A word with regard to the innumerable crosses and churches.
At an early date in the history of Christianity, saints from the neighbouring countries of Brittany, Ireland and Wales appear to have poured into Cornwall. Some floated over on their altar-stones—a poetical way of saying they brought the said stones with them—others on a miraculous leaf, i.e., a coracle, while yet others appear to have walked! On arrival they found a large number of upright slabs and boulders, relics of an earlier creed and vanished race. With the sensible early-Christian habit of turning everything to account they soon invented a history and found a use for the stones.
On a lonely moorland these big menhirs made excellent way-marks; by some—possibly blocks that tradition accounted holy—the saints built their oratories, others they carved into rude crosses, and others they used as a centre about which to gather the countrypeople for service. As the local preaching-place, these last stones, like the oratories themselves, thus became the forerunners of the parish churches.
One reason for the multiplicity of these crosses—and unless those at any place should be exceptional, they will not be mentioned—may be found in the will of a certain Dr. Mertherderwa who, dying in 1447, directed that "new stone crosses are to be put up of the usual kind in those parts of Cornwall from Kayar Beslasek to Camborne Church, where dead bodies are rested on their way to burial, that prayers may be made and the bearers take some rest."
There are six different kinds of crosses. Upright slabs with a Latin cross front and back; Round-headed crosses; Holed crosses, of which only twenty-seven instances are known; Latin crosses, Gothic crosses and ornamented crosses.
The Churches
When Cornwall built her innumerable small but beautiful churches, that is to say from the thirteenth (and earlier) to the sixteenth century, she showed that an ornate and vivid ritual was to her taste. She objected to and resisted the Reformation, and on its becoming an established fact went peacefully to sleep, as far as religion was concerned, until the arrival of John Wesley. As a consequence very few of the churches are modern, and most of them have Norman remains—some antiquarians even say Saxon—and a good deal of old carved oak in benches, screens, and roofs. Some of this carving is of considerable merit, and the same may be said, though more doubtfully, of the numerous frescoes; but unless the mural paintings and bench ends are in some way remarkable they will not be insisted on, nor will the Norman and other survivals in the architecture be discussed.
The Plan of the Book
The roads from Launceston and from Saltash to the Land's End—and the main roads of Cornwall are excellent, as good as any in England—go as far as possible by way of the towns. The rivers, too, are no great matter, in fact precisians have maintained that there are none. The Tamar, which best deserves the name, was fixed as the eastern boundary by Athelstane in 926, while the Fal and Helford Rivers are mainly sea creeks, and the Camel and Fowey which until they become estuaries are never wider than a man, provided with a pole, can leap, are really only brooks of a fine and Tennysonian quality.
Undoubtedly then the way to see Cornwall is to follow the country roads that lead along the shore, beginning at the north where the coach crosses the border on its way from Clovelly Dykes to Bude, and ending at the Tamar. There would then remain only the reaches of that lovely river, the moorland, and what nooks and corners are to be found off the highways that run through the middle of the county.