Among these rough cliffs are sudden smiling valleys, but the moors are disfigured by a number of mine workings that have ceased to pay, and the ruins of which add to the desolation of the scene. A little above St. Just are three celebrated mines: Wheal Owles, into which the sea broke and which is now only the tomb of the eighteen men who were then working in her; Botallack, visited by King Edward and Queen Alexandra in 1865, while Prince and Princess of Wales, but no longer working; and Levant, exploited for tin, copper, and arsenic, and still employing several hundred men. The workings of this mine run for nearly a mile under the sea, and the men say that on stormy days the noise over their heads is terrific. These men live at St. Just, a mining town in the old church of which are some frescoes—St. George about to slay the dragon before Cleodolinda and her comrades, and Christ surrounded by the symbols of various trades. Of greater interest perhaps is the Plan-an-Guare, 126 ft. in diameter and with the remains of six tiers of seats. This rural amphitheatre is still sometimes used as a place of assembly and was once no doubt utilised for miracle plays, but who constructed it and for what purpose is lost in the mists of antiquity. Not far from the Plan-an-Guare is Kenidjack Cliff (the howling wind), a "hooting cairn" regarded by the superstitious country side as haunted by more than natural sounds. During the construction on it of butts for rifle practice, some twenty to thirty pieces of pure copper were found under stones which were probably the remains of an old building. The purity of the copper points to this hoard having been the property of a founder of tools or weapons belonging to the Bronze Age, and no doubt this founder was a workman of some importance in the district. The story connected with him has been forgotten, the fact that he ever existed has passed, but about the place still clings that old fear of the weapon-maker, whose every-day task it was to forge the mysterious givers of death.
Sancreed
It is a far journey from a "hooting cairn" to the pettiness of the social struggle, even though the struggle was for a precedence which has passed out of fashion. In Bishop Sparrow's report of July 1671, on Sancreed Church, a curious state of affairs came to light, for the parish was quarrelling over precedence in church sittings! "One John Adams of mean estate and fortune" had actually seated himself higher up than "those who are of the Twelve of the parish and their wives," and great had been the scandal. Also one Francis Lanyon, who had married "into a very worthy family," his wife, if you please, being niece to Colonel Godolphin, was without "a convenient seat." Sancreed has an old rood screen (or rather part of one), of which Sedding says: "I know of no finer specimen elsewhere in the county. Like so much old Cornish work it is more than local; it is purely parochial."
Its neighbour, St. Buryan, is also celebrated for its screen, which was, however, seriously injured by the vicar in 1814. From what remains, it would appear to have been exceptionally beautiful, carved, coloured, gilt, and of opulent and bold workmanship. This church stands high, 400 ft. above the sea; and about a mile distant are the remains of what is believed to be the oratory of St. Buryan. The story goes that first Egbert in 813 fought a battle here at Bolleit (place of blood) and later Athelstane in 926. There is no historical evidence for either battle, but tradition is a smoke under which a little flame may generally be found. At any rate, a battle was fought and the conqueror, standing on this high land, saw afar off the Scillies, and realised that there were yet worlds to conquer. So pleased was he, that he vowed, if successful, to found a college for priests on this high land, and so the church of St. Buryan came into being.
Lighthouses and Whitesand Bay
A mile and a half off the Land's End is the Longships Lighthouse. Built on a rock 70 ft. above low water and itself 55 ft. high, its top is yet often buried in the spray and the lanthorn broken. Further out, on the Wolf Rock, is another lighthouse; while off the Seven Stones, dangerous rocks between the mainland and the Scillies, is a lightship moored in forty fathoms of water, but in such an exposed position that it has before now been driven from its moorings.
But there were neither lighthouses nor lightships on these rocks when Athelstane landed at Whitesand Bay on his return from the conquered Scillies. Even now it is an ugly bit of water to traverse, and it must have been worse then. He was probably glad enough to see the great stretch of white sand with Sennen Cove lying in the midst thereof like an emerald set in silver. Later the bay acquired a bad reputation. So far from the madding crowd, so secret and so storm-beaten, it gave evil-doers a sense of security. Who would dare to venture after them among these rocks and clefts? Corsairs, pirates, smugglers, each in turn made use of the white beach. Thither came Perkin Warbeck in 1497 with his four little barques and six score men; thither John Lackland when seeking to dispossess his trusting brother of the realm; thither Stephen, the oath-breaker, who was, however, none so bad a king. Rough are the winds and rougher still the seas that beat upon this lovely bay, and it is a little puzzling why these and other personages should have chosen it as a landing-place.
The Land's End
Alas for romance, this same Land's End is but a low and unimpressive rock which, like the blunt head of some titanic animal, thrusts a grey muzzle into the water. It is only 60 ft. high, yet this is the last stone, the last bit of land, the ultimate west, this west that appeals so strongly to the Cornishman abroad:
"There's never a wave upon western beaches
Falls and fades to a wreath of foam
But takes at the last a voice that reaches
Over the distance and calls me home."
Lowry.