A second daughter was afterwards given to him, Rosalind; and then a third, who was baptised Juliot, after a sister of St. Morwenna, who had a cell and founded a church near Boscastle. The arrival of these heaven-given treasures, however, filled the old man’s mind with anxiety for the future. The earth must soon close over him; and he would leave a widow and three helpless orphans on the world, without being able to make any provision for them. This preyed on his mind during the last year or two of his life. It was a cloud which hung over him, and never was lifted off. As he walked, he moaned to himself. He saw no possibility of securing them a future of comfort and a home. He could not shake the thought off him: it haunted him day and night.
His church also was fallen into a piteous condition of disrepair: the wooden shingle wherewith he had roofed it some years before was rotten, and let in the water in streams. The pillars were green with lichen, the side of the tower bulged, and discoloured water oozed forth. A portion of the plaster of the ceiling fell; storms tore out the glass of his windows.
In 1872 he sent forth the following appeal to all his friends:—
Jesus said: “Ye have done it unto me!”
The ancient church of Morwenstow, on the northern shore of Cornwall, notwithstanding a large outlay of the present vicar, has fallen into dilapidation and disrepair. A great part of the oak shingle roof requires to be relaid. The walls must be painted anew, and the windows, benches and floor ought to be restored. To fulfil all these purposes, a sum amounting to at least £500 will be required. In the existing state of the Church-rate law, it would be inexpedient and ineffectual to rely on the local succour of the parishioners, although there is reason to confide that the usual levy of a penny in the pound per annum (sixteen pounds), now granted in aid of other resources, would never be withheld. But this church, from the interest attached to its extreme antiquity and its striking features of ecclesiastical attraction, is visited every year by one or two hundred strangers from distant places, and from Bude Haven in the immediate neighbourhood. It appears, therefore, to the vicar and his friends, that an appeal for the sympathy and the succour of all who value and appreciate the solemn beauty and the sacred associations of such a scene might happily be fraught with success. A committee, to consist of the vicar and churchwardens, of J. Tarratt, Esq., late of Chapel House, Morwenstow, and W. Rowe, Esq., solicitor, Stratton, will superintend the disposal of the contributions, under the control of a competent builder, and account to the subscribers for their outlay.
And the benediction of God the Trinity will assuredly requite every kindly heart and generous hand that shall help to restore this venerable sanctuary of the Tamar side.
A voluntary rate raised £32; and offertory, £2 2s. 10-1/2d.; and he had donations of about £150 from various friends.
In 1874 he went to London for his health. He was very much broken then, suffering in his heart and from sciatica. At the same time he resolved to preach in such churches as were open to him, for the restoration fund of St. Morwenna’s sanctuary.
He wrote to me on the subject:—
16 Harley Road, South Hampstead, April 20, 1874. My dear Sir,—I am here in quest of medical aid for my wife and myself. I am so far better that I can preach, and I am trying to get offertories here for the restoration of my grand old Morwenstow Church. Only one has been granted me thus far—last night at St. Matthias, Brompton, where I won an evening offertory “with my sword and with my bow,” twenty-two pounds eighteen shillings, whereas the average for two years at evensong has been under five pounds. But I find the great clergy shy to render me the loan of their pulpits. Do you know any one of them? Can you help me? And about St. Morwenna. Cannot I see your proof sheets of my Saint’s Life, or can you in any way help me in the delivery of her legend to London ears? At all events, do write. I seem nearer to you here than at home. If you come up, do find us out. I write in haste.