Near Trewithian is an ancient earthwork called Dingerein, and believed to be Geraint's dwelling-place, the "Dyvnaint" of the song. When he died his body was carried in a golden boat with silver oars across the bay to Pendower beach, and buried with the boat on the hill above, while over it was raised the cairn known as Veryan Beacon. It was believed also that some day he would rise up in his armour and sail away in that glorious boat. This tradition has been found in several places. Men who lived with a vital awe-inspiring king found it difficult to believe that such a flame could be extinguished. He had vanished into the surrounding darkness, but none the less, thought they, he must be somewhere, somewhere whence he could, nay surely would, return. This belief would probably be fostered by his successor. If he were a child or weakling, the people would hesitate to be disloyal, for fear of what would befall them when the mightier father returned.
The great tumulus at Carne was opened in 1855, and within was found a kist-vaen of unhewn stones, covered with limestone boulders; but in the kist were only ashes, pieces of charcoal, and burnt dust. Objects of gold are rarely found in barrows; but in the neighbourhood of the Cheesewring was a persistent story that at some former time a golden cup was actually dug out of a barrow near by. In course of time the tradition was found to be true, and the cup is now in the king's collection.
Tregony and Probus
A little inland from these shores that reverberate with tales of long ago is Tregony, once celebrated for its boys' school, to which the Truro lads went daily in that great Cornish institution, a bus. It is a most ancient place, supposed to have been a Roman station; and when Edward I. gave Parliamentary representation to the country, Tregony was allowed to send two members, and did so in 1294. Many years since, a large stone coffin was dug up near the town, but the measurements given should be received with caution.
Probus, about four miles north-west of Tregony, has a church of exceptional beauty. The tower is of St. Stephen's stone and the highest in Cornwall, being 123 ft. to the top of the pinnacles; it is of elaborate and beautiful workmanship, while there is good sixteenth-century carving in the church and an ancient stone altar mensa. Not far from Probus is Wolveden, generally called Golden. Here Francis Tregian sheltered his chaplain, Cuthbert Mayne, in 1577, the cell in which he was concealed being still in good case, as well as a fine Tudor doorway and chimney piece; but the old chapel, though still standing, is part of the stables. The punishment for sheltering a wandering Catholic priest was heavy. Mayne was discovered and hanged at Launceston, and Tregian was thrown into prison, where he languished for eight and twenty years. And all this miserable waste of life because Henry VIII. chose to think differently to his ancestors on "matters appertaining to religion."
Cornish Mutton
These Roseland parishes, with their undulating heaths and sweet short turf, are famous for their mutton. The meat generally in Cornwall, after the uncertainty over chilled beef and New Zealand lamb in other parts of the country, is an agreeable change. Nor is it dear. For visitors the prices of food have gradually risen, but not very long ago butter was a shilling a pound, mackerel a penny each, milk twopence a quart, and little fat pilchards six—seven—eight a penny!
A Story of Cornish Vengeance
Not far from each other stand the remains of two great manor houses, Caerhayes Castle, demolished in 1808 and rebuilt, and Bodrugan, now a farm, but once, after Stowe the finest house in the county. The lords of these manors took different sides during the disturbances consequent on the Wars of the Roses and, in the end, Henry de Bodrugan was charged by his neighbours—and among them John Arundell of Tolverne—with having robbed their houses and also with various acts of piracy on the high seas. He, however, was hand and glove with Richard Crookback, who, if an awkward enemy, could be a good friend, and Bodrugan's conviction, obtained in his absence, was subsequently quashed. For the time being he escaped the consequence of his misdeeds, but in his triumph he did not forget to whom he owed his tribulation, and before long saw good reason to accuse Sir Richard Edgcumbe of Cotehele, on the Tamar, and his neighbour, Sir Hugh Trevanion of Caerhayes, of plotting to bring about the accession of Henry VII. A word to Richard, and that monarch, who lost no time in such matters, sent soldiers post haste to arrest Edgcumbe. So unexpectedly did they arrive at Cotehele that their prey had to spring out of the nearest window and make for the woods. When he reached the river they were hard on his heels. But he was a man of resource. Snatching off his cap he tossed it into the water, and when the soldiers arrived they saw it floating slowly down the current and came to the conclusion that he was drowned. Trevanion and Edgcumbe hurried off to Henry of Richmond, and no doubt were with him when he landed at Rame Head, a little further east. They distinguished themselves at Bosworth Field, and in the church of St. Michael, Caerhayes, hangs the sword worn that day by Sir Hugh, the sword with which he was made a knight-banneret by the new king.
But Edgcumbe and Trevanion had a private account to settle and, asking leave of absence, they rode west. Sir Henry de Bodrugan, however, was before them. His cause was lost, his master dead, and he knew that there was little mercy to be hoped for from either Edgcumbe or Trevanion. The enemies met on Woful Moor. Bodrugan gave back and back, till at last only the sea lay behind him. Then he turned and leapt—the rock is still shown—and being a strong swimmer was presently picked up by a passing vessel. His lands, with the goodwill of the King, were divided between his vengeful enemies, and the manor itself has been handed down from Edgcumbe to Edgcumbe in uninterrupted succession to this day.