About a mile to the south of the house, and rising nearly 600 feet high—a considerable elevation in western Cornwall—rises Tregoning (or more properly, Treconan) Hill—the dwelling of Conan—from whose summit, looking to the south-west, the eye commands a vast stretch of waters, over which the sailor might pass to the West Indies without seeing land, unless he chose to touch at the Azores. Nearer at hand, and seeming almost under our feet, lie the noble curves of the Mount's Bay, with, for a central feature, the rocky islet—'both land and island twice a day,' as Carew says—on which stand the Castle and Chair of St. Michael—'Kader Mighel'—still looking
'Tow'rd Namancos and Bayonas' hold.'
Turning our gaze towards the north-west, we see sapphire waves roll on the golden sands which fringe the shores of St. Ives Bay; and, towards the west, the Land's End district so melts into the grey haze of the Atlantic, that it would be as hard to say where the land ended and the sea began, as it would be now to gather the whole truth as to the lost land of Lyonesse, traditionally reported to have been submerged between Bolerium and the Isles of Scilly.
Such were the surroundings of Godolphin. The building itself, originally a castle or fortified residence of some sort, was in ruins in the days of Edward IV. William of Worcester, in 1478, says of it:
'Castellum Godollon dirutum in villa Lodollon'; and Leland, in the days of Henry VIII., describes it in the following words:
'Carne Godolcan on the Top of an Hille, wher is a Diche, and there was a Pile and principal Habitation of the Godolcans. The Diche yet apperith, and many Stones of late Time hath beene fetchid thens. It is a 3 Miles from S. Michael's Mont by Est North Est.'
Rebuilt as Godolphin Hall in the days of Elizabeth, it appeared as a quadrangular mansion, with a fine portico of white granite along the north front, constructed by Francis, the second Earl; but this was the last flickering of its lamp. The rooms over the portico were, it is said, never fitted up, and the mansion of the Godolphins is now occupied by Mr. Rosewarne, a zealous guardian of its crumbling walls.
Concerning the etymology of the name there has been much dispute. Some have claimed for it a Phœnician origin, and said that the word signifies 'a land of tin'—certainly a not inappropriate derivation. Hals is not very dogmatic (as he often is) as to the meaning. He thinks it may mean 'God's Downs,' an 'altogether wooded down or place of springs,' and utterly repudiates Carew's suggestion that it means 'a white eagle.' Others have suggested 'Goon Dolgan'—Dolgan's Down. This, at least, is clear, that the name, as applied to persons, has had more than one narrow escape of becoming extinct. Once, towards the close of the fourteenth century, or early in the fifteenth century, when Ellinor Godolphin married John Rencie; but her husband assumed the patronymic of his wife. Up to that time, and, indeed, for many generations afterwards, we constantly find the Godolphins intermarrying with good old Cornish families, many of whom are now extinct. I find in their family tree such names as Trevanger, Trewledick, Antrewan, Prideaux, Tremrow, Carminowe, Erisey, Bevill, Killigrew, Trenouth, Cararthyn, Carankan, Tredeneck, Pendarves, Carew, Grenville, Arundell, St. Aubyn, Boscawen, Hoblyn, Molesworth, etc. In short, there are very few Cornish families of any distinction in whose veins the blood of the Godolphins of Godolphin did not mingle.