The scenery has for several miles past been distinctly inferior in interest and beauty to that of Mount's Bay and westward; but as it is the most truistic of truisms that every eye forms its own beauty, there may conceivably be those who can find it otherwise. The proof, or disproof, of the assertion lies with the explorer; he is a poor creature that takes his opinions ready-made.
Regaining the dull high road from Perranuthnoe, the very considerable village of Marazion is met, fringing the highway. There is very much more of Marazion than those who look at it from below would suppose, but as the view from Marazion is infinitely better than any view of it, there need be no curiosity cherished by Penzance visitors looking eastward, as to what is there, immediately over the shoulder of the hill, beyond the Mount. Yet, if there can be no interest in Marazion, there is plenty of the antiquarian kind in its parish church of St. Hilary, over a mile distant, away back in a north-easterly direction, in a lonely situation off the road. It was in 1853 that the body of the church was burnt down, with the exception of the Early English tower, with stone spire, remarkable in Cornwall, where spires are rare. In the rebuilt church, removed from the churchyard, now stands the famous "Constantine stone," inscribed
IMP . CAES . FLAV . VAL . CONSTANTINO . PIO .
CAES . NOB . DIVI . CONSTANTI . PII . AVG . FILIO.
Rendered in full, this, the longest Romano-British inscription in Cornwall, becomes a dedication to the Emperor Constantine the Great. The date has been fixed at A.D. 307. The stone was perhaps a milestone, but there is very much more about the ruling monarch than modern travellers would welcome, and if there was ever a mileage inscription as well, it has wholly disappeared. It will probably be conceded by all that in the matter of milestones, at any rate, we are superior to the Romans. It is a somewhat curious coincidence that a contemporary milestone has in recent years been discovered at Tintagel, bearing an inscription to Licinius, co-ruler with Constantine.
THE "NOTI-NOTI STONE," ST. HILARY.
A more mysterious stone exists at St. Hilary. This is the well-known but imperfectly understood "Noti-Noti stone" a seven-foot long block of granite, inscribed with those two words and six not very distinct symbols supposed to represent masonic tools. Some antiquaries are disposed to regard it as the tombstone of an unknown Notus, the son of Notus; but the meaning is quite uncertain.
But to return to Marazion, where another insoluble problem awaits us and wordy warfare continually rages around the derivation of the place-name. It was once alternatively, in the local speech, "Market Jew," and thus arose the popular legend that the Jews anciently established here a market for tin. But it seems reasonable to suppose that "Market Jew" was only a corruption, by people who had almost wholly forgotten the now extinct Cornish language, of the Cornish words marghasiou, signifying "markets." Those "Jews" are supposed to have really been Phœnician traders. A further theory, that the name derived from Margha-ziawn, meaning "market-strand," deserves consideration. But whatever may be the truth, there is no doubt that here was situated a tin-smeltery in very remote times, for in 1849 the ruins of such a building were discovered. The Marazion people styled it, of course, the "Jews' House," and some of the "Jews' House tin" found there is to be seen in the museum at Penzance. A great deal of ingenuity, unsupported by any real evidence, has been employed in attempts to solve the meaning of the place-name, and it has been put forward that the spot was originally inhabited by a colony of Jews, who handed down the bitterness of their exile by styling it "Mara-Zion," i.e. "Bitter Zion." Still another theory has been advanced, namely that St. Michael's Mount was the original Marazion, from the Hebrew, "marath-aiyin," "the landmark"; the Mount being the most prominent object for many miles out to sea. So it will be perceived that there is no lack of choice.
Coming down the long street of Marazion to the shores of Mount's Bay, the most remarkable scene in Cornwall opens out before you. There stretch the flat curving shores of the bay, fringed with sands, but for the most part solitary, with the last miles of the Great Western Railway running along the levels, just above high-water mark; and Penzance town showing white in the distance, three miles away. There are more beautiful bays in Cornwall, and better sands, and repose rather than ruggedness is the note of the scene; but the great distinguishing feature of Mount's Bay—the feature that gives the bay its name—is St. Michael's Mount, rising majestically in the sea off Marazion, half a mile distant from the mainland, with its castle and priory, now the residence of Lord St. Levan, cresting the rocky pyramid with a coronet of towers and pinnacles. St. Michael's Mount is an inspiring sight, whether you are in expectation of seeing it or not. But nothing is unexpected in the way of scenery nowadays. You know what lies round every bend of the road. If we could only recapture the unexpected, how fine that would be!