At the junction of this northerly road with those running south to Liskeard and west to Bodmin, lies Altarnon, the largest parish in Cornwall. The patron saint is Non, the mother of St. David, and her church is full of interesting memorials of the past. It possesses not only an exceptionally large collection of sixteenth-century bench-ends, but an oak rood screen, which antiquarians declare to be "by far the finest specimen of fifteenth-century woodwork in Cornwall and one of the very best existing examples of perpendicular oak-work in England." There are also two paintings on wood (date 1620), a fragment of ancient glass in the east window, locally supposed to contain a portrait of St. Non, a communion rail of 1684, and other objects of interest. On several of the bench-ends may be seen carvings of the little corn man or "neck," that is to say, the figure that is plaited out of the heads of wheat in the last sheaf at a harvest, and which is sometimes to be seen preserved over the winter in a cottage.
Nor is the carefully restored church all that Altarnon has to show. St. Non's Well was celebrated for the cure of lunacy, and Carew gives a startling account of the proceedings. "In our forefather's days, when devotion as much exceeded knowledge as knowledge now cometh short of devotion, there were many bowsening places for curing madmen; and amongst the rest one at Altarnunne, called St. Nunne's Pool, which saint's altar it may be, pars pro toto, gave name to the church. And because the manner of this bowsening is not so unpleasing to hear as it was uneasy to feel, I will deliver you the practice as I received it from the beholder.
"The water running from St. Nunne's Well fell into a square and close-walled plot which might be filled at what depth they listed. Upon this wall was the frantic person set to stand, his back towards the pool, where a strong fellow, provided for the nonce, took him and tossed him, and tossed him up and down, along and athwart the water, until the patient, by foregoing his strength, had somewhat forgotten his fury. Then was he conveyed to the church and certain masses sung over him; upon which handling, if his right wits returned, St. Nunne had the thanks, but if there appeared small amendment, he was bowsened again and again, while there remained in him any hope of life or recovery."
The well is now dry, and the "square and close-walled plot" in ruins, for which—lest it should occur to our medical men to try these old remedies—thanks be to whom thanks are due.
Trebartha
The Lynher which rises in Altarnon flows southward to Trebartha, where it forms a fine cascade and is crossed by the road to Liskeard. Not far from this bridge is the manor of Treveniel, whose lord claimed the right, whenever the Mayor of Launceston mounted his horse on the occasion of the duke coming into Cornwall, of holding the stirrup. It seems strange that any gentleman should set store by this right, which is, after all, a relic of some forgotten form of tenure. What elderly children we remain, squabbling over our foolish plays, in spite of the twentieth century, the new humanitarianism, and all the other solemnities!
The Trethevy Dolmen
Before marching on Liskeard, Charles I. drew up his troops on the north side of Caradon Hill. The copper mines on the south-west of this moorland eminence have yielded ore to the value of several millions of money, but are no longer worked. Near them is the Trethevy dolmen, the largest in Cornwall, the cover stone being 14 ft. long and 9 ft. wide. An old writer described it as "a little house raised of mighty stone, standing on a little hill within a field." In comparison with some of the foreign dolmens, however, it is but small. Several of the French cromlechs are large enough to be converted into chapels, while one at Copenhagen, called the "Chamber of Giants," will allow of twenty people walking about in it.
The Cheesewring
To the north of Caradon Down are three stone circles known as the Hurlers and not far from them the remarkable granite stone known as the Cheesewring. This curious natural phenomenon stands on the side of a hill, the summit of which is encircled by a large entrenchment of unhewn stones, while over against it is Kilmar Tor (1297 ft.), third highest peak in Cornwall. It looks like large blocks of tabular granite poised on smaller ones till the base of the Cheesewring is only about half the size of what it supports, this irregularity being due to weathering. A part of the top is broken. In consequence of careless quarrying close by, the pile has had to be artificially supported.