REV. JOHN WESLEY.
(The Founder of Methodism in England.)
The Wesleyan chapel at St. Austell, with accommodation for a congregation of 1,000 persons, also attracted our attention, as it had a frontage like that of a mansion, with columns supporting the front entrance, and was situated in a very pleasant part of the town. John Wesley laboured hard in Cornwall, and we were pleased to see evidences of his great work there as we travelled through the Duchy; and as Cornishmen must surround the memory of their saints with legends, it did not surprise us that they had one about Mr. Wesley. He was travelling late one night over a wild part of Cornwall when a terrific storm came on, and the only shelter at hand was a mansion that had the reputation of being haunted. He found his way into the hall and lay down on a bench listening to the raging elements outside until he fell fast asleep. About midnight he awoke and was surprised to find the table in the hall laid out for a banquet, and a gaily dressed company, including a gentleman with a red feather in his cap, already assembled. This person offered Wesley a vacant chair and invited him to join them, an invitation which he accepted; but before he took a bite or a sup he rose from his chair, and said, "Gentlemen! it is my custom to ask a blessing on these occasions," and added, "Stand all!" The company rose, but as he pronounced the sacred invocation the room grew dark and the ghostly guests vanished.
We should have liked to hear what followed, but this was left to our imagination, which became more active as the darkness of night came on. As we walked we saw some beautiful spar stones used to repair the roads, which would have done finely for our rockeries.
Late that night we entered Truro, destined to become years afterwards a cathedral town.
(Distance walked thirty-three miles.)
Friday, November 17th.
Truro formerly possessed a castle, but, as in the case of Liskeard, not a vestige now remained, and even Leland, who traced the site, described the castle as being "clene down." He also described the position of the town itself, and wrote, "The creke of Truro afore the very towne is divided into two parts, and eche of them has a brook cumming down and a bridge, and this towne of Truro betwixt them both." These two brooks were the Allen, a rivulet only, and the Kenwyn, a larger stream, while the "creke of Truro" was a branch of the Falmouth Harbour, and quite a fine sheet of water at high tide. Truro was one of the Stannary Towns as a matter of course, for according to tradition it was near here that tin was first discovered.
The discoverer of this valuable metal was said to have been St. Piran, or St. Perran—as the Roman Catholic Church in Truro was dedicated to St. Piran we agreed to record that as the correct name. The legend stated that he was an Irish saint who in his own country had been able by his prayers to sustain the Irish kings and their armies for ten days on three cows! But in spite of his great services to his country, because of his belief in Christ his countrymen condemned him to die, by being thrown over a precipice into the sea, with a millstone hung about his neck. The day appointed for his execution was very stormy, but a great crowd of "wild Irish" assembled, and St. Piran was thrown over the rocks. At that very moment the storm ceased and there was a great calm. They looked over the cliffs to see what had become of him, and to their intense astonishment saw the saint calmly sitting upon the millstone and being carried out to sea. They watched him until he disappeared from their sight, and all who saw this great miracle were of course immediately converted to Christianity. St. Piran floated safely across the sea and landed on the coast of Cornwall, not at Truro, but on a sandy beach about ten miles away from that town, the place where he landed being named after him at the present day. When the natives saw him approaching their coasts, they thought he was sailing on wood, and when they found it was stone they also were converted to Christianity. St. Piran built an oratory and lived a lonely and godly life, ornamenting his cell with all kinds of crystals and stones gathered from the beach and the rocks, and adorning his altar with the choicest flowers. On one occasion, when about to prepare a frugal meal, he collected some stones in a circle and made a fire from some fuel close to hand. Fanned by the wind, the heat was intensified more than usual, with the result that he noticed a stream of beautiful white metal flowing out of the fire. "Great was the joy of the saint when he perceived that God in His goodness had discovered to him something that would be useful to man." Such was the origin of tin smelting in Cornwall. St. Piran revealed the secret to St. Chiwidden, who, being learned in many sciences, at once recognised the value of the metal. The news gradually spread to distant lands, and eventually reached Tyre, the ancient city of the Phoenicians, so that their merchants came to Cornwall to buy tin in the days of King Solomon. The Britons then, fearing an invasion, built castles on their coast, including that on St. Michael's Mount, while St. Piran became the most popular saint in Cornwall and eventually the patron saint of the miners of tin. His name was associated with many places besides the sands he landed upon, including several villages, as well as a cross, a chapel, a bay, a well, and a coombe. But perhaps the strangest of all was St. Piran's Round, near Perranzabuloe Village. This, considered one of the most remarkable earthworks in the kingdom, and of remote antiquity, was a remarkable amphitheatre 130 feet in diameter, with traces of seven tiers of seats; it has been used in modern times for the performance of miracle-plays.
One of the "brooks" at Truro mentioned by Leland was the River Kenwyn, which joined the River Allen to form the Truro River; but before doing so the Kenwyn, or some portion of its overflow, had been so diverted that the water ran down the gutters of the principal streets. It was a novelty to us to see the water so fresh and clean running down each side of the street—not slowly, but as if at a gallop.