A Book of Cornwall

by S. Baring-Gould

From Penzance a visit should be paid to S. Ives and to Hayle. The Hayle river flows in a natural furrow from near Germoe, and the whole of the district west is, as it were, cut off from the rest of the peninsula. It needed to have been but a little more depressed, and it would have been converted almost into an island, linked to the mainland only by the ridge between S. Hilary and Godolphin.

The great S. Ives Bay is conspicuous through its white hills of blown sand that form what are locally called Towans.

The church of S. Ives is interesting, and is, like most others in Cornwall, Perpendicular. It is of granite, and contains some fine oak carving in bench-ends and waggon-roof, and a portion of the screen presented, it is supposed, by Ralph Clies, a master smith; also a brass to Otho Trenwith and his wife. The latter is represented kneeling to and invoking the archangel Michael. The head of S. Michael has a comical effect. "Some perplexity may be felt at the appearance of Saint Michael's head, which looks like nothing so much as a Dutch cheese. The fact is, that when this brass lay on the floor, the feet of passers-by had gradually erased the features of the archangel, leaving only the circular nimbus or glory round his head. Some well-meaning but misguided restorer of later days has evidently taken the nimbus to be the outline of the head, and has roughly filled in eyes, nose, and mouth to correspond."[^[27]]

An event occurred at Penzance in 1760 that was curious.

A large vessel was driven ashore on the beach. Numbers of persons crowded to the wreck to get from it what they could, when they were startled to see it manned by swarthy mariners with scimitars and turbans. At once a panic seized on those who had come out of interested motives to the wreck, and they scuttled off as hard as their legs would take them. Presently a company of volunteers was called out to roll of drum, and marched down to surround the 172 men who had disembarked from the wreck. These were gallantly captured and driven like sheep into a spacious barn, and left there under guard through the night.

Next morning it was ascertained from the men who had come ashore (some of whom could speak broken French), by means of some English officers who could understand a little French, especially when broken, that the vessel was an Algerine corsair, carrying twenty-four guns, and that the captain, finding his ship making water rapidly, had run her ashore in Mount's Bay, fully believing he was about the latitude of Cadiz. The instant it was known that the sailors were Algerines, a deadly panic fell on the neighbourhood, for now the plague was feared. The volunteers could hardly be kept at their posts, where they quaked, and felt internal qualms. Intelligence was conveyed to the Government, and orders were issued for troops to march from Plymouth. Happily, however, the panic rapidly abated; the local authorities convinced themselves that there was no plague among the strangers, and, slowly and cautiously, people approached to look and gape at the dark-moustached and bearded men with dusky skin, bare legs, and turbans. The pirates were on the whole kindly treated, and after some delay were sent back to Algiers.

The whole country is wind-blown, and everything looks small: the trees are stunted; the hills rise to no great heights, the very highest point reached is 827 feet; and Tregonning, which does not mount above 600 feet, assumes the airs of a mountain. The coast is fine, but by no means as fine as that of the Lizard. The rocks are of granite, and not of serpentine. But, on the other hand, the surface is less level than that of Meneage. It is crowded with prehistoric antiquities, cromlechs, camps, and stone circles. And the Land's End district has this great advantage, that if you are overdone with the soft and relaxing air on the south coast, you have but to ascend a hill and inhale the invigorating breath that comes from the Atlantic on the north.

Newlyn and Hayle are great fishing stations, and in the Land's End district as in the Lizard chances arise for watching the pilchard fishery.

So many seans, or nets, about 220 fathoms long and about 15 fathoms deep, belong to each fishing station, and three boats go to each sean. The first boat, which is also the largest, is called the sean-boat, as it carries the net and seven men; the next is termed the vollier, probably a corruption for "follower," and carries another sean, called the tuck-sean, which is about 100 fathoms long and 18 deep, this boat also carries seven men; the third boat is called the lurker, and contains but three or four men, and in this boat is the master, or commander.

Pilchards are migratory and gregarious fish, rather smaller than herrings, which they much resemble, but are cased in larger scales. They begin to appear at the end of June, but they are then at a great distance from the coast, and the boats have to go out far to sea before they encounter the shoals. It is a pretty sight to see a flight of fishing-smacks, with their white wings spread, issuing from one of the harbours, and all making for the spot where the fish are ascertained or supposed to be.