these stupendous cliffs as wide a berth as possible. An occasional steamer is sighted, some tramp in search of cargo goes hurrying by, but, as a rule, the wide expanse is empty of surface life, a fact which is both noticeable and suggestive.
On a spot where he had seen the lambs sheltering from wind and weather, Mr. Hawker built the vicarage. With one of his personality as architect, it was impossible it should quite resemble any other manse; therefore it is not surprising to find that in the chimney-stacks he has reproduced the forms of certain church towers that he admired, while inset over the doorway is the distich:
"A house, a glebe, a pound a day,
A pleasant place to watch and pray,
Be true to Church, be kind to poor,
O Minister for evermore!"
Tonacombe and Stowe
Not far from Morwenstow lie—or rather did lie, for though Tonacombe still preserves its original design, Stowe, near Coombe Valley, the home of the Grenvilles, was unfortunately destroyed in 1715—two old manor-houses. The former, which was built in the fifteenth century, has a fine stone-floored hall with timbered roof, old open fireplace, and minstrel's gallery. Some of the rooms, which have lattice windows, are panelled, and Charles Kingsley stayed in this "in some respects the most remarkable mediæval house in the west of England," while he was writing "Westward Ho."
Of far greater interest, however, is Stowe (Anglo-Saxon for a stockaded place), at one time a magnificent building. Of it only the moat remains, but when Sir Beville rose for Charles I., many a Cornishman, who in his boyhood had stayed at Stowe, practising arms under the eye of Anthony Payne, rose with him.
The Battle of Stamford Hill
To Stratton, a little south of Stowe, came in 1643 the Parliamentarian General, Lord Stamford. The cavaliers, not then very prosperous, but gallant gentlemen all, were lying at Launceston, and the Roundhead made the mistake of underestimating their strength. Sir Ralph Hopton and Sir Beville Grenville marched the twenty miles from the capital town without more food than a few biscuits. Intent on intercepting and driving out the intruder, they found when they reached Stratton late in the evening that he had entrenched himself strongly on a neighbouring hill. As he had the advantage in numbers, having about twice as many men and must know that they were tired, hungry, and in poor condition, the Royalists stood to their arms through the short May night in momentary expectation of an attack. Their leaders were at one of the Poughill cottages—they bear date 1620 and are still to be seen—and Sir Beville, while he waited anxiously, must have wondered how it had gone with wife and children, over above in the moated and stockaded house of Stowe.
Lord Stamford, however, did not take advantage of his enemy's weariness. No doubt he thought it would be more convenient, as the country was unknown to him, to scatter the little force by daylight. At any rate he sat still on the top of the hill and did nothing. In the grey dawn, therefore, the Royalists, the fiercer for their hunger and sleeplessness, decided not to wait any longer. Since he would not come down they must go up. Dashingly they attacked his entrenchment, doggedly they continued the fight. After nine hours of it, word was passed round that their scanty store of ammunition had come to an end. But they were nothing daunted. Grimly and in a strange silence they made the last assault; and this time were successful, the leaders of the four narrow columns meeting at the top of the hill. As they did so, Lord Stamford, who had looked on from a safe distance, set spurs to his horse, and fled headlong. Cornwall was won for King Charles, and from the battlefield Francis Basset of Tehidy could write to his wife "Dearest soule, ring out the bells, raise bonfires, publish these joyful tidings."
A year or two later, however, Stratton told a different tale. Cornwall might in the main be Royalist, but all England was for a change in the government; and presently Lord Essex, driving Sir Richard Grenville—a brother of Sir Beville—before him, crossed the Tamar and stormed the house at Stowe. It was the beginning of evil days. In 1646 Hopton, the Royalist General, retired to Stratton with a broken, dispirited and, alas! disorderly army, and from thence Sir Thomas Fairfax drove him back across the pass at Wadebridge which Cromwell—it is the only mention of him in Cornish annals—was sent to secure.