The greater part of Mawgan church is of the late Perpendicular period. A curiously constructed hagioscope, at the angle of the south transept, is equally remarkable for the large blocks of granite used in it, and for a low side window, now blocked up by the addition of a vestry. There is a somewhat similar, but not so good, hagioscope at Cury.
A long way down Helford River from Mawgan comes Helford, a hamlet in the parish of Manaccan. Helford is at the opposite side of the ferry to Durgan, and lies down in a deep hollow of the hills. Many charmingly rustic cottages and a delightful old farmhouse face an inner creek. It is hot and steamy at Helford, and great pink ivy-geraniums ramble over the house-fronts, sprawl over the thatch, and peep inquiringly into bedroom windows.
Manaccan sits upon the hill-top. The great uncertainty often existing as to the origin and meaning of place-names is well illustrated here. Manaccan is well within the district of Meneage, which, by fairly general consent, is taken to mean the "stony district," but there are those who declare it to be in its origin "mynachau," that is to say, "monkland." "Manaccan" has also generally been considered to mean "the monks," but as the church is dedicated to Saints Menaacus and Dunstan, it seems more likely that the place takes its name from the first of these. Menaacus, Mancus, or Marnach, an early bishop, is buried, according to William of Worcester, in the church of Lanreath, near Fowey, and Lanlivery church is also dedicated to him.
The church is partly Early English, and has a very good Norman south door. A curious feature is the very flourishing fig-tree that grows out of the wall at the junction of the tower and nave, on the south side.
Manaccan stands on a lofty hill, softly clothed in rich fields and luxuriant trees, not in the least characteristic of the stony Meneage district in which it is situated.
From the heights of Manaccan a steep road, heavily shaded by tall elms, leads to a parting of the ways, whence you may go direct to St. Keverne, or turn aside to the left for the Durra Creek of Helford River, which is some two miles in length, ending in what map-makers style "Dennis Point," a corruption of "Dinas," an ancient British word signifying a fortress of the earthwork and wooden palisade type, constructed at the extremity of a headland, with the approach across the neck of it cut off by a ditch. There is one of these strongholds on either side of the entrance to the creek from the sea. Rabbits hold the fort to-day, but should there come a time when invasions threaten these parts, there can be little doubt of the eternal and unchanging requirements of strategy bringing these salient points again into use, just as, when the last conflicts in the great civil war were disturbing the nation, the Royalists established themselves here, only to be turned out by Fairfax.
ST. ANTHONY IN MENEAGE.
The Durra Creek is generally passed by. Tourists hasten on to St. Keverne, and know nothing of the lovely rugged woodland road that runs beside the water to the church—one can scarce say the village for there are but two or three houses, including the vicarage—of St. Anthony-in-Meneage. St. Anthony stands at the very verge of high water, where a little beach ends, on the landward side, in grassy banks and blackberry tangles, from which spring great elms. Trees close in everywhere, with the grey granite tower of the church in their midst and a lovely old vicarage adjoining, wrapped, as it were, in flowers. There is not, nor ever could have been, any need for a church at this spot, and thus the legend accounting for its origin may very well be true. According to this story, some notables voyaging from Normandy in mediæval times were in great peril of shipwreck, and vowed St. Anthony a church if he would only bring them in safety to shore. They made land here, in the Durra Creek, and accordingly the church was built at the place where they set foot. There are numerous legends of this kind in Cornwall, and all around our coasts; and there is, in general, no occasion to doubt their truth, the absolute uselessness, as a rule, of these votive churches being presumptive evidence of the genuine character of their story. At the same time, it is impossible to believe that St. Anthony, or the saints to whom those other churches are dedicated, personally intervened because they were promised churches in places where they could not possibly advance the cause of religion. Surely we ought to have a better opinion of the saints than to believe them animated by such appeals to personal vanity.