Sir John Arundel
When the war broke out between Charles I. and his Parliament, Henry Killigrew was a member of the House. "I shall provide a good horse, a good buff coat, a good brace of pistols, and I doubt not I shall find a good cause," quoth he when Essex was appointed General and one and another were saying what troops they could raise; and so went out and rode post to Falmouth and plunged devotedly into the gallant struggle. He would not take any command, though he was in every action and always where there was the most danger. But it was an Arundell, not a Killigrew, who held Pendennis for the King, old John Arundell of Trerice, who as a young man had been at Tilbury when Queen Elizabeth reviewed the troops; and who was known as "Game to the Toes," "John for the King," and "Old Tilbury." To him came the unhappy Queen, Henrietta Maria, rested at Pendennis for a moment, and then winged her way back to France. A couple of years later her son, Charles, embarked here for the Scilly Isles; and shortly after, the news reached Arundell that after the conference on Tresillian Bridge the King's forces had been disbanded, and that the long struggle was over. Across the water Sir John grimly watched the surrender of St. Mawes, and when he found there were malcontents among his men, gave them a safe conduct and let them go. For himself, had he not fought at Edgehill, Lansdowne, and Bradock Down? Summoned to surrender he said he had but a few more days to live and he would not stain them with dishonour. To Fairfax he replied:
"Col. John Arundell to Sir Thomas Fairfax.
"Sir,—The castle was committed to my Government by his Majesty, who by our laws hath command of the castles and forts of this kingdom; and my age of seventy summons me hence shortly. Yet I shall desire no other testimony to follow my departure than my conscience to God and loyalty to his Majesty, whereto I am bound by all the obligations of nature, duty, and oath. I wonder you demand the castle without authority from his Majesty; which if I should render, I brand myself and my posterity with the indelible character of treason. And having taken less than two minutes resolution, I resolve that I will here bury myself before I deliver up this castle to such as fight against his Majesty, and that nothing you can threaten is formidable to me in respect of the loss of loyalty and conscience.
"Your servant,
"John Arundell,
"of Trerice.
"18th March, 1646."
Stout words from a stout heart; but though the castle, closely invested by land and sea, held out for five lean months and only surrendered on honourable terms, yet surrender it did; being the last place in England, with the one exception of Raglan, so to do. And on August 17, 1646, the garrison marched out "with their horses, complete arms, and other equipages, according to their present or past commands or qualities, with flying colours, trumpets sounding, drums beating, matches lighted at both ends, and bullets in their mouths." So great a stir had Sir John's defence made that not only did the House of Commons vote large sums to the messengers who brought the news that he had yielded, but September 22, 1646, was by their order set apart as a day of public thanksgiving for the surrender "of the garrisons of Pendennis and four other castles."
The Killigrews: Sir Walter Raleigh
Meanwhile Henry Killigrew, after the yielding of Pendennis, had been accidentally wounded in the head by the bursting of a carbine, while his kinsman's house in the neighbourhood had suffered from the exigencies of war. They were a stirring and a striving family, the Killigrews. The name Falmouth, in those days merely meant the land at the mouth of the Fal; and on this land, when Sir Walter Raleigh, just home from an expedition, stayed with the Killigrews at their house of Arwenack, there was only one other building large enough to accommodate his men. The Killigrews wished to develop their property. They said it was absurd that vessels had not a nearer port than Penryn or Truro; and Sir Walter having just put in to this fine natural harbour, saw the golden side of their suggestion; and cared not a jot about the loss of trade to those other towns. But Truro, Penryn, and Helston, alive to their own interests, had long thrown their weight into the opposition scale; and London was some seven days' journey to the east. Therefore the building operations of the sturdy Killigrews had been brought to a standstill.
It is easy to picture the scene. Sir Walter, after a good dinner, washed down by wines that had paid no duty, sitting at his ease before the windows of the great house, the panorama of hills and land-locked harbour stretching to the horizon, and the Killigrews pointing out its capabilities as a trading-centre and naval base! The great man listened, was convinced, and, presently moving on to London, laid the matter before his Sovereign.
It was the days of interest and influence—those days which, of course, are past and over, so that even kissing no longer goes by favour!—and the Killigrews found Sir Walter's advocacy gave them all they wanted, leave to build their big nest in their own way. From that date the opposition that had been so industriously fostered by the loyal burgesses of Truro, Penryn, and Helston ceased. Why Helston should have taken part is somewhat puzzling, but she may have been willing to help a pair of old friends against that "grove of eagles." At any rate the three towns were unable to accomplish anything further, and could only look on with glum faces while Falmouth went ahead. Greatly to their indignation Charles II., who remembered what good friends the Killigrews had been to him and his father, granted it a charter in 1661. As soon as they thought it would be safe, the Mayor of Truro asserted his claim to jurisdiction over the port and harbour of Falmouth, by sailing round the harbour to the Black Rock.