Some three or four centuries ago, it was the property and residence of an ancient family of the same name; little more is known of these old Penroses than what can be gathered from wild traditions related by the winter's hearth. The following among many others were often recounted by old folks of the West.
About three hundred years ago, the owner of Penrose was a younger son who had been brought up to a seafaring life, which he continued to follow till his elder brothers died unmarried and left him heir to the family estate; then, preferring a life on the wave, he kept a well-armed, fast-sailing, craft for fair-trading, or what is now called smuggling; she was manned with as brave a crew as could be picked out of the West Country; most of them are said to have been the Squire's poor relations. A favourite cousin, called William Penrose—who had been his shipmate for years—was captain of the merry men all.
The Squire often took trips to France and other places, whence his goods were brought, and it is said that in his days Penrose crew were never concerned in any piratical jobs; though we know that about that time smuggler, privateer, and pirate, meant very much the same thing, whilst the two latter were then convertible terms with most of our rovers on the deep.
Penrose and his seamen passed but little time on shore except in the depth of winter; yet the board in his hall was always furnished with good substantial fare and the best of liquors, free for all comers.
Over a few years, when the good man was left a widower, with an only child—a boy about seven or eight—he seemed to dislike the very sight of land, for then, even in winter, with his little son, his cousin William, and two or three old sailors, he would stay out at sea for weeks together; leaving, as usual, the care of his farms and household to the care of a younger brother and an old reve or bailif.
In returning from one of these trips, in a dark winter's night, their boat struck on Cowloe and became a wreck. The Squire swam into Sennen Cove with his boy, and in endeavouring to save his crew got drowned himself.
The only remaining brother, known as Jan of Penrose, constituted himself sole guardian of the heir, and master of the place and property.
Now this Jan hated all whom his late brother favoured; and in consequence of his ill-will William Penrose left the West Country—for the sea it was supposed—but whither he wandered was unknown, as no tidings of him were received in the West.
The new master, however, soon got a large smuggling craft and manned her with a crew who cared but little what they did for gold or an exciting life; being well-armed they feared nothing that sailed the ocean.
Jan of Penrose never went to sea; but gave the command to a wretch—known to have been a pirate—who was cast on Gwenvor sands from his ship wrecked in Whitsand Bay, on the night that the good Squire Penrose was drowned.