|
E-Books on Cornish subjects to read on-line If you come across any other e-books on a subject connected with Cornwall or its people, then please e-mail me the url.
The first edition of this book is dated 1869. The edition used is dated 1913. The publisher was Thomas Nelson and Sons, London, Edinburgh, etc. The number of pages is 450.
Being a collection of some of the Old Tales told in thoseWestern Parts of Britain served by The Great WesternRailway.
This is not a long book, but it is an absolutely delightful one. The Tregellins had owned a large old house on a headland in Cornwall. They had not lived there for some time, and had left it in the care of Clump and his wife Juno, West Indians, while the family lived in Bristol. Tregellin senior decides that he will install some of his young relatives there, in the care of the Clumps and two tutors, one of which, Mr Clare, has to deal with their academic needs, and the other, Captain Mugford, is to teach them watermanship. The date is early in the nineteenth century. There is also a brave and virtuous dog, Ugly. The boys' sailing, swimming and rowing improve, and they rise to various challenges. Eventually they all set off for a longer sailing and fishing expedition. But it all goes pear-shaped, as the weather turns very nasty, and they are marooned on a reef some way out to sea. Clare is not on this expedition, but they need a way to alert him to where they are. It is Ugly that saves the day. Transcribers notes: i) This transcript retains the original spelling, except for the obsolete "long ess" character which has been replaced by 's' throughout. Spellings of proper names tend to be phonetic and haphazard. Eg Pensanz, Pensans, Pensants, Pensance, and Penzance are all the same place. ii) The Latin is worse than the English. I am 99.9% certain that I have transcribed it correctly, the doubt being where the printer has randomly mixed the "long ess" and "f" characters & neither form is in my Collin's Little Gem Latin Dictionary. iii) This transcript omits the original page numbering from the introduction and appendix, but retains it in the main text to support cross-referencing and the index. Each double-page spread was given a single page number. I have given these in []s at the beginning of the left- hand page. iv) Marginalia have been inserted into the text surrounded by []s v) Footnotes have been placed beneath the sections to which they refer. vi) Italics, which Carew uses heavily, have been mostly removed, but sometimes replaced with quotes. vii) The original capitalisation & over-punctuation is retained.
INTRODUCTION. At the end of this book there are a couple of letters from a volume of the "Travels in England" which were not by Defoe, although resembling Defoe's work so much in form and title, and so near to it in date of publication, that a volume of one book is often found taking the place of a volume of the other. A purchaser of Defoe's "Travels in England" has therefore to take care that he is not buying one of the mixed sets. Each of the two works describes England at the end of the first quarter of the eighteenth century. Our added descriptions of Bath, and of the journey by Chester to Holyhead, were published in 1722; Defoe's "Journey from London to the Land's End" was published in 1724, and both writers help us to compare the past with the present by their accounts of England as it was in the days of George the First, more than a hundred and sixty years ago. The days certainly are gone when, after a good haul of pilchards, seventeen can be bought for a halfpenny, and two gentlemen and their servant can have them broiled at a tavern and dine on them for three farthings, dressing and all. In another of his journeys Defoe gives a seaside tavern bill, in which the charges were ridiculously small for everything except for bread. It was war time, and the bread was the most costly item in the bill. In the earlier part of this account of the "Journey from London to the Land's End," there is interest in the fresh memories of the rebuilding and planting at Hampton Court by William III. and Queen Mary. The passing away, and in opinion of that day the surpassing, of Wolsey's palace there were none then to regret. A more characteristic feature in this letter will be found in the details of a project which Defoe says he had himself advocated before the Lord- Treasurer Godolphin, for the settlement of poor refugees from the Palatinate upon land in the New Forest. Our friendly relations with the Palatinate had begun with the marriage of James the First's eldest daughter to the Elector Palatine, who brought on himself much trouble by accepting the crown of Bohemia from the subjects of the Emperor Ferdinand the Second. As a Protestant Prince allied by marriage to England, he drew from England sympathies and ineffectual assistance. Many years afterwards, during the war with France in Queen Anne's time, the allies were unprosperous in 1707, and Marshal Villars was victorious upon the Rhine. The pressure of public feeling on behalf of refugees from the Palatinate did not last long enough for any action to be taken. But if it had seemed well to the Government to accept the project advocated by Defoe, we should have had a clearance of what is now the most beautiful part of the New Forest, near Lyndhurst; and in place of the little area that still preserves all the best features of forest land, we should have had a town of Englishmen descended from the latest of the German settlements upon our soil. Upon the political economy of Defoe's project, and the accuracy of his calculations, and the more or less resemblance of his scheme to the system of free grants of land in unsettled regions beyond the sea, each reader will speculate in his own way.
Sappers and Miners, by George Manville Fenn. This must be one of Manville Fenn's very best books. The suspense is totally gripping, right to the very end. Normally Fenn places his moments of terror at the very end of a chapter, so that this book with 52 chapters must have quite a few of them. When preparing this book for publication on the web, the editor was truly sorry when the work ended, so greatly had he enjoyed every moment of it. The action takes place in Cornwall, in and around an old tin-mine, possibly dating back to Roman and Phoenician days, for these people obtained much of the tin they needed to make bronze, from Cornwall, and many of the mines are still there, with many miles of workings, often going out far beneath the sea.
INTRODUCTION. Many are the acquisitions which geography has made since the boundaries of commerce have been extended, and the spirit of enterprise has carried our adventurous countrymen into countries which had never yet been indented by a European foot; and which, in the great map of the world, appeared as barren and uninhabitable places, destitute of all resources from which the traveller could derive a subsistence. It must, however, on the other hand, be admitted, that design has frequently had little to do in the discovery of those countries, however well it may have been conceived, and however great the perseverance may have been, which was exhibited in the pursuit. The discovery of America was, indeed, a splendid example of an enlightened conception, and an undaunted heroism, crowned with the most complete success; and the laudable and unabated ardour which this country, in despite of the most appalling obstacles, has persisted in solving the great geographical problem of the Course and Termination of the Niger, may be placed second in rank to the discovery of America. As long as any fact is shut out from the knowledge of man, he who is in search of it will supply the deficiency by his own conclusions, which will be more or less removed from the object of his pursuit, according to the previous opinions which he may have formed, or to the credit which he may have placed on the reports of others. These remarks cannot be better illustrated, than in the case furnished by the Joliba, the Quorra, or Niger, the termination of which river was utterly unknown until Richard and John Lander, braving difficulties which would have broken any other hearts than theirs, succeeded in navigating the river until its conflux with the ocean. Since Park's first discovery of the Joliba, every point of the compass has been assumed for the ulterior course and termination of that river, and however wrong subsequent discovery has proved this speculative geography to have been, it is not to be regarded as useless. Theories may be far short of the truth, but while they display the ingenuity and reasoning powers of their authors, they tend to keep alive that spirit of inquiry and thirst for knowledge which terminates in discovery.
DEDICATION. MY DEAR WILLIAM ARCHER, Severe and ruthlessly honest man that you are, you will find that the levities and the gravities of this book do not accord, and will say so. I plead only that they were written at intervals, and in part for recreation, during years in which their author has striven to maintain a cheerful mind while a popular philosophy which he believed to be cheap took possession of men and translated itself into politics which he knew to be nasty. I may summarise it, in its own jargon, as the philosophy of the Superman, and succinctly describe it as an attempt to stretch a part of the Darwinian hypothesis and make it cover the whole of man's life and conduct. I need not remind you how fatally its doctrine has flattered, in our time and in our country, the worst instincts of the half-educated: but let us remove it from all spheres in which we are interested and contemplate it as expounded by an American Insurance 'Lobbyist,' a few days ago, before the Armstrong Committee:--
PREFACE. At the commencement of hostilities, whose extent and duration none can foresee, it is the wisdom of those to whom England will hereafter commit the honour of her Flag to study well the example of the great sea-officers whose services illustrate the annals of their country. Among these bright examples, none is more worthy of careful study than Admiral Lord Exmouth. Entering the service a friendless orphan, the success which he achieved by merit alone is most encouraging to all who must rise by their own deserts. In his perfect seamanship, his mastery of all that relates to his profession, his zeal and energy, his considerate forethought, his care to make his crews thorough seamen, and the example by which he spurred and encouraged them, the secret may be found, not less available to others, of his many brilliant successes, and of the little loss with which he obtained them. His truly parental care for his young officers to train them to their duties and to advance their interests, as conspicuous when commander-in-chief as in his first frigate, is a lesson for all in authority. Nor will his personal qualities be less admired: the honourable independence which he maintained as an officer and a peer, and the moral excellence which marked his life, and was finally proved on his death-bed.
PREFACE When visiting my native county some time since, I was struck with the modern, "up-to-date," aspect of men and things. In this respect Cornwall has much changed even during the twenty years since I left it. The quiet, old-world feeling which I can remember has gone, and instead there is a spirit of eagerness, almost amounting to rush. I discovered, too, that the old stories, dear to me, are forgotten. All the old superstitions have passed away. I remember asking a man whether there were any witches or ghosts in his vicinity. "Look," he said, in reply, pointing at a telegraph post, "they things 'ave destroyed boath witches and ghoasts." And yet, less than four decades ago, when I was a child, ghosts, witches, charms, omens, and the like were firmly believed in. Perhaps the most vivid remembrance I have of my childhood's days, are those connected with the weird stories of the supernatural which my mother used to tell us, as I with my brothers and sisters sat around a roaring fire on winter evenings. I called to mind, too, the haunted places, which I feared to pass after dark; but on inquiring of the new generation concerning these same places, I found an utter ignorance of their old-time reputation. Old Tommy Dain, the famous wizard, is forgotten, while Betsey Flew, she who could blight corn, cause milk to turn sour, and ill-wish all but the eldest son of a family, has no part in the life of the present generation. And yet I remember wearing, for months, a charm which old Betsey had prepared for me, with what result I cannot tell, save that I never had the disease from which the charm was to save me. As for curing warts, crooked legs, weak backs, and other ailments by the means used in the good old days--well, they are utterly forgotten. In short, Cornwall, which even in my boyish days was the very Mecca of Folklore and superstition, has been completely changed. The spirit of "modernity" is everywhere, and thus the old West Country has gone, and a new West Country has taken its place. Whether this has been an unmixed blessing, or not, I have grave doubts; anyhow, the Cornwall I love to think about is the Cornwall of my boyhood, when apparitions from the spirit-land were common, when omens and charms were firmly believed in, and when the village parson had power to "lay a ghost," by reading the burial service a second time over a grave, and taking great care to turn the prayer-book "up-side-down." Much of the story which is here offered to the public was written some years ago, when the memory of the old time was more vivid than it is now; and although it has been re-written, I trust I have retained in its pages something of the atmosphere of mystery and romance for which my native county was once so famous. Indeed, the prologue, while not absolutely true to fact, is true in spirit. The story is not mine at all, but was told me long years ago by those who were old when I was but a boy, and who had no doubt of the truth of what they related. I am afraid I have not pieced their somewhat confused narratives together very well, although one told me by an old dame with wild eyes, and a strong love for a "bit ov bacca," which is reproduced in the chapter entitled "The Vault under the Communion," haunts me even yet.
As he climbed up or down the dripping ladders, descending from sollar to sollar towards the level where he worked, he would set his teeth grimly that he might not curse aloud--an oath underground being an invitation to the Evil One--but in his heart the muffled curses were audible enough. And when he was at work in the dreary level, with the darkness lying on his shoulder like a hand, and the candles shining unsteadily through the gloom, like little evil winking eyes, he brooded so moodily over his bondage to Poverty, that he desired to break from it at any cost. "I'd risk a lem for its weight in gowld: darned ef I wedn'!" he muttered savagely, as he dug at the stubborn rock with his pick. He could hear the sounds of blasting in other levels--the explosions travelling to him in a muffled boom--and above him, for he was working beneath the bed of the ocean, he could faintly distinguish the grinding of the sea as the huge waves wallowed and roared across the beach. "I'm sick to death o' this here life," he grumbled; "I'd give a haand or a' eye for a pot o' suvrins. Iss, I'd risk more than that," he added darkly: letting the words ooze out as if under his breath. At that moment his pick detached a piece of rock which came crashing down on the floor of the level, splintering into great jagged fragments as it fell. He started back with an exclamation of uncontrollable surprise. The falling rock had disclosed the interior of a cavern whose outlines were lost in impenetrable gloom, but which here and there in a vague fashion, as it caught the light of the candle flickering in his hat, seemed to sparkle as if its walls were crusted with silver. "Lor' Jimmeny, this es bra' an' queer!" he gasped.
It is with a peculiar pleasure and, I dare to hope, with some appropriateness that I dedicate to you this story of the West Country, which claims you with pride. To be sure, the places here written of will be found in no map of your own or any neighbouring constituency. A visitor may discover Nannizabuloe, but only to wonder what has become of the lighthouse, or seek along the sand-hills without hitting on Tredinnis. Yet much of the tale is true in a fashion, even to fact. One or two things which happen to Sir Harry Vyell did actually happen to a better man, who lived and hunted foxes not a hundred miles from the "model borough" of Liskeard, and are told of him in my friend Mr. W. F. Collier's memoir of Harry Terrell, a bygone Dartmoor hero: and a true account of what followed the wreck of the Samaritan will be found in a chapter of Remembrances by that true poet and large-hearted man, Robert Stephen Hawker. But a novel ought to be true to more than fact: and if this one come near its aim, no one will need to be told why I dedicate it to you. If it do not (and I wish the chance could be despised!), its author will yet hold that among the names of living Englishmen he could have chosen none fitter to be inscribed above a story which in the telling has insensibly come to rest upon the two texts, "Lord, make men as towers!" and "All towers carry a light." Although for you Heaven has seen fit to darken the light, believe me it shines outwards over the waters and is a help to men: a guiding light tended by brave hands. We pray, sir--we who sail in little boats--for long life to the tower and the unfaltering lamp. A. T. Q. C. St. John's Eve, 1899.
In those west-country parishes where but a few years back the feast of Christmas Eve was usually prolonged with cake and cider, "crowding," and "geese dancing," till the ancient carols ushered in the day, a certain languor not seldom pervaded the services of the Church a few hours later. Red eyes and heavy, young limbs hardly rested from the _Dashing White Sergeant_ and _Sir Roger_, throats husky from a plurality of causes--all these were recognised as proper to the season, and, in fact, of a piece with the holly on the communion rails.
|
