The Cornish Banner is also known as An Baner Kernewek and has been in existence since 1975. Dr James Whetter began the magazine and continued to produce it until just before his death in February 2018. The last Issue, Number 171, was of its usual high quality and came out on the 1st February 2018, just over three weeks before he passed from this plane of life. It was not a day late.
There were four issues each year and defined by the Gaelic
Seasonal Festivals, as follows;
Imbolc – 1 February – marking the beginning of Spring.
Beltane – 1 May – marking the beginning of
Lughnasa – 1 August – marking the beginning of
the harvest season.
Samhain – 1 November – marking the end of the
harvest season and the beginning of Winter.
The Cornish Banner is Cornwall’s foremost cultural magazine
and is the County’s longest running serious quarterly. As well as providing
up-to-date commentary on the current world scene, the magazine deals with
contemporary events in Cornwall and has articles on its history, culture and
the arts written by leading writers. The series on Cornish personalities
through the centuries, written by Dr Whetter, added to articles on Cornish
rural society from 1600 to modern times, taking as an example his own parish of
St. Gorran in south Cornwall.
Dygemysker’s ‘Cornish Notes’, consisting of extracts from
the previous three months issues of the daily Western Morning News, provided
local readers and those overseas with an invaluable record of their native
land. ‘Cornish Gleanings’ by Tom Tucker, contributions by talented poets, book
reviews and shorter pieces complete the pages of Cornwall’s most distinguished
The Cornish Banner
The Voice of the People
Produced by Cornish People
For Cornish people and those who love our land
About Cornwall and Cornish people
About other nations and peoples
Is independent of all big publishing and other
organisations outside Cornwall
It has long been noted that the climate and atmosphere of Cornwall has been the reason that many inhabitants have felt better within themselves and ‘different’ to the inhabitants of other counties. It has also been attributed to the longevity of the people living there, perhaps only challenged by the Welsh and Scottish and Irish.
For health, eighty and ninety years of age is ordinary in every place, and in most persons accompanied with an able use of the body and senses. In the parish where God hath seated my poor dwelling, I remember the decease of four, within fourteen weeks space, whose years, added together, made up the sum of 340.
…in the language of the West, they should not call a person of seventy or eighty aged.
A Cornish correspondent of Mr. Polwhele’s observed,
George Worgan, in his 1811, General View of the Agriculture of the County of Cornwall, mentioned an interesting paper, drawn up by the Rev. John Trist, vicar of Veryan, on the population of his
Parish. There, in 1810 lived 1220 inhabitants, and Trist in a manner out of the norm for the times. Recorded the age at death of all persons within his parish for thirty years. These records produced some interesting statistics.
1 in 8 exceeded 80 years of age.
1 in 53.5 exceeded 90 years of age
Trist quoted Jonas Hanway, an 18th philanthropist who had noted,
The proportion of deaths, to the sum total of the living, is less than has been recorded in any political computation whatever, being as one to ninety.
In Cumberland, where, throughout the diocese of Carlisle, the ages of all persons buried have been noted in the parish register for thirty-five years past, in consequence of an injunction of a former Archdeacon, we have had the opportunity in many, particularly in some of the most populous parishes, of ascertaining the proportion of persons who had attained the ages of eighty and ninety. We were induced to undertake the search in that county as often as we had the opportunity, in consequence of the prevailing opinion of the longevity of its inhabitants; the circumstance of the registers was peculiarly favourable, and the result was in general the same as Mr. Trist found it to be in his parish of Veryan, that one in eight had attained the age of eighty; in some parishes we found that one in seven had attained that age, and even in the populous parishes of Carlisle, so much more unfavourable to longevity, the average, including infants, was one in ten.
Jean Brawne, the beggar, a Cornishman by wandering (for I cannot say by inhabitance) though Irish by birth, outscoreth a hundred winters by I wote not how many revolutions.
Prake of Talland, aged 110
The Reverend Thomas Cole. Minister of Landewednack, who died and was buried there in 1683 is said, in the register, to have been 120 years of age.
… relates an anecdote of his walking to Penryn and back, a distance of thirty miles, not long before his death, on the authority of Mr. Erisey, who met him on the road. Michael George, sexton of the same parish, was buried March 20, 1683, aged, as is said in the register, upwards of 100 years.
Borlase speaks also of an old man of the name of Collins, upwards of 100, whom he saw on a tour to the Lizard: this man (Sampson Collins) was buried at Ruan-Major in 1754, aged 104.
Borlase tells us also, on the authority of Mr. Scawen, of Molineck, of a woman who died at Gwithian, in 1676, at the age of 164. There is no entry of this woman’s burial in the register, but by an inquiry, obligingly instituted by the present rector, Mr. Hockin, we find she is well known by tradition among the oldest inhabitants. Her name was Cheston Marchant. The tradition of the place is, that she had a new set of teeth and new hair in her old age, and that travellers, who came to see her out of curiosity, frequently took with them a lock of her hair: it is said also, that she spoke only the Cornish language, and that she was many years bedridden. (The name of Cheſton occurs more than once as a female name in the pedigree of the Nansperians, a family who lived in the neighbouring parish of St. Erth)
Mrs Trevanion, who died at Bodmin in 1769, aged 102
Mr Richardson of Tregony, who died in 1770, aged 102
Mrs Blanch Littleton of Lanlivery, aged 101 (the three last on the authority of the Annual Register)
A lady at Egloshayle, aged 112
Maurice Bingham, a fisherman at St Just, who died in 1780, aged 116.
Elizabeth Kempe, of Wendron, who died in 1791, aged 104.
Catherine Freeman, a Scotch woman who died at Falmouth in 1793, aged 118.
John Roberts, of St Keverne, aged 107
Priscilla Rouse, aged 101 of Manaccan
Edward Roberts, aged 102 of Manaccan
Mary Sarah aged 102 buried in 1803 at Gluvias
Jane Studiford aged 102 buried in 1803 at Gluvias
Mary Jenkins of Crantock, deceased aged 102 in 1806
Mary Jenkins father aged 101
Mary Jenkins mother aged 103
Elizabeth Woolock, of Nantallan near Bodmin in 1806, then aged 102 and able to ride single to church at the distance of three miles
Mrs Zenobia Stevens, of Skilly-Waddon, in the parish of Towednack, who was buried at Zennor in 1763, at the age of 102, was tenant for 99 years of the tenement of Trevidgia-Warra, held under the Duke of Bolton’s manor of Ludgvan-Lees, and we are informed from good authority, that when she went, on the expiration of the term, being of course in her 100th year, to the Duke’s court at St Ives, she excused herself from drinking a second glass of wine, because it was growing late and she had some way to ride home upon a young colt. Her daughter, Mrs Zenobia Baragwanath, lived to the age of 98 or 99.
Elizabeth Fradd, aged 103, was buried at St Kew in 1803
Henry Martin, aged 101, was buried at Stithian in 1812
He ran over 32 times, with an impressive record and race winnings, which can be viewed here.
Prideaux Boy was owned by C G Roach of Roach Foods Ltd until 11th August 1989. I have been unable to trace him after that date and would appreciate any information on this matter.
Graham Roach progressed to jump racing via the point-to-point field and hunting, he was always at his happiest with horses.
He said later, “We went to Doncaster where I met Keith Lewis. A customer introduced him to me and said, ‘If you want a bit of help to buy a horse or two, this is the man; he is straightforward and honest.’ “
It was here where he bought the young horse, soon to named Prideaux Boy.
Graham Roach made his fortune with the Cornish bacon and ham processing family business, Roach Foods. The company employed 800 staff and the profits enabled Roach to purchase Prideaux House at St Blazey along with 200 acres of prime land in 1980. Cornwall is an excellent county to bring on horses.
It was here that he began to buy and train racehorses, initially enjoying considerable success with Prideaux Boy. The bay horse became a top-class hurdler, winning the Lanzarote and Swinton Hurdles and finishing 4th, to See You Then, in the 1986 Champion Hurdle and before changing to fences late in his career.
His red-and-white silks were soon etched into folklore, well before his success with Viking Flagship, dual winner of the Queen Mother Champion Chase.
By the end of the 1980’s, Graham Roach found it impossible to spend enough time training racehorses in addition to overseeing a growing business.
He said, “Cornwall is too far down geographically and there were so many business commitments. I wasn’t able to split myself in half and make it work, and it was the business that always had to come first.”
It was there, at Prideaux, where the foals and store horses received 85% of their basic training before being sent to either Oliver Sherwood or David Nicholson for final training.
Graham Roach died at the early age of 69, in September 2016 and his horses were all sold at the Goffs UK January Sale (2017), by his widow.
Henry Jenner wrote A
Handbook of the Cornish Language in 1904, shortly after being made a Bard
of the Breton Gorsedd in 1903. His Bardic name was Gwas Myghal (Servant of
Michael). Jenner soon founded the first Cornish Language Society, ‘Cowethas
His book is a thorough study of the history, story and evolution
of the Cornish language and is still available today. It is a necessary
addition to the library of the serious student of the Cornish language.
The original manuscript is now held at Kresen Kernow, a site which is currently under construction and will ultimately house many Cornish archives.
Henry Jenner’s interest in the Cornish language began, when
he was a young boy at St Columb Major. Robert Morton Nance discussed this in
his book, Cornish Beginnings.
When Jenner was a
small boy at St. Columb, his birthplace, he heard at the table some talk
between his father and a guest that made him prick up his ears, and no doubt
brought sparkles to his eyes which anyone who told him something will remember.
They were speaking of a Cornish language. At the first pause in their talk he
put his query… ‘But is there really a Cornish Language?’ and on being assured
that at least there had been one, he said ‘Then I’m Cornish—that’s mine!’
It was in 1869 when Henry Jenner was working as a clerk in
the Probate Division of the High Court, that he received the news that he had
been nominated by the Primate at Canterbury for a job at the Department of
Ancient Manuscripts in the British Museum. Jenner’s father was Rector of
Wingham, Canterbury at this time and able to accommodate Jenner there. This was
the ideal place for Jenner to uncover, read and squirrel away information on
his beloved Cornwall and its ancient language.
Henry Jenner began to formulate and hone his future academic work on Celtic languages, reading papers on the Manx and Cornish languages, amongst others. But it wasn’t until 1877, while working in the depths and passages of the British Museum that he discovered a medieval play, comprising only 41 lines and written in Cornish in 1450, on the back of a charter dated 1340.
On the back of a charter in the British Museum the present writer discovered in 1877, a fragment of 41 lines of a Cornish verse. The writing was very faint, indeed the MS, had passed through other, and by no means incompetent hands without this precious endorsement being noticed, and the finder might have missed it too had he not been deliberately looking for possible Cornish words on the backs of a number of charters relating to St. Stephen-in-Brannel, after he had finished the necessary revision of the cataloguing of these documents. The date of the document is 1340, but the Cornish writing on the back is somewhat later, perhaps about 1400. The language and the spelling agree with the those of the Poem of the Passion and the Ordinalia, and the exact metre is not found anywhere else.
Henry Jenner A Handbook of the Cornish Language
This was his Rosetta Stone.
Following Jenner’s publication of, A Handbook of the Cornish Language, interest in the Cornish language took hold. Jenner’s version of Cornish was based on the form of the language used in West Cornwall in the 18th century. Jenner’s spelling and pronunciation was mainly influenced by Edward Lhuyd and the tradition of speaking Cornish of its last speakers. It was his pupil Robert Morton Nance who would give the language revival a stronger mediaeval influence.
He wrote several essays on the subject, discussing in great
detail his research on the origin of the Cornish language and its evolution
over the years. He describes Cornish as being one of the seven recognised
Celtic languages, belonging to the type known as Aryan, originating within the
The Cornish language which at one time was spoken all over
Cornwall, eventually began to die out as more spoke English. Cheston Marchant was recorded by Borlase as
being the last person to speak only Cornish. It is interesting to note that she
died at Gwithian in 1676, reputably at the age of 164.
Mrs Dolly Pentreath has erroneously been recorded as the last Cornish speaker in Cornwall in 1768, but a Mousehole fisherman called William Bodenor, who died in 1794, wrote a letter in Cornish and English which the antiquary Daines Barrington contributed to the Archaelogia Cornu-Britannica by Edward Lhuyd. There are several notable records of Cornish being spoken later than Dolly Pentreath – but she gets the publicity.
According to Jenner, it was sometime between 1875 and 1890 that there was no one left who either spoke or could write in Cornish. Jenner’s mother in law could only recall being able to recite the Lord’s Prayer in Cornish but had forgotten it as she became older. This lady, Mrs W J Rawlings, died in 1879. Henry Jenner details many names and instances of Cornish language speakers in his essays on the subject.
A Short Biography
Henry Jenner was born on the 8th August 1848 at St. Columb
Major to Henry Lascelles Jenner, a curate at St Columb Major church, who was
later consecrated (not enthroned) as Bishop of Dunedin, and whose own father
was Herbert Jenner Fust.
Henry married Kitty Lee Rawlings in 1877, the year he began
working at the British Museum. Kitty Lee was already an established novelist.
Henry was a Tory and a Jacobite and both he and his wife
supported the Order of the White Rose, which he founded in 1891 and of which he
Jenner stayed at the British Museum for over 40 years until 1909 when the couple retired to Hayle, Kitty’s birthplace. Jenner became Librarian at Morrab Library and remained there until 1927. He was also President of the Royal Cornwall Polytechnic Society and the Royal Institution of Cornwall.
Jenner died on the 8th May 1934 and is buried at St Uny’s Church at Lelant.
The whole object of my life has been to inculcate into Cornish people a sense of their Cornishness.
Henry Jenner on his deathbed
Henry Jenner’s obituary
MR. HENRY JENNER
Mr. Henry Jenner, F.S.A., who died at Hayle, Cornwall, on Tuesday at the age of 85, was an authority on the ancient Cornish language, of which he had compiled a dictionary. He was the only son of Dr. Henry Lascelles Jenner, the first Bishop of Dunedin, and a grandson of Herbert Jenner-Fust, Dean of the Arches and Master of Trinity Hall, Cambridge. For 40 years he was on the library staff at the British Museum. He was the senior bard of the Cornish Gorsedd, and had a striking appearance, being tall with a long white bear. He was a composer and produced “The Cornish Song Book.” He married Kate Rawlings, novelist and writer on art. The funeral will be at Lelant on Saturday at 12.15, after requiem Mass at Downes at 11 o’clock.
The Times on 10th May 1934
The Lord’s Prayer in Cornish
Agan Tas-ny, us yn neft, Benygys re bo dha Hanow, Re dheffo dha wiacor, Dha voth re bo gwres, y’n nor kepar hag y’n nef;
Ro gaf dhyn agan camwyth, Kepar del aven-nyny dhe’n re-na us ow camwul er agan pyn-ny;
Ha na wra agan gorra yn temptasyon, Mess delyrf ny dworth drok.
Rag dhyso-jy an walscor, ha’n gallos, ha’n gordhyans Bys vyken ha bynary.
Robert Stephen Hawker was born on the 3rd December
1803, five months after George Borrow, who was also a descendant of Cornishmen
and was to write enthusiastically of the beauteous scenery and peoples he
discovered therein as did Hawker.
Hawker was born in the clergy house of Charles Church,
Plymouth, the grandson of Robert Hawker who was vicar there. There were eight
children born after Robert, but he was left to live with his grandfather when
his own father Jacob Stephen Hawker, left to take up a new position as curate
at Altarnun with the rest of the family when Robert was ten. Altarnun was the
village featured in Jamaica Inn by
Daphne du Maurier, where the vicar (spoiler alert) turned out to be a real
It seems that the family did not want to interrupt Robert’s
education, he already reading and writing poetry. The grandfather helping his
further education at Liskeard Grammar School and Cheltenham Grammar School.
He was an undergraduate of 19 when he married Charlotte
Eliza L’ans aged 41, and whose money helped Hawker establish himself. George
Borrow also married an older lady of money, who enabled him to do the same.
Rather than ‘gold-digging’, both matches appear to have been from mutual love
and respect. At any rate, Hawker could now afford to graduate from Pembroke College,
Oxford. He had been an opium eater, trying to overcome anxiety and his marriage
helped him to limit the amount of drugs he took.
They honeymooned at Tintagel in 1823, where they furthered
Hawker’s lifelong love of the legend of Kind Arthur, of whom he wrote several
times. Throughout her long life, anyone who met Charlotte considered her a
wonderful woman and Hawker totally relied upon her.
In 1825 he published anonymously The Song of the Western
Men, still counted today as being the unofficial anthem of the Cornish.
It was 1834 when he became vicar at Morwenstow, where they
had not a vicar for over a hundred years. Here, Hawker found a godless
congregation many of whom took part in smuggling and wrecking. To add to the
atmosphere, it was commonly accepted that the wreckers of Morwenstow would,
‘allow a fainting brother to perish in the sea… without extending a hand of
Hawker did all he could to change the way his congregation
dealt with the tragedy and misfortune of others by taking the lead. He was
often the first to reach the cliffs when there was a shipwreck. He also gave
all dead seamen a Christian burial, a kinder end for them, when previously the
bodies would have been left in the sea or buried on the beach. The churchyard grave
of five of the crew of the Caledonia, which sank in 1842, is marked by the
ship’s own figurehead. A granite cross marks the graves of more than 30 drowned
seaman. Most of these wrecks and rescues are described by Hawker in his book, Footprints of Former Men in Far Cornwall.
He built a hut overlooking the sea, still there today and protected by the National Trust. Within the hut he was said to take opium, smoke and write his poetry. He was a believer and practitioner of mysticism and had many visions. He also suffered from depression.
With all his brightness and vivacity, there was constantly ‘ cropping up,’ a sad and serious vein, which showed itself sometimes in a curious fashion. ‘ This is as life seems to you,’ he would say, as he bade his visitor look at the prospect through a pane of ruby-tinted glass, ‘all glowing and hopeful. And this is as I see it,’ he would add, turning to a pane of yellow, ‘ grey and wintry and faded. But keep your ruby days as long as you can.’
The Vicar of Morwenstow by Sabine Baring Gould
Hawker introduced the Harvest Festival and built a spectacular vicarage with chimneys copying those which had played an important part in his life.
A happily eccentric man, Hawker dressed in a claret coat, blue fisherman’s jumper, long sea boots, a pink brimless hat and a yellow poncho made from a horse blanket.
There was, we remember, a peculiar yellow vestment, in which he appeared much like a Lama of Tibet, which he wore in his house and about his parish, and which he insisted was an exact copy of a priestly robe worn by St. Pardarn and St. Teilo. We have seen him in this attire proceeding through the lanes on the back of a well-groomed mule—the only fitting beast, as he remarked, for a churchman.’ We have here one instance out of many of the manner in which the Vicar delighted to hoax visitors. The yellow vestment in question was a poncho. It came into use in the following manner: — Mr. M, a neighbour, was in conversation one day with Mr. Hawker, when the latter complained that he could not get a greatcoat to his fancy. ‘ Why not wear a poncho? ‘ asked Mr. M. ‘ Poncho! what is that? ‘ inquired the Vicar. ‘ Nothing but a blanket with a hole in the middle.’ ‘ Do you put your legs through the hole, and tie the four corners over your head? ‘ ‘ No,’ answered Mr. M; ‘ I will fetch you my poncho, and you can try it on.’ The poncho was brought; it was a dark blue one, and the Vicar was delighted with it. There was no trouble in putting it on. It suited his fancy amazingly ; and next time he went to Bideford he bought a yellowish-brown blanket, and had a hole cut in the middle, through which to thrust his head. ‘I wouldn’t wear your livery, M ,’ said he, ‘nor your political colours, so I have got a yellow poncho.’ Those who knew him well can picture to themselves the sly twinkle in his eye as he informed his credulous visitor that he was invested in the habit of St. Pardarn and St. Teilo.
The Vicar of Morwenstow by Sabine Baring Gould
He would talk to the birds, have his cats inside the church and kept a pig as a pet. When one of his cats was caught killing mice, Hawker excommunicated him. He had also been known to sometimes dress as a mermaid, one hopes purely for entertainment. A good read is his autobiography written by Sabine Baring Gould called The Vicar of Morwenstow, where much of Hawker’s life is discussed in more detail than we have space for here. Hawker himself had written,
‘What a life mine would be if it were all written and published in a book.’
R S Hawker
His wife Charlotte died in 1863 aged 81, following a long
illness and suffering blindness. Hawker would read to her daily and when she
died, it was then he returned to opium to heal his depression. He took to
eating only clotted cream and his tiredness and lack of personal care meant
that he once set fire to his work and part of the vicarage, which was luckily spotted
by a fellow minister, who thankfully saved the day.
But within a year Hawker had wooed and married the 20-year-old
Pauline Kuczynski who produced three daughters, Morwenna Pauline, Rosalind and
Juliot. Pauline was the impoverished daughter of a Polish Count, who had found
it necessary to find employment as a governess to a family in Morwenstow.
However successful this second marriage was, it certainly meant that he temporarily
stopped taking opium. But the withdrawal meant that Hawker soon renewed his
relationship with depression, constantly worrying about his young family and
how they would manage following his inevitable death.
Hawker went to London for his health which worsened and
improved according to his moods. The family moved back to Plymouth where they
took a small house. Hawker talked much of witches, the devil and evil spirits
all of whom he believed persecuted him. He eventually died on 15th August 1875
shortly after converting to Catholicism and is buried in Plymouth. The
conversion was surprising and full of controversy, some intimating that
advantage had been taken of Hawkers weak mental and physical state. The
mourners wore purple instead of the traditional black.
He left his family little provision and they had to manage
as best they could.
Hawker had also learned that he would not be allowed to be buried alongside his first wife in the church at Morwenstow. This greatly upset him, and it is said that his spirit has been seen on many occasions standing over the grave, staring mournfully at where he had not been allowed to take his final rest.
The Song of the Western Men, also known as Trelawney, is a
Cornish patriotic song. It has been referred to many times as the National
Anthem of Cornwall.
It was sung at the funeral of Dr. James Whetter, a Cornish
nationalist and true Cornish man.
A good sword and a trusty hand! A merry heart and true! King James’s men shall understand What Cornish lads can do! And have they fixed the where and when? And shall Trelawny die? Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men Will know the reason why!
And shall Trelawny live? Or shall Trelawny die? Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men Will know the reason why!
Out spake their Captain brave and bold: A merry wight was he: Though London Tower were Michael’s hold, We’ll set Trelawny free! We’ll cross the Tamar, land to land: The Severn is no stay: With “one and all,” and hand in hand; And who shall bid us nay?
And shall Trelawny live? Or shall Trelawny die? Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men Will know the reason why!
And when we come to London Wall, A pleasant sight to view, Come forth! come forth! ye cowards all: Here’s men as good as you. Trelawny he’s in keep and hold; Trelawny he may die: Here’s twenty thousand Cornish bold Will know the reason why
And shall Trelawny live? Or shall Trelawny die? Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men Will know the reason why!
And shall Trelawny live? Or shall Trelawny die? Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men Will know the reason why!
The reason why!
Following are the two translated Cornish versions of Trelawney, the first translated by Henry Jenner in 1905
‘Ma lel an leuv, ‘ma’n kledha mas ‘Ma’n golon lowen, gwir! Tus Mytern Jams ‘wra konvedhes Pandr’yll Kernowyon sur! Yw ornys le ha prys ankow? ‘Verow Trelawny bras? Mes ugans mil a dus Kernow A wodhvydh oll an kas. ‘Verow Trelawny bras? ‘Verow Trelawny bras? Mes ugens mil a dus Kernow A wodhvydh oll an kas. ‘Medh aga Hapten, krev ha dreus, Gwas lowen ev a veu, “A pe Tour Loundres Karrek Loos, Ni a’n kergh mes a’n le.” “Ni ‘dres an Tamar, tir dhe dir, A pe ‘vel Havren down, Onan hag oll, dhe’n den eus fur; Dhe’gan lettya ‘fedh own.” ‘Verow Trelawny bras? ‘Verow Trelawny bras? Mes ugens mil a dus Kernow A wodhvydh oll an kas. “Pan wrellen dos dhe Fos Loundres, Dhe wel a bleg dhyn ni; Ownegyon oll, gwrewgh dos yn-mes Dhe dus eus gwell eso’hwi!” “Yn karhar kelmys rag ankow Mirowgh Trelawny bras! Mes ugans mil a dus Kernow A wodhvydh oll an kas.” ‘Verow Trelawny bras? ‘Verow Trelawny bras? Mes ugens mil a dus Kernow A wodhvydh oll an kas.
Henry Jenner 1905
Gans kledha da ha dorn yw lel, Gwir lowen an golon Yth aswon Mytern Jamys fel Pandr’wrello Kernowyon. Yw ordnys prys ha le ankow? ‘Verow Trelawny bras? Ottomma ugens mil Gernow A wodhvydh oll an kas. ‘Verow Trelawny bras? ‘Verow Trelawny bras? Ottomma ugens mil Gernow A wodhvydh oll an kas! Yn-medh an kapten, byw y woos, Gwas joliv yn mesk kans: “Tour Loundres kyn fe Karrek Loos Y’n delirvsen dehwans. Ni a dres Tamar, tir dhe dir, An Havren ny’gan lett; Ha skoodh reb skoodh, kowetha wir, Piw orthyn ni a sett? ‘Verow Trelawny bras? ‘Verow Trelawny bras? Ottomma ugens mil Gernow A wodhvydh oll an kas! Devedhys bys yn fos Loundres “Gwel teg dhyn” ni a gri; “Dewgh mes, ownegyon oll, dewgh mes, Gwell dus on esowgh hwi!” Trelawny yw avel felon Fast yn karharow tynn Mes ugens mil a Gernowyon Godhvos an ken a vynn. ‘Verow Trelawny bras? ‘Verow Trelawny bras? Ottomma ugens mil Gernow A wodhvydh oll an kas!
Robert Stephen Hawker, the well known and eccentric Vicar of Morwenstow is thought to have published the song in its most recent form during 1824 and had it published anonymously. He said,
With the exception of the choral lines, And shall Trelawny die? Here’s twenty thousand Cornish men Will know the reason why!’ ‘ and which have been, ever since the imprisonment by James the Second of the seven bishops — one of them Sir Jonathan Trelawny — a popular proverb throughout Cornwall, the whole of this song was composed by me in the year 1825. I wrote it under a stag-horned oak in Sir Beville’s Walk in Stowe Wood. It was sent by me anonymously to a Plymouth paper, and there it attracted the notice of Mr Davies Gilbert, who reprinted it at his private press at Eastbourne under the avowed impression that it was the original ballad. It had the good fortune to win the eulogy of Sir Walter Scott, who also deemed it to be the ancient song. It was praised under the same persuasion by Lord Macaulay and by Mr Dickens, who inserted it at first as of genuine antiquity in his Household Words, but who afterwards acknowledged its actual paternity in the same publication.’
The history of that Ballad is suggestive of my whole life. I published it first anonymously in a Plymouth Paper. Everybody liked it. It, not myself, became popular. I was unnoted and unknown. It was seen by Mr Davies Gilbert, President of the Society of Antiquaries, etc., etc., and by him reprinted at his own Private Press at Eastbourne. Then it attracted the notice of Sir Walter Scott, who praised it, not me, unconscious of the Author. Afterwards Macaulay (Lord) extolled it in his History of England. All these years the Song has been bought and sold, set to music and applauded, while I have lived on among these far away rocks unprofited, unpraised and unknown. This is an epitome of my whole life. Others have drawn profit from my brain while I have been coolly relinquished to obscurity and unrequital and neglect.
Hawker of Morwenstow, by Piers Brandon
Here is a video of the Song of the Western Men being sung with national pride and feeling.
The Reverend Frederick William Densham (BA ACA) died aged 83 in 1953 after a strange and enigmatic life. A life which has left unanswered questions even though his story has been discussed world- wide. He was seen in the mid 1930’s by Daphne du Maurier and reputedly inspired her vicar in Jamaica Inn. It is also believed that Densham’s spirit still haunts the church in which he was vicar for 22 years prior to his strange death.
The Reverend Frederick W Densham was born in 1870 in London to a Methodist Minister and his wife. It is likely that this upbringing laid the foundations of his intransigent non-acceptance of the ‘High Church’ congregation he was to meet later in his life at Warleggan. He was a clever man , graduating from London University and the Divinity School at Oxford. It is not known why Densham ordained in the Church of England while he held these at odds beliefs. Perhaps, as with many people, Densham initially wished to shake off the views of his parents and as he aged, found himself becoming the same man as his father.
A tall strong man, standing over six feet, Densham was also pompous, pious and sure of himself and certain that his beliefs were the only correct ones. He was at his best when working with the needy and found positions working in a Boys’ Home in Whitechapel and at a Home for Inebriates.
By 1921, Densham decided to enlighten foreigners and travelled to Natal in Africa as a missionary. He was unsuccessful and after learning of the teachings of Gandhi, applied to work in India but was turned down. It was this temporarily demoralised man who turned up to minister at St Bartholomew’s Church in Warleggan in Cornwall in 1931.
There he found 168 parishioners, Cornishmen born and bred, distrustful of strangers and unwilling to change their patterns of worship. It seems that they may have been against Densham from the beginning as even early in his residency there, the congregation averaged only between 4 and 9 people. On very rare occasions there were as many as 15 or 20 worshippers. Equally, there were many days when he would preach to an empty church. As the church emptied, it became Densham’s practice to place small cards in the first six pews inscribed with the names of prior vicars and so preached in his imagination to his peers.
It may have been a result of this habit, from which grew the legend of him preaching to the cardboard cut outs of parishioners, a story which some say originated from Daphne du Maurier in her book Vanishing Cornwall. However, Miss du Maurier did not write this legend until 1967 and heard about it around 1932.
Daphne visited the church with her friend Foy Quiller Couch
a short time after Reverend Densham had arrived. He had been invited to tea at
The Haven along with another clergyman, by the Quiller Couch family. They found
him to be amiable and loquacious, although a little odd. Daphne du Maurier wrote
about her conversation with Foy following this encounter,
“In what way?” I enquired. “He asked me,” she said, “to recommend a gardener to live in.” He was a bachelor, and whomever he employed would receive for his services a penny a year and all his potatoes free. “I told him,” said my friend (Foy), the most courteous of persons, “that gardeners are rather hard to find, and possibly the wages he suggested were a little low.”
Vanishing Cornwall by Daphne du Maurier
It was from Foy and her father, the highly respected Arthur Quiller Couch, that Daphne heard of the cardboard cut-out congregation. Other writers have disputed the story, stating that Densham only preached to hand written cards left in the pews.
It wasn’t long before Densham and his parishioners fell out.
He wished to change the services and had various ideas to update the services but
soon fell foul of the Parish Council. He responded by removing the complainants
from the parish electoral rolls. He could find no staff, as he wanted them to
live in on little or no wages. It was highly likely that he was lonely and
could not understand why it was his own actions clashing with a long-established
community belief that were to blame. It was his job to work with his congregation
and not against them.
It has also been reported that he kept strange books in his library, possibly to do with witchcraft and devil worship. It seems more likely that his academic books on Eastern religions and folk and pagan beliefs were causing the trouble. He was however, preaching the merits of vegetarianism and had banned whist drives and concerts, declaring them ‘amusements from hell.’
Densham then took it upon himself to purchase an entire litter of Alsatian puppies, cute at first, but which soon ran wild killing sheep belonging to local farmers. This caused more antagonism and there were loud demands for the destruction of the dogs. Instead of this, Densham had his entire property at The Rectory fenced with eight-foot-high barbed wire as a compromise, while he insisted that his dogs, including his favourite Gandhi, were not to blame.
Now, there was a twelve-foot-high gate as an entrance to The Rectory, outside of which Densham left a box where his meagre shopping requirements could be left. Appointments to visit him had to be in writing and Densham would wait for them inside the gate. Any visitors without an appointment would have to bang loudly on an old oil drum left there for the purpose.
Mindful of his tiny congregation, and wanting to please them, Densham decided to repaint the church, choosing to do it at night and using colours of deep red, blue and yellow. Horrified, his small congregation walked out of the church upon seeing his work, fearful of Densham’s clear pagan beliefs. Densham responded by painting over the church windows and bringing in only one candle when a meeting was held to object.
In 1933 Densham had closed the Sunday School and the shocked congregation called on their Bishop, Walter Frere, hoping he would remove Densham, but he could find no ecclesiastical reason so to do. It appears that the Bishop was alarmed by some of the accusations, such as the threat to sell the church organ, a World War 1 memorial, and Densham telling one parishioner that he would kill him by ‘Holy Magic’. But Bishop Frere in response asked for peace and reconciliation.
Densham remained in his place at St Bartholomew’s.
It was around this time, that Daphne and Foy visited. They
stayed at Jamaica Inn and trudged to Warleggan early one morning. A journey of
over two hours.
Daphne wrote in Vanishing
The trek was long, the day was hot-surprisingly, for mid-May – and Warleggan was not easy to find. We arrived weary and already rather scared, having eaten a pasty lunch unwittingly upon a nest of adders, the strange hissing noise beneath warning us, just before they uncoiled and rose, that the stone was occupied. Warleggan church already had an air of desolation, the small churchyard tall with unkempt grass, the silence profound. No one, save the pastor, had said a prayer within for many years. Our courage waned. We left the church and approached the rectory, which was screened by tall trees nested in by colonies of rooks whose restless cawing held a baleful note. We found the entrance gate barred and wired, with the box upon it for provisions empty. Daringly we sounded the bell. Hardly had it clanged than eight – my companion afterwards said ten – enormous dogs, wolf-hounds and Alsatians, sprang from nowhere upon the fence above us, leaping, snarling, yellow fangs bared in rage. Like the organist, we fled in terror to the moor, preferring the nest of adders to this pack of hungry dogs, and there consulted as to our next move.
Vanishing Cornwall by Daphne du Maurier
A year or so later, Daphne and Foy were joined by their
friend Lady Clara Vyvyan in her car. Clara was determined that they should all gain
entry, although she disliked dogs and they hoped to avoid them.
They hid the car by parking in a nearby lane and crept by
the rectory garden, disturbing the rooks. But there were no dogs, they mused,
Possibly they had starved to death.
Vanishing Cornwall by Daphne du Maurier
They climbed the far hedge, hoping to see the vicar. As they struggled up the bank through the ubiquitous brambles and nettles and ignoring the barbed wire, they saw the Reverend Densham.
There was the vicar, scarcely twenty yards away, pacing up and down his little plot of ground, a strange, unbelievable figure in a dark frockcoat green with age, a black shovel hat upon his head. We stared. He did not see us. Up and down he walked, with heaven knows what melancholy thoughts, what lonely speculations. Suddenly the explorer (Clara Vyvyan) did a crazy thing. She took her handkerchief from her pocket and began to wave it wildly in the air. “Cooee!” she shouted. “Cooee!” (her Australian roots showing here.) The vicar paused. He lifted his head a moment to right and left and walked away, his hands behind his back. Scarlet with shame, I plucked the explorer from the hedge. The last of the trio (Foy) was already running for the car. This expedition, like the first, had proved ignominious. We retreated, cowed.
Vanishing Cornwall by Daphne du Maurier
The three ladies learnt later that the dogs had already
gone, although it is not clear where. This was only a few years after he had
Densham had now fixed up speakers at the church and preached
his echoing sermons so that passers-by could hear him even though they refused
to enter. He built a playground for children and set up a little theatre in one
of his buildings which would show films. He advertised a date and yet again, no
one showed up. He cleared his house and stockpiled food during the war and
applied to the authorities to house evacuees, but none were allocated to him,
Densham, not surprisingly, being designated an unsuitable host for children.
He responded by raising the height of the barbed wire fence
to 12 feet.
He had now painted the doors inside his Rectory with red
crosses and drawn religious names thereon. He wrote new sermons, journals and
continued to preach to empty pews.
Growing ever more insular, Densham did not clean either
himself or his house and began to rip up floorboards for his fire.
After 1951, his story had travelled around the world and
often journalists would turn up to interview him. He was photographed several
times shouting at the local Methodists, but eventually even the journalists
lost interest. Densham was now
spiralling into self-absorption.
One morning in 1953, locals noticed that for several days, there had been no chimney smoke and no sightings of Densham. They bashed the oil drum at the gate, but to no avail. Further investigations revealed the Reverend Densham had died partway up the stairs several days previously and lay there in his final sleep.
His funeral service was attended by no one, save his
solicitor and his ashes were not scattered on his own Garden of Remembrance as
he had requested, but in a Plymouth cemetery.
This sad, possibly misunderstood old man, died alone and lonely and yet his story still circulates as a mystery. It is rumoured that his spirit even now, paces the Rectory Garden and he has been seen walking the lanes with his favourite dog, Gandhi. Densham has been immortalised in several books and most recently in a film called, A Congregation of Ghosts
There has never been another Rector of Warleggan after Densham.
The Rectory was sold, and his paltry possessions taken by his brother or sold
off. The church was soon whitewashed and cleared of any trace of the Reverend
It is worth mentioning that not everyone believed Densham to
be a strange man. As he had often attended the local Methodist Church, some of
their congregation remember him as a misunderstood and kind man, who would
attend the bedsides of sick parishioners and bring them flowers in addition to
his prayers. These fond memories, however, are few and far between.
James Malcolm Maclaren (always known as Malcolm) was a world-renowned geologist and mileage millionaire. He was born in New Zealand and travelled the world as a consulting mining engineer. He was a specialist on the mining of gold, silver, lead, zinc, tin, mercury, copper, china clay, bauxite and phosphate. It was on his advice that many Cornish mines were closed during the early years of the 20th Century, most particularly the 1920’s. He married Harriett, the elder sister of C C Vyvyan, the travel writer. These ladies were of the Williams family of Caerhays and the Powys-Rogers of Stanage Park. Malcolm Maclaren died at the family home of Burncoose, Cornwall in 1935 and is buried at Gwennap Church.
His father – James Monteith Maclaren
His parents, James Monteith Maclaren and Janet MacNeil were both born in Scotland. James Monteith was born in Braes of Balquhidder in 1837, and his family moved from this desolate area to Edinburgh in his young years. This move was a result of the notorious Highland Clearances, when many crofters were moved from their tenanted cottages by their landlords.
As he matured, James studied at Glasgow University and worked for an engineering firm in Glasgow for 5 years. But he was of such delicate health with weak lungs, that the family decided they should send him to relatives in New Zealand where he would fare better in the climate there. Many Scots had gone before them to take part in the Gold Rush. James parents, brothers and sisters remained in Edinburgh and never moved to New Zealand, so James journeyed alone to New Zealand in 1864 on the ship ‘Brechin Castle’, landing at Dunedin.
He soon began working for the Otago Provincial Government, which was involved in mining in Otago and the West Coast. By 1868, James had moved to Thames, the fastest growing town in New Zealand because of it’s mining activities and was appointed the Engineer in Charge of Thames District by the Auckland Provincial Government.
He married Janet Adam McNeil in 1872, when she was 18 and he 35. Janet’s family were from Glasgow and had emigrated to New Zealand in 1869. Janet’s parents, Daniel and Margaret (nee Inglis) McNeil, were confectioners and so it seems that James met their daughter at the store while he had finally begun to get a well-paid job and was ready to settle down. She was remembered by her granddaughter as being five feet nothing and plump but had the same electric blue eyes as her husband, so it is no surprise that these piercing eyes were passed on to their son, Malcolm. Interestingly, grey eyes featured in her grandchildren and great grandchildren.
So, it was in Thames, amongst many fellow Scots, where familiar accents and hotels such as the ‘City of Glasgow’ made it feel like the old country, that they raised their family.
Their first born was James Malcolm Maclaren on the 28th October 1873, although his father did not register him for six weeks. He became the famous and well travelled mining engineer. The Maclarens had six children in total, two of whom died quite young in July 1881 from scarlet fever, during a time when the Thames Schools were closed in a bid to rid the community from this dreadful outbreak. Their son Jack was also a mining engineer but became an invalid following a bout of blackwater fever while he was prospecting alone in the bush. Meg married Ned Wylie and Jessie remained unmarried and was also an invalid, although it appears that she many have been something of a hypochondriac.
The Provincial Government was abolished in 1876 and James rapidly found work in the Government Survey Department, mapping goldfields. By 1878, he had been appointed Inspector of Coal and Gold Mines in the North Island.
Although well respected in this job, the career choice was to become very stressful for James Monteith Maclaren. He had many run-ins with the newly appointed Warden of the Te Aroha Mining District, Harry Kenrick.
Kenrick was causing great trouble with many areas of the District, such as hotels, taverns, law and the courts. James was not left out of the dramas, and when one gentleman was listing reasons Kenrick should be removed from his position, the first two items on the list were;
That he tried to deprive the Inspector of Mines of the Office of Inspector of Coal Mines.
That he tried to deprive the Inspector of Miners’ Rights of the office of Inspector of Miners’ Rights
Maclaren and Kenrick had many clashes which ultimately went higher than their pay grade and resulted in James’s suspension, with his pay being stopped at one point. This suspension would appear to be unfair, but it resulted in James becoming dangerously ill with piles, congested liver and acute bronchitis, which had flared up again. The main bone of contention appeared to be the registering of claims and the rights of miners.
The stress killed Kenrick, while James eventually had his three months pay returned and from 1888 he began working privately as a consultant mining engineer. In 1890 he was appointed Engineer in Charge to Thames, where he remained for 20 years until 1910.
Details of the problems can be found here, most particularly Page 87 onwards, although there are mentions elsewhere in the document.
Janet’s mother, Margaret Inglis MacNeil, lived with them both following her own husband’s death from senility and heart failure. It appeared that Margaret had been working in a domestic capacity for James and Janet.
James Monteith died at 86 on the 16th May 1924 after having suffered from senile decay and a bad heart for over 5 years. Janet died on the 15th July 1936 aged 83 at a private hospital of heart failure. They had not seen their son Malcolm Maclaren for many years.
James Malcolm Maclaren was born in Thames on the 23rd October 1873. The family lived at Parawai in South Thames and the children were schooled in Thames.
Malcolm and his siblings attended initially the oldest school in Thames, the two roomed, Parawai Public School. At 14 years old, Malcolm went to Thames High School in June 1887 from where he matriculated in 1890, winning the Junior Scholarship Senior CCS with Honours. At the Thames School of Mining in 1892, he won The Presidents Medal and School of Mines Medal. Here he studied under James Park, who later became the Professor of Mining at Otago University. James Park was the father of ACM Keith Park, who controlled the Battle of Britain during World War II.
During 1893, money was short in the family probably due to the problems his father was having with Warden Kenrick – ( see above) and on the 13th February, James Malcolm began working at the Bank of New Zealand in Thames. On the 10th March he was transferred to the Auckland branch of the Bank. He was transferred back to Thames on the 22nd August and resigned on 30th June 1894. While Malcolm was earning this extra money for the family, he was also taking evening classes at the School of Mines and obtained a University Scholarship from there. He was offered 10 weeks teaching at the School of Mining as he was respected so much.
Between 1895 and 1896 James took up his scholarship at the Otago School of Mines where there was renewed interest in mining as gold dredging was now booming.
Malcolm moved to Auckland in 1897 where he attended the University College obtaining BSc Hons Geology and a prize for a Senior Scholarship, the 1851 Exhibition Science Scholarship. He had studied here under Professor Thomas and they wrote letters to each other regularly. Examination papers were always marked in the UK and Malcolm’s manuscript was sent by ship. In the style of a novel, the ship was wrecked off Cape Horn and his papers would never arrive at their destination. The University of New Zealand decided that substitute exams held by constituent colleges would suffice. Latin was a compulsory subject and because Malcolm was weak in this subject he failed. Nil desperandum, Malcolm studied hard, passed Latin and achieved his Senior Scholarship in Geology.
As you are no doubt already aware, I was “ploughed” in Latin, much to my astonishment, I must confess, for Prof Tubbs appears to have adopted an unnecessarily high standard. I suppose he thought the honour of the University was at stake. Apart from the bitterness of failing I am glad to have another chance for the scholarship from an examiner and not a hole and corner way in which I would otherwise have held it.
He was one of a group of outstanding students who studied under Thomas and could stand shoulder to shoulder with them. He was proud of his degrees and prizes and he culminated his achievements in a DSc in Geology achieved in 1907, Auckland’s first.
During these studies and exams, Malcolm became the first Director of the Coromandel School of Mines in 1898 before he resigned on the 1st July 1899. He had been offered a job as Mining and Geological Surveyor to the Hauraki Group of Mines before he did a six-month stint from January to June 1900 as the Assistant Geologist to the New Zealand Government. His father was very proud of him.
London and beyond
In April 1901 Malcolm arrived in London ready to take up the 1851 Exhibition Science Scholarship, which he had won in Auckland. He was to study under Judd at the Royal School of Mines. There was a delay here when the School insisted that they had no record of Malcolm’s Scholarship entry and when the paperwork was eventually found, it was at the last minute and Malcolm was at the point of returning to New Zealand. Once he began his studies, he was not impressed with their treatment of him and decided that he would only study for one year and not the three for which the Scholarship was intended. He was also elected Fellow of the Geological Society in London in 1901, while he was at the Royal School of Mines.
Malcolm prophetically wrote;
…whatever opening the future may have for me, it will be something connected with gold.
It must be assumed that Malcolm was already becoming well known for his knowledge and achievements even at 28 years old. He was a good all-rounder and had a very high IQ. Although he was a short, stocky man, reports are of him being between 5’5” and 5’8”, with dark brown hair and a tremendous moustache, of which he was very proud; it was his bright, ice blue eyes which made him instantly memorable. His eyesight was not so brilliant, and it did worsen with age. It might also be deduced that Malcolm was a very lucky man, who was often in the right place at the right time.
Malcolm travelled widely during this time, including Scotland, Wales and Cornwall and almost the rest of the world.
In 1902, Alexander McKay, the New Zealand Government Geologist was declared medically unfit for field work. The New Zealand Government offered the position to Malcolm at a salary of £600 per annum. At the same time, he had been offered the job of Mining Specialist Geological Surveyor in India at a salary of £1000 per annum and sensibly Malcolm travelled to India to take up the position in September 1902.
The New Zealand Government were not ready to give up on Malcolm and sent further offers of salary with Malcolm haggling them upwards, but no agreement could be reached. On the 16th May 1904 Malcolm wrote,
Dear Mr McGowan,
I have to acknowledge receipt of your letter of 18th March containing details of position with regard to the vacant post of NZ Govt Geologist. In reply I, may state that I have decided not to make application at either £600 or £700. The latter figure means at the time of offer a sacrifice of at least £300 per year and more at the present time, but as I have pointed out before, I am under a deep sense of obligation to the N Z Govt. It seems to me, however, that the action of Govt. in calling for applications releases me from any obligation with respect to my last offer, and as £600 will only be half my prospective salary for the next year or so, I cannot reasonably be expected to apply at that figure.
While I am extremely gratified that you should have offered the appointment to me I yet think that calling for applications, and widely advertising the vacant position, is the best way of securing the best man.
So, it was that James Mackintosh Bell was appointed to the position of Government Geologist in New Zealand in November 1904. There were 57 applicants for the £600 post. Bell’s title was changed to Director of the New Zealand Geological Survey as a sweetener for the lack of remuneration. To put the salary in perspective, the Minister offering the post was earning only £800 p.a. The Prime Minister only earned £1600 p.a.
While the negotiations had been going on, James Malcolm Maclaren had also had an offer from the Belgian Congo of £1500 p.a., which he did not accept.
Malcolm finally resigned from the Geological Survey of India in 1906, sure in his belief that he could earn in excess of £2500 p.a. as a private consultant. He spent the following two years travelling the world researching his book, Gold.
Gold, by James Malcolm Maclaren was first published in 1908 and is still available. Although, clearly some of the information has now been updated, it is still informative geologically and historically. It runs to 700 pages with 278 illustrations and one colour plate. The maps and diagrams drawn by James are not only good, but functional. The book was received well with excellent reviews from well-respected journals and organisations. The research helped James Malcolm Maclaren gain a DSc from the University of New Zealand for his work on the Coromandel Goldfields. Malcolm was clear that he had written up much of the research from the miners who were at each mine, Malcolm not having enough time to research each mine himself.
Charlotte Harriett Rogers
Charlotte Harriett (always known as Harriett) was born on the 26th August 1882 in Australia at the family cattle ranch, Stanage, Toorilla Plains, Queensland, to Charlotte (nee Williams of Caerhays Castle) and Edward Powys Rogers of Stanage Park. When she was young, the family moved back to Burncoose in Cornwall, while their father travelled back to Australia at various times, sometimes accompanied by the family and sometimes alone. As the family grew, the children would sail back and to between Australia and England, amongst their many other travelling adventures around the world. It was on one of these Australia sailings that Charlotte Harriett Rogers and James Malcolm Maclaren met and conducted an on-board romance.
The boat was going from England to Australia and Harriett and her sister Clara (C C Vyvyan) were travelling to stay with their father at the ranch for a few months.
Malcolm managed to charm Harriett, even though he was more than 3 inches shorter than her and ten years older. Harriett, like her sister Clara, was just over 5’10” and beautiful. Malcolm often went without his glasses and his bright blue eyes were attractive and hypnotic and the pair appeared to hit it off. Malcolm spoke seven languages, had considerable artistic ability and a high IQ. He had every intention of earning money and travelling the world and this interested Harriett, an intelligent and much travelled woman herself.
Her sister Clara was less than impressed with Malcolm.
Malcolm told Harriett of his book and his travels and adventures. He also told her about the money he sent back to New Zealand to his parents. It was 1909 and his father James Monteith was to retire from his government position within a year and his maternal grandmother was also living at home. Malcolm needed more time to set his family up before he could consider marriage. They did reach an understanding, however.
Harriett was an excellent musician, singer and artist and had already travelled widely herself. Her family, wealthy gentry who owned a castle and mansions, were involved in mining in Cornwall.
They complimented each other perfectly.
Harriet and Clara continued to the cattle station and James to his mine meetings. They corresponded regularly. Charlotte Rogers, Harriett’s mother did not approve of James Malcolm Maclaren, considering him common. Malcolm often visited the family at Burncoose in Cornwall, part of the Caerhays Estate and got on with his future father in law Edward Rogers and the Williams of Caerhays cousins. Malcolm was a good shot and often went shooting on the estates for snipe, pheasants etc. He and the menfolk could discuss mining and Malcolm advised the family on mine shares and investments. Charlotte (always a snob – but a kind one) was won over. The couple married on New Year’s Eve 1912 at Gwennap Parish Church and began their life travelling the world.
A marriage of interest to many folk in Kalgoorlie is thus described by the “Royal Cornwall Gazette” The marriage of Miss Charlotte Harriett Powys Rogers, eldest daughter of Mr. E. Powys Rogers, of Toorilla, Queensland residing at Burncoose, Perranwall. To Mr. J Malcolm Maclaren, younger son of Mr. J. M. Maclaren, of Thames (N.Z.), was solemnised at Gwennap Parish Church on Tuesday. Much local interest was manifested in the wedding, and the church was crowded some time, before the bridal party arrived. The bride, who looked very charming in her trousseau of deep ivory charmeuse and crepe chiffon. with a Court train, lined with silver throughout and trimmed with silver roses and Brussels lace,(the gift of Mrs Pocklington Coltman), was given away by her father. She carried a beautiful bouquet of carnations, white heather, and fern, tied with MacLaren tartan ribbon. The bridesmaids were Misses Clara and: Naomi Powys Rogers (sisters of the bride), Gwladys Rogers, May Williams and Mary Arnott (cousins), and Miss Davies Gilbert, who wore dresses of deep ivory satin and tinted lace, with waist belts of deep rose. chiffon, old gold plait and posy of small Banksia roses, with head-dress of small Banksia, roses and gold tinsel net. They also wore pendants of New Zealand green stone, Queensland pearl and Cornish diamonds, the gift of the bride groom. The charming group were provided, with bouquets of white chrysanthemums and fern tied with broad ribbon of the Maclaren tartan, Mr. Edward Loring, London, was groomsman. Mrs. Powys Rogers was attired in a charming. dress of violet chiffon velours and toque to match, and. carried a bouquet-of purple orchids. The service, which was choral, was conducted by the Bishop of St. Germans assisted by the Rev. J. L. Parker, MI.A., vicar of Gwennap. The church had been beautifully decorated and presented. a pleasing appearance with its adornments of plants and flowers, mostly chrysanthemum ferns and palms. An awning was erected from the entrance to the south porch, while a crimson carpet was laid to the altar steps. Mr. McLaggan, the organist played as voluntaries Wagner’s Bridal Chorus and Mendelssohn’s Wedding March and the hymns ‘The voice that breathed o’er Eden’ and ‘O Perfect Love,’ were sung. After signing the register Mr and Mrs. Maclaren returned by motor car for Burncoose, entering the ground ‘under a triumphal arch of evergreens intertwined with the national colours. A crowd of well wishers gave them a hearty send-off from the church. Mrs. MacLaren is very popular in the district by reason of her good works. among the sick and poor and she has also been great help at Gwennap Sunday School. The reception at Burncoose was largely attended. A splendid scheme of decorations had been carried out in the house and the conservatory was fitted up with fairy lamps which when lighted in the evening made a charming display. During the afternoon the happy couple left for honeymoon and will leave England for Burma about the middle of January. The bride’s travelling dress was a coat and skirt of dark red cloth with a black and white brocade hat.
Kalgoorlie Western Argus
Much information was left in the diaries which Harriett kept and some of the following stories has been gleaned from them.
On New Year’s Day, the couple began their honeymoon at Trevenith Cottage, Ruan Minor, Cornwall. They remained there until the 10th January when they returned to Burncoose. Three days later they were in London, staying at some Williams relatives until they left by train, boat and train to Paris. They sailed to the Mediterranean where Malcolm was feverish and ill, it took him several days to recover.
They were travelling with Sir William Conyngham Greene, who had just been appointed Ambassador to Japan, and Harriet notes the flying fish and whales that they all saw.
By mid-February they were visiting mines in Burma where they remained for three months. Harriett would always write out the reports for Malcolm, a habit she kept up until his death.
They went to Rangoon, Singapore and Bali. They endured rough seas in small ships, Harriett was unperturbed, and Malcolm would regularly feel sick. He was often tired and ill while at the mines, enough so that Harriett recorded the fact. She sometimes said he had a fever or cold or cough, they had only been married for a few months and Harriett was very healthy and pregnant.
Once they dined with the Faulkners from Shropshire and where shown the Stanage plate they possessed, Stanage being the ancestral home of the Rogers family.
They fished and watched the bird life, those they did not draw, they shot, using pistols and rifles. Harriet was often playing her piano. One day Harriet saw a waggon being drawn by 21 donkeys, while Malcolm was working in the mines. He would receive a telegram from London telling him where next to go. He had been working for Bewick, Moering and Co. but was now employed by the Goldfields Group which had been founded by Cecil Rhodes.
By July 1913 they were at Kalgoorlie and Malcolm was ill again, cold, cough and bad headaches. Harriett complained not at all even with this first pregnancy.
In a relatively short time, the couple had travelled many miles and Harriett recorded much of it.
Children and The Great War
The couple hoped for and expected a son as their first born. Jean arrived in Australia on the 25th October 1913 and always felt as though she disappointed them. Harriett and Malcolm made it plain that they did not wish to have any daughters, only sons and Jean recorded later in her life,
It is difficult for me to write objectively about my father as I did not like him very much. No doubt I was an unattractive, tiresome child but I could do nothing in his eyes and he was always picking on me.
It wasn’t till long after I was grown up that I realised what must have been the cause of this animosity. Neither he nor my mother ever wanted a daughter and to have a girl as their first born must have been an unpleasant shock! Of course, nothing was known of psychology in those days and in any case, they quickly rectified their mistake by producing Edward (in Korea) only 20 months later! Incidentally, so anti girls was my mother that she got really acid with people while I was waiting to produce Richard, “Oh Mrs Maclaren, now you have 6 grandsons aren’t you just longing for Jean to have a sweet little girl?” “Certainly not!” was the reply.
Charlotte’s brother Michael met them and spent a good deal of time with the Maclarens, Harriett noticing how depressed he was about the cattle. Malcolm accompanied Michael on many shooting and fishing expeditions until Dr Voss allowed Jean and her mother to accompany them. Harriett was also in constant letter contact with her family back in Cornwall. It was not until 7th December that Harriett received 21 letters of congratulations on Jeans arrival.
They soon suffered the sad news that Harriet’s sister and Naomi and brother Harry had both died. Naomi from an asthma attack and Harry on a ship. Malcolm continued his work with the mines but was now given a special role as the Great War approached.
The British Government gave him the job of travelling the world and purchasing all the available Wolfram (Tungsten). He had to journey incognito as an American businessman in order to attract little attention. There are few records of his capers in this regard, for obvious reasons. Malcolm never talked much to his family about this part of his life, although he did mention that he was in Spain for a good part of that time. He also maintained his private work as a consultant mining engineer and he and Harriet kept up their travelling. Their son Edward was born in Korea on 24th June 1915 and it was here that Harriet had to milk a goat in order to supplement the boy’s food. The goat was not used to being milked, but Harriet would not be dissuaded. Malcolm continued to work for the British Government after the War. He advised on the mining problems that were occurring following the changing of national boundaries.
Their second son Colin Neil was born on the 25th October 1917. The family moved to Chyrose, Redruth from where Malcolm continued to travel the world.
By 1919, the family moved to Burncoose and this was their home for the remainder of Malcolm’s life. Harriett was carrying the twins Margaret and Peter who were born on the 19th April. Jean remembered while discussing Harriett’s fondness for boys,
Of course, they did have Margaret later on but that was a different matter. She brought a twin brother with her and she was a lovely pretty model child. I can just remember her the days the twins were born. Peter was quite bald, but Margaret had lovely dark curls.
Harriett’s father was ailing with his final illness (He died in February 1920) and her mother Charlotte now needed company.
Harriett could return to her roots of servants, hunting, shooting and socialising with her peers, the local gentry. They had always had servants while travelling, but now she had family servants. Malcolm had come into his own with the Williams relatives, attending shoots regularly and regaling them with tales of his large animal kills. Their daughter Jean remembers,
My father was said to be a fair shot in spite of his poor sight, but he had to have something special done to his gun before he could use it. When we were young there were 2 tiger skins taking up a lot of floor space in the drawing room at Burncoose. We hated it because it was a crime to step on them. He had shot them from a hide up a tree in Burma. They’d been menacing the neighbouring villagers. But he also did a lot of partridge ad snipe shooting in Cornwall. My snobbish Grandmother was upset at her Harriett marrying a colonial, but all the Williams men cousins liked him because of his shooting and also because of his mining knowledge. They still had many mining interests then. He was passionately interested in cricket – the only interest I had in common with him – but I doubt if he would have been much good at it – his sight was too poor.
There was also a story that Malcolm took no interest in his children, preferring his work and his hobbies and his wife. He once asked his son Peter to show him where his room was. Jean said,
…we perhaps are not taking into account the customs of the time when that incident occurred. No man living at this time in a house the size of Burncoose would have anything to do with domestic arrangements – in fact I doubt if he ever went to the back parts of the house. After all there were at least 4 servants in the house plus nannies and governesses. In any case, none of us kept the same bedroom all the time of our childhood.
He did take a great interest in the children but I’m sure Mother came first, second and third, as, of course, he did with her. Then obviously a lot of the time he wasn’t at home because most of his work was outside the UK.
The children always referred to their parents as Daddy and Mother.
Having produced 5 children in less than 7 years, Harriett and Malcolm decided their family was complete. Harriet was almost 40 and Malcolm almost 50.
While Malcolm was working with the UK government, he was also advising on the closure of Cornish tin mines. Jean again,
Although in his later years most of his work was in gold mines he never really gave up on other minerals. For instance, many of the last of the great Cornish tin mines were closed because of his reports and I think this must have been in the late twenties. These mines had to be closed because a) tin prices fell because of the cheaper production costs of tine from the streams in Malaya and b) because of the increasing cost of pumping as the mines got deeper.
In 1920 Malcolm prepared the report which finally closed the Dolcoath Mine when the mine was almost worked out and the tin price had collapsed.
During his working life Malcolm travelled the entire world with the exception of Russia. In each continent Malcolm visited many towns and many rural districts, that being where the mines were based. He visited most places more than once and often received telegrams from his office telling him where to go next. He regularly did not make it home for months on end. Harriett often recorded in her diary that Malcolm had just returned from somewhere looking tired and ill or that Malcolm must leave again.
In 1926 he visited Africa and managed to clock up 6000 miles while travelling by train and car. In the 28 months from August 1932 to December 1933, Malcolm spent only 2 months at home. It was by 1929 that he became a mileage millionaire, second only to J H Curle, the famous philatelist.
During his working years he held the proud title of ‘second most travelled man in the world. My mother was very proud of this. It meant that (except for the No 1 traveller who was an American millionaire called J H Curle) he’d travelled more miles by land and sea than anyone else.
On one of their last trips to Africa, Harriet achieved the record for having been deeper in a mine than any woman. She went down 7522 ft in Witwatersrand mine, South Africa in 1929.
During his last journey Malcolm became ill in Western Australia, but he remained professional, completing this contract and another one in Victoria. He spent some time at a hospital in Australia and then sailed home, hoping that the journey would cure him. He came back to Burncoose to recuperate after an operation in a London Clinic where he was diagnosed with a serious lung condition during January 1935. Sadly, he became worse and died on the 13th March and was buried at Gwennap Church, in a service conducted by the Rev J E Durch.
The service was attended by the following amongst others;
Harriett and her four surviving children – Neil had died in May 1932 at his school. Harriet’s brother Michael, who now lived at St Columb and her sister Lady Vyvyan, now at Trelowarren. The Williams cousins from Caerhays Castle and Scorrier House. Also, the Bolithos, the Beauchamps and many of Cornish society families. There were several members of the Burncoose servants present too.
Although he was not teetotal like my mother, I don’t think he was very keen on drink. I can remember Bass (for the men only on shooting parties or fishing trips) one decanter of whiskey and strangely Van Der Hum! But I imagine nothing was drunk unless there were visitors. Drinking to excess would have been quite out of character with his disciplined and strict nature. He did smoke quite a lot of cigars so they may have been the cause of the lung cancer from which he died. He took ill in West Australia and was in hospital with a kind of nursing nun but returned to England to die. He was in the London Clinic and then went home to Burncoose for his last week or two.
Jean also remembered,
It seems very obvious that Daddy had a very high IQ – I would guess in the genius bracket and was something of all-rounder. He must have had considerable artistic ability because his plans and maps and diagrams were really beautiful as well as functional. Then he was reputed to have spoke 7 languages and his use of English was accurate.
True he was tone deaf as were all five children. This must have been a trial to Mother who was keen on music and played the organ as well as the piano.
He was a very skilful carpenter and really professional at French polishing. Mother used to buy furniture at auctions and he renovated it beautifully.
He got quite a lot of publicity because he had a friend on the Daily Mail who was always ringing up. I got beaten once for telling that man not to be silly and hanging up on him. All his exploits were reported in the New Zealand papers – much to his mothers’ pride. In fact, he was considered one of New Zealand’s most famous sons.
He was also an ornithologist, a practising Christian and managed on 4 hours sleep each night. He studied Cornish genealogies and history and kept bees, was good with machinery and mechanics.
There were so many obituaries in all the well-respected journals and there is only room for a few extracts here.
“Maclaren was so adverse from publicity, that the fact of his recent serious illness was probably not widely known, anymore than the decisive part which he played in the destinies of many great mines, where his reports and advice were accepted as decisive by the big mining groups in whose service he passed most of his extraordinary active career.”
“To a world-wide circle of mining engineers Dr Maclaren was known as perhaps the most eminent and widely travelled of present day economic geologists.”
“Indefatigable as a worker, concise in his reports, outrageous in his convictions, his ripe judgement and integrity earned the unshaken confidence of large groups who esteemed themselves fortunate in counting on his advice.”
Following Malcolm’s death, Harriett moved to Lenowith, Feock, before she moved to Africa in 1948 after her own mother had died, to be with her daughter. Her three sons had all died tragically and her two daughters were happy to have her. Harriett died in 1964 and is buried in the family graveyard there.
With great thanks to the surviving descendants of the Maclaren family, without whose help this article could not have been written.
Following my original article on Lady Clara, I came into further information which I shall detail here. I also have been given permission to share some memories from her surviving great nephews. Hopefully these new stories will help to illustrate Clara’s character and relationships with her family. You may care to read the original article in order to obtain more background and dates, which I do not feel necessary to repeat here.
Incidentally, although the author of several books and writer of many articles, Clara rarely spoke to her family about her successes.
Clara recalled in a letter she wrote in 1972,
‘My mother on reading my first book Cornish Silhouettes in 1924 (forty-seven years ago) opened it and found the word ‘Damn!’ on the first page that she read and remarked drily, “Pray, is all the rest of the book like this? The other exception was my brother Michael; who said he liked best something that I wrote about foxgloves.’
Charlotte Rogers nee Williams born 6th May 1854
Clara married Sir Courtenay Vyvyan after being friends with him and his wife for many years. They were near neighbours and social equals. Clara and the baronet had spent time working together at Rouen during WW1. They did not marry until 1929, 18 months after Sir Courtenay’s first wife died. Clara always referred to her short marriage, which only lasted 11 years until her husband’s death, as her happiest time. The couple were in love and shared a common passion for flora, fauna and Trelowarren. Clara lived at Trelowarren for almost fifty years.
And died there.
The Daily Standard Brisbane
Monday 23rd September 1929,
QUEENSLAND GIRL ENGAGED TO CORNISH BARONET.
The engagement is announced of
Colonel Sir Courtenay Bourchier
Vyvyan to Miss Clara Coltman Rogers,
second daughter of the late Edward
Powys Rogers, of Toorilla Plains,
Colonel Sir Courtenay Bourchier
Vyvyan, 10th baronet, Is the eldest
son of the late Rev. Sir V. Vyvyan,
and was born on June 5th, 1858. He
took an active part in every war in
which Britain has been engaged since
he entered the army in 1878, and
frequently was mentioned in dispatches.
Almost immediately after her husband died, Trelowarren was requisitioned by the Army. They had been taking in evacuee children since the beginning of the war and it had then been used to house W.A.A.F.’s and then by 2,000 (sometimes destructive) troops. So, Clara went to do her ‘War Work’ in Bristol. She worked through the war years based in a dingy office next to a bombed-out house. She was responsible for the maintenance of clothes and household goods collected for the bombed and needy in the South West and the Cotswolds. From this office, she would walk down the concrete steps, across a flooded floor, which had once belonged to the kitchen of the shattered house and walk to her tiny rented flat. Clara said that she had never been so lonely as she was at that time. Homeless, widowed and alone. She remembered taking great delight in noticing one day in 1944, a tiny coltsfoot plant which had snuck under the dividing wall to brighten the grey, damp, drab yard outside her office.
Clara soon settled in however and expanded her ‘War Work’ to accompanying refugee children and bombed out elderly people from London to various destinations around Britain. Clara often visited new friends and helped some on their farms and continued to enjoy where possible, the country experience she was missing so dreadfully. She made every day count.
We should move sideways in Clara’s story and bring in her familial relationships in more detail. In these accounts, ‘Granny’ refers to Charlotte Harriet, elder sister of Clara. ‘Aunt Kay’ refers to Clara, it being a pet name of her nephews and nieces. No one quite remembers the origin of Clara becoming Aunt Kay and I have yet to discover anyone outside of the family who used that name.
Their father Edward Powys Rogers, who was the second son of Rev J Rogers of Stanage Park, Hertfordshire shipped out to Australia in 1873 and took over Toorilla Plains, Rockhampton, Queensland from his uncle, Frank Newbold (brother of Edward’s mother). Frank had taken up Toorilla Plains in 1859 and turned it into a huge and successful cattle station. Edward travelled from England with his first cousin Edmund de Norbury Rogers who settled in central Queensland and eventually created a large fruit farm.
A nephew says,
‘It was a huge acreage I remember Granny saying. Edward managed Toorilla until the end of the 1880’s, introducing Herefords successfully. When he returned to England to live at Burncoose, he kept a close interest in Toorilla, visiting frequently. It was eventually taken on by his second child, Charles Michael Rogers (born 1st March 1884) and who was still managing it when his father died in 1920. Aunt Kay eventually married Sir Courtenay Vyvyan of Trelowarren, Cornwall and was a well-known travel writer. Granny and Aunt Kay had a wonderful relationship.’
Clara wrote in Roots and Stars,
‘many a time when we were children, we would persuade my father to repeat to us the tale of his Uncle Frank Newbold who was forced to eat his boots after being shipwrecked on his way to Australia and of Uncle Willie Newbold who met his violent death on the Queensland plain. My mother would never speak of those great uncles by marriage, she did not think they adorned the family pedigree but we children all felt it was a fine distinction to have such people amongst our ancestors.’
Willie had been killed by Aboriginal Australians.
There was a great deal of travelling between the Cornish properties and the Queensland ranch. Ship passenger lists show regular travel for the entire family to Plymouth and back. The family always travelled First Class. I don’t know why, but were listed as Irish on those sea crossings, perhaps Cornish was mis-transcribed.
Edward had a couple of dealings with the Rockhampton Police Court and the law while there.
In 1887 he was tried in his absence for non-payment of a fine to the Gogango Marsupial Board. At this point there were 10,500 head of cattle on the ranch and 100 horses. The Board stated that there were also sheep on the ranch. Edward did not attend the hearing and refused to pay the fine as the State had not pursued him until more than six months following the fine application date. The fine was £26.10 with a 10% penalty, plus costs. The original fine was dated 17th April 1886 and the case was heard on the 7th September 1887. There was a possibility that they would remove his grazing rights. In the end, the case was adjourned for a fortnight. At the second hearing which Edward did not attend either pleading innocence, he was fined £20.10 plus 10% including costs. It didn’t affect his future however, as he was already a magistrate, a JP and soon became a member of the Gogango Marsupial Board, as did his son Charles Michael in turn.
In 1901 Edward inherited £14,100 following the death of his cousin George Frank Rogers, who had spent his life in London as a lawyer and his final years living at Toorilla.
Edward died in 1920 and the following was published locally,
The Capricornian Rockhampton
The seal of probate has
been granted of the will of Edward Powys
Rogers, formerly of Burncoose, Gwennap,
in the county of Cornwall, England,
but late of Tregye, Perranwell,
gentleman deceased to Robert Cecil Boland.
the lawfully appointed attorney of Charlotte Rogers,
of Tregye, Perranwell, the
sole executrix. Mr. P. T. Read Jones,
solicitor for the attorney, appeared in the
Edward left to his wife, Charlotte. £35,787.
The Capricornian Rockhampton, March 12th 1920.
Another old pioneer of our grazing
industry, Mr. Edward Powys Rogers, of
Toorilla Station has passed away. Mr.
Rogers was born in 1855. He was
educated at Wellington College, England, and,
at the age of seventeen years, in 1873,
on the death of his uncle, Mr. Frank
Newbold, of Toorilla, came out from England
to that station, where he gained his
colonial experience under the management of
the late Mr. J. C. Collins. In 1879 he took
full charge of the station, and in 1879 he
was married to Miss Charlotte Williams,
daughter of Mr. John Michael Williams,
of Caerhays Castle, Cornwall. About
1906 he returned to England, where,
except for occasional trips to Queensland,
he afterwards resided. For the last six
months his health had been failing. Mr.
Rogers was a keen sportsman both on land
and sea. He took special interest in
horse racing. He was a keen student of
stock matters. He was a great believer
in the Hereford breed of cattle, in fact,
the herd of Herefords that he founded on
Toorilla may claim to be one of the best in
Queensland. Mr. Rogers was for some
time a member of the Gogango Divisional
Board and the Gogango Marsupial Board.
He always took much interest in the
welfare of the country. There were five
children of the marriage — two sons and
three daughters — of whom one son, Mr.
C. M. Rogers, of Toorilla, and two
daughters, Mrs. MacLaren and Miss C. Rogers,
are living, the second son, Lieutenant H.
P. Rogers, R.N, being been lost in the
ill-fated Monmouth off the coast of Chile.
In the early days of the war Mr. C. M.
Rogers joined the British Army, the
Dorset Yeomanry, and obtained his discharge
in February 1919. Mr. Rogers is also
survived by Mrs. Rogers and five
grandchildren, for whom as well as the rest of
the bereaved family, deep sympathy
will be felt by a large circle of friends
and acquaintances both in Australia and
Clara was a very fit woman despite chain smoking Turkish cigarettes known as Balkan Sobranie and Egyptian Abdullas, She travelled the world, often alone and just as often with her friends or brother Michael (Michael suffered from depression) or sister Harriet. Michael would travel to meet Clara either from the ranch in Queensland or from Burncoose. He would leave his wife and son (also Michael) and join his sister for another adventure. They both liked a drink too, although Michael liked it more than most.
The Queensland ranch was sold during the 1930’s and Michael remained in Cornwall with his family. He often visited Clara at Trelowarren and would take the largest box of market garden produce home, when offered. Clara said that he did it without thought. They went to Austria in 1938 to visit castles and stayed at a beautiful hotel there. Clara remembered the patron worrying about the letters he was receiving from the authorities, asking if he or his family had any Jewish blood.
Clara trained as a social worker in London. She graduated with distinction from the London School of Economics with a degree in Social Science in 1913. Then she worked in the London slums for the Charity Organization Society. Her sister Harriet was one of the founding members of St Loyes School in Exeter and regularly attended meetings there. The family had an affinity with those less fortunate than themselves. They were aware that they were privileged but felt no guilt for that fact. They simply liked to help others.
Kalgoorlie Western Argus
A marriage of interest to many
folk in Kalgoorlie is thus described
by the “Royal Cornwall Gazette”
The marriage of Miss Charlotte
Harriett Powys Rogers, eldest daughter
of Mr. E. Powys Rogers, of
Toorilla, Queensland residing at
Burncoose, Perranwall. To Mr. J
Malcolm Maclaren, younger son of
Mr. J. M. Maclaren, of Thames (N.Z.),
was solemnised at Gwennap Parish
Church on Tuesday. Much local
interest was manifested in the
wedding, and the church was crowded
some time before the bridal party
arrived. The bride, who looked
very charming in her trousseau of
deep ivory charmeuse and crepe
chiffon. with a Court train, lined
with silver throughout and trimmed
with silver roses and Brussels lace,
(the gift of Mrs Pocklington
Coltman), was given away by her father.
She carried a beautiful bouquet of
carnations, white heather and fern,
tied with Maclaren tartan ribbon.
The bridesmaids were Misses Clara
and Naomi Powys Rogers (sisters of
the bride), Gwladys Rogers, May
Williams and Mary Arnott
(cousins), and Miss Davies Gilbert,
who wore dresses of deep ivory satin
and tinted lace, with waist belts of
deep rose. chiffon, old gold plait and
posy of small Banksia roses, with
head-dress of small Banksia, roses
and gold tinsel net. They also wore
pendants of New Zealand green
stone, Queensland pearl and
Cornish diamonds, the gift of the bride
groom. The charming group were
provided, with bouquets of white
chrysanthemums and fern tied with
broad ribbon of the. Maclaren tartan,
Mr. Edward Loring, London, was
groomsman. Mrs. Powys Rogers
was attired in a charming dress
of violet chiffon velours and toque
to match, and carried a bouquet of
purple orchids. The service, which
was choral, was conducted by the
Bishop of St. Germans assisted by
the Rev. J. L. Parker, MI.A., vicar
of Gwennap. The church had been
beautifully decorated and presented
a pleasing appearance with its
adornments of plants and flowers,
mostly chrysanthemum ferns and palms.
An awning was erected from the
entrance to the south porch, while a
crimson carpet was laid to the altar
steps. Mr. McLaggan, the organist
played as voluntaries Wagner’s
Bridal Chorus and Mendelssohn’s
Wedding March and the hymns
‘The voice that breathed o’er Eden’
and ‘O Perfect Love,’ were sung.
After signing the register
Mr and Mrs. Maclaren returned by
motor car for Burncoose, entering
the ground ‘under a triumphal arch
of evergreens intertwined with the
national colours. A crowd of well
wishers gave them a hearty send-off
from the church. Mrs. Maclaren is
very popular in the district by reason
of her good works. among the sick
and poor and she has also been
great help at Gwennap Sunday
School. The reception at
Burncoose was largely attended. A
splendid scheme of decorations had
been carried out in the house and
the conservatory was fitted up with
fairy lamps which when lighted in
the evening made a charming display.
During the afternoon the happy couple left
for honeymoon and will leave England
for Burma about the middle of
January. The bride’s travelling dress
was a coat and skirt of dark red
cloth with a black and white
Harriet Maclaren in her 20’s
Harriet MacLaren later in her life
Clara’s sister Charlotte Harriet, was born on the 26th August 1882 at Rockhampton. Clara loved Harriet as she did all her siblings and the girls were as independent as each other. They looked very similar too and as they aged, the similarity did not alter much. Indeed, her great nephews have remembered from their visits to Trelowarren when they were children, that the pair looked so much alike, it was uncanny.
Clara in her 20’s
Clara later in her life
One told me,
‘Aunt Kay, as she was always known in our family, was an inspiring character and although I only knew her late in her life, I saw her quite often in the late 60’s and very early 70’s, while I was in the UK at University. We had a good relationship and enjoyed each other’s company. She was my maternal grandmother’s sister, Charlotte Harriet Maclaren. I had been very close to Granny and had only recently lost her when I first met Aunt Kay. Their similarities, both physically and in character, created a warm link, which Aunt Kay enjoyed knowing.’
‘I was born and brought up in Northern Rhodesia/Zambia and Harriet lived with us from when I was born until her death in 1964. Harriet never travelled back to England in that time and thus the two sisters never saw each other in their later years. They did keep up a regular correspondence however, through weekly letters, so were obviously close. CCV was often talked about and all her books, published articles, etc., were proudly read. CHM would talk about their early life on the station in Queensland.’
Charlotte Harriet died at the family farm, Muckleneuk, Zambia in August 1964. She was buried in the family graveyard beside members of her family including her son Peter, her daughter, Margaret (Peter’s twin) and Paddy, Margaret’s husband.
Peter was the father of three boys.
I was told,
‘Poor Granny Maclaren (Harriet) lost all three sons early, one at school of an appendix, one killed in WW2, by an English drunk driver, or perhaps in a tank accident (varies from story to story) in North Yorkshire and my father by crocodile in 1956.My father worked with the Ministry of Agriculture and Fish in what was then the colonial service in Nigeria and North and South Rhodesia. He taught the locals how to make and use fishing nets (give a man a fish and you feed for a day, teach a man to fish and you feed him for life). I was just 4 when a crocodile got the better of him. ‘Uncle Michael, (son of Charles Michael, nephew of Clara and Harriet), felt so sorry for my widowed mum with 3 small boys, he set up a trust to pay for our schooling at Stowe where my father had gone.’
‘We would visit Aunt Kay a couple times a year either camping with my two brothers, or while staying at Burncoose with P M Williams. My brother kept up writing to her until her death. Aunt Kay was a lovely lady, quite eccentric, wore old coats tied up with string, drank lemon verbena tea. Oh, and made the most fantastic saffron cake. That is the sort of thing a ten-year-old remembers.
My mum had the task of cataloguing Kay’s huge library and dispersing the books around – many first editions and signed copies.’
‘My grandmother, Clara’s sister, travelled with her husband by every form of transport there was, boat, train, bicycle, horse and camel. She and Aunt Kay looked very alike and probably were made of the same stuff – i.e. no wimps.’
‘I visited Clara (or Aunt Kay as we called her) several times in her Trelowarren house. Once she took me down a maze of corridors to visit Foy Quiller-Couch who lived at the far end of the mansion. There was something very strange, mystical, fairy-tale, about these two old ladies each living in a tiny section of this great mansion and seeing each other only a couple of times a month. I liked Kay a lot. She was a few generations ahead of her time in some ways but a few behind in others.’
Foy lived with Clara in her wing at Trelowarren for many years. The women had been friends for almost all their lives and spoke highly of each other. Clara found her company comforting when she felt particularly vulnerable as she gradually lost her hearing, sight and strength. Foy eventually became ill and moved from damp and cold Trelowarren in 1971 to a flat in Lanhydrock before her final rest at Bodmin. This was the same time that the heir John Vyvyan, was having Sir Courtenay and Lady Clara’s precious gardens, orchards and beech grove, where Sir Courtenay’s ashes had been spread in 1941, bulldozed to make way for caravan pitches.
Clara it seems was ruggedly independent and not the slightest interested in ideas of male superiority. She loved natural history and books as any reader of her work will testify.
A great nephew,
‘One thing I will say, when Aunt Kay died, we were all asked what we wanted from her estate. Her valuable book collection – full of signed first editions. She had left all her possessions to a relative and he didn’t invite her to his mother’s funeral because “it’s just for close family”. Kay was dressed and ready to go to the funeral when she was told this. Then she went out one day for a walk and arrived back to see a removal van in her yard. What are you doing? They were carting away some of her precious books without her knowledge, because she had already left them to her “nephew” in advance of her death, probably to escape death duties. Sad way to spend your last few years.’
‘When my wife and I were married, we asked Aunt Kay to the wedding, but she decided she’d rather not attend the event, preferring instead a quiet weekend with us both beforehand. Thus, about a month before the wedding in March 1970, I drove down to Trelowarren from Somerset and fetched her for the weekend. She had a lovely time with us and surprised us by producing for my fiancée’s wedding present a shabby recycled envelope from her artist’s smock pocket; this had an equally shabby jewel case in it and inside that was an exquisite Victorian diamond and pearl pendant on a silver chain. We were gobsmacked – it wasn’t paste as we first thought, but the real thing, mounted on platinum and worth then a small fortune. (Heaven alone knows what the piece is worth now.) My wife wore it at our wedding and it’s been one of our prize possessions ever since, as you might imagine. Kay gave me a cheque for £25 as my wedding present, in itself a very nice gift! ‘
In, The Helford River, Clara told many tales of her adventures on the river and the banks bordering the Trelowarren lands. There were tales of picnics, boating and fishing. One of her great nephews remembers shrimping with her.
‘I was staying with Kay at Trelowarren, when she suggested going out to catch shrimp for our supper. We went down to her favourite spot on the Helford Estuary, armed with her trusty shrimping nets. It was a new venture for me but being 90% blind didn’t deter her showing her colonial nephew how to do it and we soon had our supper in the bag. I treasure a lovely memory of Kay, her long skirt tucked up into her voluminous pantaloons leading the way in what I thought were very chilly waters. She wore a set of yellowing, unmatched pearls in a long rope around her neck and when I enquired why she wore them out shrimping, she promptly told me that the blessed things needed airing she’d been told and she only wore them out shrimping, hoping the string might break so she could lose them! They had been in the Vyvyan family for hundreds of years, given by one of the Kings Henry (I forget which) as a gift when he and his Queen had had to call off their planned visit due to some crisis in the Royal Court. The pearls were known, by Kay at any rate, as the Henrietta Pearls. She always wore her favourite red artist’s smock, tied at the waist with binder twine, long skirts, sensible brogues and a bedraggled black beret. On leaving for a walk or ‘an excursion’ as she called them, she habitually patted her pockets, muttering her checklist of “knife, baccy and matches”. When I knew her, she was still smoking occasionally and always the oval Egyptian ‘Abdullas’, sent to her in neatly packaged boxes of 500 by Harrods.’
‘I am guessing she was anti-American (as most English people were of that age and class) because of the cultural and educational differences and resented the need to make Trelowarren available for the soldiers. Although of course she would have been greatly behind their invaluable contribution to the war effort. Two books cast light on her attitude to Americans, other than the works you mention. One was Kay’s insight from her visit to the States (Nothing Venture) I can also recall when she told me she was appalled by the way her American host treated his wife. Another was a book by Daphne du Maurier where she doesn’t mention Kay by name but is clearly referring to her and was based on the American “occupation” of Cornwall during the war, and Kay’s resistance to it. (Rule Britannia.)
Kay showed me the wooden strips that “the Americans” had nailed on her staircases to avoid damage by the hob-nailed boots of the soldiers. This did not strike me as “utter carnage” (although I don’t know what was happening outside the house). On the contrary, I was impressed that the troops had bothered to go to so much trouble.’
Clara wrote about the carnage in the garden and grounds in her many articles and her book The Old Place.
‘I remember hearing that she had a car accident while driving just outside the gates of her home. She ran over and killed a pedestrian. She was so upset by this she never drove again, although I do remember going into “town” on a horse and trap with her. I thought that was fun, although I now realise it’s because we couldn’t go by car.’
‘One memory that casts some light on her attitudes. She had no time at all for my godfather, Peter Michael Williams (cousin PM) who lived at Burncoose. My father has been born there and I visited Burncoose quite a number of times. Presumably, Kay was a first cousin to PM, who was a bachelor and a businessman. PM was a millionaire. “Do you know what his ambition is?” Kay asked me once. “To double his money before he dies! Can you imagine that? What an awful man!” Or something like that. In other words, money was not a big part of Kay’s life and was not a motivator. I came to feel a bit sorry for her, because she was obviously a very capable person, with a good education but a career was not a possibility for a woman of her class and generation. She was allowed only to do good works, for free. So, she filled in her life by gardening, by travel and by writing. From my generation’s perspective, I think she would have got more out of life if circumstances had allowed her to make a more meaty contribution to her community. That is not to disparage her considerable writing talent.’
Clara had changing views about Peter Williams. They met constantly as cousins and often travelled together in Peter’s chauffeur driven Rolls Royce. Several times Peter arranged for a joint birthday party with Clara, where there would be a cake each at opposite ends of the table – often from Fortnum and Mason – and they would each eat a slice and then Clara would be taken back to Trelowarren. Clara worried about him when he was ill later in his life. He suffered with his gall bladder but could not have an operation because of his weight and his weak heart. It killed him eventually. Following his death Clara noted that everyone she knew was either ill or dead. She wrote in a letter after she had attended Peter’s funeral,
‘Yes, I do agree with you about P.M.’s death. There is always so much humbug about death and people say only nice things about the victims and give them only appreciation which might have been welcome when they were living. As a matter of fact, the Cathedral service was rather moving and made me realise that he had done more good with his life than most of us. Cathedral was full, 22 relations and tribute from the Dean about his austere personality. There was also beautiful music. I felt like a ghost, too blind to recognise faces and too deaf to hear words. There was a strange scene, comic I thought, when P.M.’s sister May, guarded by the Mother Superior of the Epiphany, held court from the bath chair, to all the relations, one by one. She was enjoying her self enormously. “Yes, he was the loveliest man I ever knew, but what could you expect with that money and that spoiling?”’
And from a nephew,
‘My memory is very selective and is made up of snapshots but with often gaps in between. My brother’s aged about 13 and 11, set off from Salisbury on bikes to ride to Trelowarren, Mum and I left a few days later in the Ford Escort van to meet them at Aunt Kay’s. I can’t remember putting up the tent. I remember Mum had a terrible night as Aunt Kay had given her silk sheets and she kept on sliding off the bed! ‘
Clara first visited Ireland in 1907 and stayed at the same friend’s house that her sister Harriet had been staying in for several years at Kilkenny. Harriet would catch the ‘Pig-Boat’ from Falmouth and was always careful not to buy a ticket which included meals. At Kilkenny they drove to another friend’s house at Malahide and would visit Dublin. They were at Dublin’s Abbey Theatre to watch The Playboy of the Western World when they saw a tall, dark figure with a flowing bow tie. It was W.B. Yeats.
She next visited Ireland during the summer of 1929, while she decided on the proposal received from Sir Courtenay and whom she married later that year. She referred often to ‘the troubles’ in that narrative. Clara travelled to Ireland again in 1935 with several travelling companions, all of whom were lifelong friends, including Betty Bolitho.
Betty Bolitho was a cousin from her mother’s side of the family (Williams.)
They visited and stayed in the beautiful Aran Islands the year following the filming of the Gainsborough picture called the Man of Aran
She wrote about it in her book On Timeless Shores, which you must read if you want to discover more about the local people who appeared in the film and who became friends with Clara. She made friends wherever she travelled.
Clara found Ireland to be magical and heard many tales of the supernatural with myths and legends seemingly being lived out in the villages and settlements she visited
On Aran she had a meeting with a woman, who told Clara of her difficult life. The woman asked Clara about hers and I feel that the words are worth transcribing here.
‘Then she questioned me about myself. What would I tell her? All the troubles of my broody, introspective nature through youth and middle age had paled into insignificance before the simplicity of this island woman. I had just shared a meal with her and Dara, potatoes, eaten with our fingers, straight from the cooking pot. I would not tell her that at home we were never hungry, that servants waited on us at our meals, that we never cooked our own food nor washed our own clothes. It was only with birth and death and loneliness and hunger that she was concerned; she would not understand the things that made up our everyday life in England. So I told her, at full length, how my younger brother went down fighting in HMS Monmouth, together with her sister ship, and whether they were drowned or burned alive we shall never know: we only know that of all those fifteen hundred souls not a single one was saved. Then I told her how he was the best of the family and how that same thing had happened to all our friends and relations; the one who was killed in the war would always be the best one in the family.’
The medals are now in the possession of his great-great nephews who wear them proudly on Anzac Day.
‘On the day of the first man landing on the moon in 1969, My wife and I were staying with Kay at Trelowarren and we wanted to watch it on TV. Kay didn’t have a TV (…” not much use to a blind person!”), but her retired gardener who lived in a comfortable cottage by Trelowarren’s main entrance, had his TV and he welcomed us in to watch it there. Kay wasn’t going to miss this chance and we installed her close to the old B&W TV. She was deeply impressed. When we returned home late that evening, we had a cup of tea together and she then bid us goodnight, saying she was going to do some writing. We could her tap-tapping on her old portable typewriter until quite late – she’ll have known her typewriter keys well enough to use it fast and accurately, despite being so blind that she needed a magnifying glass to proof-read what she had typed. In the morning, she gave me a letter (in one of her recycled, brown envelopes) for posting. I noticed it was addressed to the Editor of ‘The Lady’ and a week later they published a full page of her thoughts about the changes she’d seen in her life, from motor cars, to steam ships, then air travel and now a man on the moon!’
That gardener was Ernest Rowe who had been with the family man and boy since 1911.
‘I spent about a week with Great Aunt Kay (Clara) I think it must have been 1964 when visiting the UK with my mother and brother, I was left with poor Aunt Kay, she must have been about 78 then, a big ask of Kay by my mother! My Mum and brother then went on a trip. I would have been ten at the time and poor Kay did a great job of looking after me, I have very fond memories of Trelowarren and of Kay picking flowers and cape gooseberries to be sent to Covent Garden in London and me exploring the house & grounds which I thought were far more jungly than the Africa I came from. In my mind I mix my grandmother and Aunt Kay up, I think they both looked very similar. Oh! and sleeping in an enormous bedroom overlooking the house chapel. The old house creaked and acted like an old Cornish house should, but it must have accepted me as I wasn’t spooked at all.’
This chapel is now a luxury Christian retreat, assigned to them in 1973 when Lady Clara still lived at Trelowarren.
Trelowarren Chapel from Library 1951
Another great nephew.
‘My grandmother, Harriet Maclaren, looked very like Aunt Kay and I was brought up short when I first met Aunt Kay as she could have been a double. The description of shrewd, bird-like eyes comes to mind as echoed in your article. I do think she would have hated the word blog but would have embraced the communication technology of today with wonderment and delight.
Both Granny Maclaren (Our reference to Harriet) and Aunt Kay had a deep love of all things green and both were talented gardeners and landscapers with green fingers. Trelowarren and our garden here in Zambia testify to this long after their passing. I am surrounded by large stately Blue gums, Indigenous fig trees and a landscaped array of beds of colour. Aunt Kay never visited here but would have enjoyed it as she never tired of new ideas, places and thoughts. I made quite a few visits to Trelowarren and whenever I got there and later when my wife joined me in my visits to Cornwall, we would be put to work trimming Rhododendrons, Camellias and Azaleas that had grown out of bounds. Every cut we made with a bill-hook or saw was supervised by Aunt Kay with her walking stick. We would retire at midday leaving a burning bonfire and take her to her pub of choice for a ploughman’s lunch and wherever we went she seemed to be known and greeted with delighted smiles. Quite a few times the owners would not hear of her paying for a drink and meal. In the afternoon we would cram into my Mini Countryman and she would direct us to out of the way scenes and views we would never have otherwise found. It delighted both of us to be with her as her enthusiasm was infectious.
I never met Daphne du Maurier, but I do know Aunt Kay held her in very high esteem. She was great friends with another lady called Betty Bolitho, whose brother was a well-known ballet critic. We took her there to tea twice that I recall.
I found the gardens at Trelowarren uplifting, even though they were over-grown and neglected which caused Aunt Kay grief. The house was in a state and there was little love lost between the Vyvyan who inherited and Aunt Kay. Basically, he wanted her out so he could save what was left. I gathered from Aunt Kay that she had left him the Estate some years earlier to get around an Inheritance Tax law. Provided she lived for five years after bequeathing it he would not be liable to this tax. All well and good but Aunt Kay lived much longer than expected! I met the relevant Vyvyan cousin once and remember little of him except a sense of aloofness and definite ill-feeling between them both.
Her last few years were lonely I think. She phoned a few times and I phoned her occasionally. Two of her phone calls were memorable. One was when man first landed on the moon and she was so excited by that accomplishment and the fact that she had lived long enough to experience that! She had been determined to live for that occasion and glued herself to the wireless for all the reports! Another call was to instruct me to listen to the BBC at a set time, as she had taught “that whipper-snapper of a reporter a lesson he needed to remember”! The man had made the grave mistake of asking, in opening, how old Aunt Kay was! This was very impolite in her view of the world! Gentlemen did not ask ladies their age. She noted that he only had a few questions listed so answered each one with a “yes” or “no” and the man was soon floundering with time to spare! She used that time to explain to him why she thought he was so bad mannered. Her fire in her well-lived in sitting room was always weak and the room was cold. The stairs up to her bedroom were very steep and small. After her death I did hear that the people attending had a real problem getting her down the steps. She would have laughed! She always wore a black beret and mittens that needed repairs and always spurned the new mittens we tried giving her! She always pressed apples on us and was very proud of their keeping ability, and even though small and wrinkled by the end of winter they were tasty.’
Betty Bolitho had never married and lived most of the time on Cornwall’s Hayle Estuary. She was part of the Bolitho banking family, who were I think taken over by Lloyd’s Bank.
Clara was an expert (she would not admit that she was) on plants and birds. Her friend Gwen Dorrien Smith, an excellent artist and companion on several of her world adventures and who had predeceased her, was also an expert on birds. When they travelled through Canada to Alaska (An Arctic Adventure) and on her trips around the Scilly Isles (The Scilly Isles), staying at Gwen and her parent’s home, Clara would hungrily collect the names and pictures of the local bird and plant life. Gwen would paint the same and her pictures still fetch a decent price if they come up for auction – a very rare occurrence. Clara valued her friends but valued her solitude more and often said that the true meaning of life could be found in those moments of oneness with the natural world. I hope that in her latter years, with failing eyesight and inability to travel, she was able to retreat further into her own mind and find peace and contentment there.
A story of Clara’s passing.
‘Years after she died, we met the kind person who sat with her after her fateful fall out of bed, breaking her hip. She apparently refused to be moved out of her bedroom for hospital treatment and died peacefully in the presence of this kind person, John Simpson, then a R.N. Padre from Culdrose. He subsequently left the Navy and became the Vicar at Curry Rivel in Somerset, my wife’s home village, where we met. He became a family friend and related to me how proud he had been to conduct Kay’s funeral, something he did for both of my wife’s parents. Sadly, my wife and I were working in a remote corner of the Congo when Kay died and it was weeks after her death that we eventually heard that she had died. It was the passing of one of life’s leading characters and we were immensely heartened that we had had the privilege to have known and loved her.’
Clara wrote the following in closing her book Journey Up The Years.
‘To return, however, to the question of my own old age.
All through life I have longed for adventures, sought them and pursued them to the end. Now I am moving upward to the last adventure.
Fruit hangs upon the tree and ripens slowly in the open or it may hang against a wall and ripen quickly with comforting support and warmth, but in any case autumn’s mellow sunshine may be a token that life can sometimes hold a blessing to the end. As for the last adventure, perhaps it may prove to be the greatest one of all.
I watch the falling leaves of autumn and reflect that each one of us will be absorbed back into the earth; it is our common destiny that our bodies help to create new life. And my spirit? Perhaps it will linger on in the memory of those whom I have loved.’
In her book Coloured Pebbles, Clara talked about her own aunts and her reaction and relationship to them. She then compared her new role as an aunt and how she hoped her own nephews and nieces felt about her.
‘Nowadays as an aunt, I ride somewhat uneasily in the saddle and find that having aunts and being an aunt are widely different experiences. There is no question now of expecting subservience from the younger generation. In fact, the old must curry favour with the young to gain mere toleration.
Yet strangely enough, just as I credited my own aunts with a fixed personality, so my nephews and nieces relegate me, with certain parts of my life, to a permanent niche, after investing me with an unchanging and unchangeable personality. When they introduce me to their friends, they make a point of mentioning, as if to justify their aged aunt’s existence, journeys I have made and books I have written. Then the journeys and the books are put back into their niche and I am left to feel that my contemporary existence is that of a shadow. From my watchtower in old age, I look out on memories of their birth, infancy, adolescence and maturity, but they know nothing about my formative years, my dearest associations, my unfulfilled daydreams, that are still directive.’
I hope I have put that to rights – a little.
I could not have written this article without the unselfish and very kind assistance of her surviving great nephews. All have been wonderful in sharing their memories with me and subsequently with you – the reader.
I thought that I would write a short biography about Walter Prideaux who descended through the line of John and Sybell of Luson and the heir Hugh. It is because of an 1835 Mahogany Longcase Clock I own. I descend from Hugh’s brother John. Walter’s line moved through the South Hams to Kingsbridge and eventually London and Sussex.
Walter Prideaux was born 15 April 1806, at Bearscombe near Kingsbridge, the eldest of 11 children. His parents were Walter and Sarah Ball Hingston and his grandparents were the Quaker Kingsbridge solicitor George Prideaux and his wife Anna Debell Cookworthy, daughter of Philip Cookworthy. George and Anna had 10 children, Walter was the 4th child. George Prideaux and his wife Anna lived in a large property at Bearscombe.
Walter, (his father) married Sarah Ball Hingston in 1805. Sarah was the daughter of Joseph Hingston, a partner in The Devon and Cornwall Bank, along with Walter’s cousins, Walter Were Prideaux and his son, Walter Prideaux and John Square.
Abraham Hawkins (The Kingsbridge historian), wrote in 1819;
A Bank was established at Kingsbridge in the month of February 1806, by Messrs. Walter Prideaux, John Square, Joseph Hingston, and Walter Prideaux junior. It was first opened in a house on the West side of Fore street nearly opposite the late Buttermarket, and on the North side of Millman’s Lane which communicates with the West backlet. An excellent stone mansion however, with an appropriate room for this concern, having been erected by the junior partner on the East side of Fore Street Hill, facing the houses a little above the Quakers’ meeting, the business was removed thither in 1808; and, the second partner being dead, but replaced by his son of the same Christian name, and the third removed to Plymouth, where he carries on a similar establishment, the notes of the present firm bear the designation of “Prideaux, Square, and Prideaux,” whose Loudon correspondents are messieurs Masterman, Peters, Mildred, & Co. No, 2. White-Hart Court, Gracechurch Street”.
Therefore, there were two separate banks in existence, at Kingsbridge (Prideaux, Square, and Prideaux) and at Plymouth (Hingston & Prideaux).
On 31 October 1813 the banking partnership known as Prideaux, Square, Hingston and Prideaux of Kingsbridge in Devon was dissolved by mutual consent to allow for the retirement of Joseph Hingston. Joseph went to Plymouth to open another bank and the original partnership was renamed Prideaux, Square and Prideaux.
Joseph Hingston formed a partnership in the Plymouth bank with his son in law, Walter Hingston Prideaux, both men staunch Quakers associated with the Plymouth Brethren. Walter and Sarah had moved from Kingsbridge to Plymouth in 1812, following the sale of Bearscombe. The bank was known as the Hingston & Prideaux Bank.
Walter Hingston Prideaux, the eldest son of Walter and Sarah was born on the 15th April 1806 and was the first of 12 children. Walter became a lawyer as did several of his brothers, others became eminent surgeons and the girls all married well, except for Lucy who remained at home. Walter’s younger brother Joseph Hingston drowned at Plymouth on the 24th June 1840. One sister, Sarah Anna married her cousin Samuel Prideaux Tregelles, a well-known scholar and writer It was he who wrote the foreword to the book Poems. His brother Frederick wrote Prideauxs Precedents which is still in use today.
Walter Hingston’s father died on 24th June 1832 and his mother on 20th December 1866.
Walter Hingston moved to London to continue his studies and eventually become Solicitor and Clerk to the Goldsmiths Company (a role his second son Walter Sherburne also held) and he and his family lived at Warhurst in Sussex. Following are some of the many links which reference Walter Sr and Walter Jr in their dealings with the Goldsmith companies.
Walter was a partner in a firm of solicitors with his brother and his son and the firm is still in existence as Kennedy, Ponsonby and Prideaux, initially of 52 Bishopsgate and latterly at 5 Lincolns Fields.
Walter published a book called Poems of Chivalry, Faery and the Olden Time in 1840. Towards the end of his life he also published a small book called Poems in 1892 and with a foreword by Samuel Tregelles Prideaux, who was married to Walter’s sister Sarah Anna. This book has the following statement on Page 5,
‘Only 20 numbered Copies printed for Private Circulation.’
I own Copy No.1.
Walter Prideaux was very much involved in the notorious balloon journey undertaken by Charles Green, Thomas Monck Mason and Robert Hollond. Charles Green was an accomplished balloonist and he famously experimented using coal gas instead of hydrogen. These three travelled a record distance of 500 miles in 18 hours. Walter Prideaux was included in a painting by the artist, John Hollins called, ‘A Consultation prior to the Aerial Voyage to Weilburgh, 1836‘which recorded the event. This painting is available in the National Portrait Gallery.
Walter led an adventurous life and I decided to learn about him after I came into possession of a Mahogany Longcase clock which had been made for him to celebrate the year 1835. It seems to have been commissioned by him or for him to celebrate and acknowledge his rise in the world. Unmarried, Walter displayed the clock either in his London office or his rooms. He was a sort after lawyer, a Solicitor and Clerk to the Goldsmiths Company and working closely with Charles Green et al on their balloon project. 1835 marked the grand total of 200 balloon ascents for the men to date.
The 37-year-old Walter married 19-year-old Elizabeth Williams of Catsfield Sussex on the 14th September 1843 and they had five children. Elizabeth was the daughter of General Sherburne H Williams of Sussex.
His boys were educated at Eton and became successful bankers and lawyers. Two of the girls remained single and the third married a Captain, moved to India where she promptly died. One boy remained unmarried and the last boy Walter Sherburne Prideaux married Catherine Povah and they had five children including Sherburne Povah Tregelles Prideaux who became a scholar and religious writer and analyst.
My clock came from this Sherburne branch of his family, his descendants selling it at one point. It still works very well.
Walter Hingston Prideaux died in 1889 following a heart attack.
It only took opening and beginning to read the first chapter of The Old Place by C C Vyvyan before I was hooked. I have read everything of hers that I can get my hands on – several times and never tire of her words.
Clara Vyvyan can take the reader into her circle and experience her life alongside her. One feels as though one knows her friends and associates and could enter into a conversation with them quite comfortably upon first meeting.
She was born into a family with great social standing and should, by rights have entered into an early marriage and produced children and good works. But she didn’t.
I have never seen her name and character bandied about as an example of female empowerment and it may be that Clara, like many similar women just got on with her adventures and challenges and travels.
She was a social worker in the East End of London, a writer, a market gardener and fearless explorer.
I have seen no detailed biography of Clara. A blog by a woman who chooses to embrace spinsterhood (nothing wrong with that) informs us of some of the travels of C C Rogers and how she never married. I took away from that article that she was possibly a lesbian. She was not and neither was Daphne du Maurier, Clara’s friend and often travelling companion, although popular reports still infer this.
Clara Coltman Rogers was born in 1885 at the family’s cattle ranch in Stanage, Queensland. Clara, her elder brother Michael and elder sister Harriet were also born there. The ranch is on a peninsula, which at the time was extremely remote, ranchers there going months without seeing another human. The nearest town was 120 miles away and the nearest ranch 100 miles away. They lived by the sea, overlooking the Great Barrier Reef. This ranch provided the family with their principal source of income and that was substantial.
Her mother Charlotte Williams was a member of the Williams family of Caerhays, Burncoose and Scorrier of Cornwall. Her father, John Michael Williams, had been High Sheriff of Cornwall. The family made a fortune from mining and were also famous for their gardens and horticultural expertise. Charlotte was very aware of and proud of her social roots. It was to Gwennap and in 1916 to Burncoose that the Rogers family moved after leaving the Australian ranch in the hands of managers and later to their eldest son, Michael. The family regularly travelled back to Queensland and Michael often came back to England.
Her father, Edward Powys Rogers was a member of the Coltman Rogers family of Stanage Park in Powys. Clara spent a great deal of her time with her relatives. She holidayed during several summers in the 1920’s exploring Wales, particularly from Stanage Park to Snowdon in a horse drawn caravan with her Coltman Rogers cousins. She described one night out on the lakeside at Bala, when they awoke, surrounded by cattle.
A great aunt and godmother, Mrs Pocklington Coltman owned Hagnaby Priory in Lincolnshire and Clara and her siblings went there as often as they could and loved every minute. Clara need only use the proverb, ‘the peace of Hagnaby’ and her family understood immediately. This was the phrase she used to let her brother Michael know exactly what Trelowarren meant to her.
Two further children, Harry Powys and Elizabeth Naomi arrived on the family’s return to Gwennap in 1887. Naomi was a weak child who suffered from debilitating asthma and was babied by the family. She was not taken on the family travels around Europe or on the six month stays at the ranch in Queensland.
The girls had governesses until they were sixteen and then Clara chose a school in London. She loved learning and eventually studied for a Science Degree at the Women’s University Settlement in London and trained to be a social worker. She had a job working amongst the very poor and used her salary to help pay for her education and accommodation. Clara was enjoying her life of freedom and independence.
Then the news came that her sister Harriet was to marry James Malcolm MacLaren, a geologist. Charlotte didn’t really approve, thinking he was not the ‘right sort,’ but their marriage was happy and produced five children and seven grandchildren. This meant that Clara must return home to Gwennap as Naomi was under 20 and considered too young to be the ‘Home Daughter’. Clara fought this and managed to remain fairly independent in London until 1914.
Then horror struck.
Naomi had been getting much better and was able to travel to Brittany with trusted friends who had stayed with her in the past on several of her ‘cures’ in Switzerland. They all returned happily to their Surrey home, where Naomi caught a cold, developed pneumonia, heart trouble and asthma. She was dead soon after on 8th May 1914 and was brought back to Gwennap by Clara and Harry. Her parents had managed to race to Surrey following an urgent message and Naomi died in their arms, but they returned alone to prepare for the funeral.
Clara left her work and studies in London following the funeral. The family then went on a European tour during which war broke out and they struggled to make it back to England safely. Harry, now a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy, was killed in action on November 1st, 1914 at the battle of Coronel off the coast of Chile when his ship HMS Monmouth was sunk. Harry was 27 years old. Their parents had a memorial stone erected in the church to Harry and Naomi. Two children dead in under six months.
Clara travelled to Hagnaby Priory to find some peace.
There she pulled herself together and began war nursing as many women did at that time. She went to Rouen and here was introduced to the 56-year-old, (born 5th June 1858) Sir Courtenay Bourchier Vyvyan, 10th Baronet, whose stately home was Trelowarren, Cornwall where he lived with his wife. His son and heir Vyell, had died in 1898 and the property would eventually go to cousins. Clara and Sir Courtenay got on very well and remained friends.
After the end of the war, Clara began her adventures in earnest. She returned to be at home during her father’s final illness when he died following an operation on his cancer of the oesophagus. Clara had not approved of the operation, feeling that although his life was extended by a few weeks, it was a terrible life. The family had moved into Burncoose in 1916 and this was where Edward spent his final years before joining his daughter and the memorial stone to his drowned son in Gwennap Church.
Clara soon left home again and with her friend Gwen Dorrien Smith successfully travelled across Canada and back at great cost and with great bravery, details of which she wrote about in An Arctic Adventure later in her life.
She was now getting some articles published and making a name for herself with her writing.
On the 3rd January 1928, the wife of Sir Courtenay died, and the couple began to see a lot more of each other. Clara stopped travelling and bought a car so that she could visit him at Trelowarren often. They married on the 21st November 1929 despite dire warnings from all members of the families that this was bad match, due to the age difference.
They however, remained happily married and content until his death on 15th November 1941, prior to which Sir Courtenay had signed Trelowarren over o Clara. His ashes were scattered at his request over the bluebells in the beech grove. Clara was adamant that the soldiers who stayed there during the war years and did so much damage to the house and grounds should leave this sacred spot alone.
Her friend Daphne du Maurier, wrote the foreword in Clara’s book, Letters from a Cornish Garden. It was in 1932, just before Daphne’s marriage when Daphne and Foy Quiller Couch, daugher of Arthur Quiller Couch, rode to the Lizard where they explored before spending time with the Vyvyans in their home. Daphne loved Trelowarren and never forgot her first journey there.
‘Foy’s friend Clara, and her husband Sir Courtenay, were standing waiting on the steps to greet us. My diary says nothing of their appearance, but memory tells me that he was smiling, silver-haired, leaning on two sticks and her eyes were penetrating, curious and interested, like those of a very perceptive bird. All that my diary says is this: “This evening we came to Trelowarren, the most beautiful place imaginable. I just can’t believe it is true. The strength, the peace, the kindliness of these people and this place.”’
Daphne talked of the library full of books and a housemaid and the striking of the stable clock. Clara cut flowers from the Lady’s garden as Sir Courtenay leaned on a stick as a robin flew on to his hand. Daphne felt moved by the place and thought that this place was the last of old England as she would ever know it.
She wrote in her diary,
‘I simply hated leaving Trelowarren. Few places have made such a profound impression on me.’
Daphne set her book Frenchmans Creek at Trelowarren and the surrounding lands.
Incidentally, Daphne du Maurier used the house and setting of Trelowarren in her novel Frenchman’s Creek. She also used the gardens in Rebecca.
Friends and Contemporaries by A L Rowse
(on Frenchman’s Creek) The book is very atmospherical, the inspiration, I noted, nostalgia. The action concentrates on the Helford Rover, below her friend Clara Vyvyan’s 17th century Trelowarren. (The colonnade of trees in Rebecca, by the way, is the avenue of over-arching ilexes there, like a cathedral aisle)
She also wrote to Oriel Malet in 1953 that Sir Courtenay had said once, “If the line isn’t drawn somewhere, there would be no line at all!”
Lady Clara was used as a hopefully persuasive tool against Daphne after she had written I’ll never be young again by Arthur Quiller Couch.
Friends and Contemporaries by A L Rowse
He carpeted her at The Haven: ‘My dear Daphne, people don’t say such things,’ the old innocent reproved her. The young lady, who knew, replied, ‘But, Sir Arthur, they do.’ The dear old boy couldn’t face the thought, especially with his old fashioned gallantry about women, and wondered whether this made suitable company for daughter Foy and her friend Lady Vyvyan of Trelowarren.
Trelowarren was requisitioned by the Army during World War 2 and Clara did her ‘war work’ in Bristol. She returned to Cornwall to supervise Trelowarren at various times, although a bailiff and her Head Gardener George Bryant were overseeing the property. She had one meeting with the Army where she let them know in a dignified way, the utter carnage they were doing to the property. She wrote about it movingly in ‘Requisition’ which featured in the periodical My Garden and her book The Old Place.
It was Theo Stephens and Malcolm Saville, editors of My Garden who printed many articles of Clara’s and along with other publications such as the Manchester Guardian and the Western Independent.
Clara was summoned at the West Kerrier Petty Sessions on the 26th February 1940 for driving a motor car without a licence.
Following the war, Lady Clara needed money to maintain and run Trelowarren. Her inheritance was subsidised by her writing and the income they made from running a market garden, producing, fruit, vegetables and flowers. She writes about these times in Letters from a Cornish Garden and The Old Place, much better than I can paraphrase. I was particularly moved by the death of her great friend and employee George Bryant and the tribute to him in the West Briton, a paper he used to read cover to cover.
She also returned to see her mother during her final days until her death on 17th April 1944 and see her buried at Gwennap alongside the rest of the family.
Clara still adventured around the world often alone and sometimes accompanied by friends such as Daphne du Maurier and Foy Quiller Couch. She would trudge around the lanes of Cornwall even in great age. Her brother Michael would come and visit when he was able.
Oriel Malet, another friend of Daphne du Maurier remembers one stormy afternoon when Clara hammered at the window of the Long Room at Menabilly. Clara was clad all in black oilskins and soaking wet. Staying a few days at The Haven with Foy she had decided to tramp over to visit her old friend at Menabilly and go through maps and atlases to discuss her latest adventure.
Clara wrote over 20 books and many articles. Her books are still available.
Clara’s latter years were sad. She went blind and had made over Trelowarren to the next heir, a distant cousin of her late husband’s. She lived in a wing there and eventually had to confine herself to one room. She had few visitors, although her old friend Foy visited her very often. Then Foy became older and sicker and was unable to visit. Foy went into a home in 1982 and then to Bodmin Asylum where she died in March 1986 of senile dementia.
Daphne du Maurier died at home at Kilmarth of old age on the 19th April 1989 and her ashes were scattered on her favourite beach.
Another author friend of hers A L Rowse, lasted until 1997.
Lady Clara Vyvyan of Trelowarren died in her room on March 1st, 1976 aged 90, having lived a full life. Her funeral service was held in Trelowarren Chapel at 2.30pm on March 4th and she was cremated, and her ashes scattered at Trelowarren.
I found a cut out copy of her obituary from The Times hidden in a second-hand book I bought a few years ago and then another cut out copy of a death entry of a local Western paper in another second-hand book. That was when I decided to write this article. I would have submitted it to my friend Dr James Whetter for An Baner Kernewek, but of course he has now left us.
One could become nostalgic if one thought about it all too much.
I learned recently of the death of my friend Dr. James Whetter following a short illness.
A clever man, James wrote many books and articles and was the Editor of An Baner Kernewek where several of my own articles have been printed over the years, including the last edition.
His website The Roseland Institutelists his works and achievements. It is worth obtaining his books as I feel he has been a vastly underestimated author and collector of our precious Cornish history. He has helped me a good deal over the years with my research. He was a great friend of his neighbour A L Rowse and wrote a memoir about their friendship.
Reproduced by kind permission of Ute Sen
He was also a very nice man who will be missed by his family and friends.
The Travels of John Prideaux. Southampton to New York to Portland.
We were up at 5.30 am and had breakfast seven o’clock. At 7.30 we took carriage for Waterloo Station (a lovely summer morning) and arrived 8 am. 8.30 we left by train and arrived at Southampton 10.30. We went on board Steam Ship St Pauls and left for New York at 12 o’clock noon. We did some changing of our money on the Dock before we left. We had dinner 2 pm after which Mamma and I went to our berths and had a nap. The country between London and Southampton is a lovely flat open farming district. From Southampton Dock, we sailed straight for Cherbourg, the chief seaport of France and took on passengers. From there the St Paul sailed down the English Channel and passed around Lands End point around midnight.
Sunday July 8th
Up 7 am breakfasted 8.30. The weather beautiful and ocean smooth as a mill pond until 4.30 pm when the white caps came in view. After dinner Arthur was called to receive a can of six pastries and 26 cookies.
At 10.30 am. The Episcopal Service was held in the Cabin Saloon. Mamma, Arthur and I attended, the congregation was good. In the afternoon, I read the first seven chapters of first Corinthians. (The can of pastries and cookies were sent to Arthur from Cousin John Prideaux daughters at Troon.) A man played some hymn tunes on his Cornucopia accompanied by piano. Arthur had a sleep and Mamma had a nice rest lying down. In the evening, the weather began to be a little rough and us three retired feeling dick and continued so until Tuesday night. Arthur and I were the worst. Mamma never missed a meal.
Wednesday July 11th
Up 7.30. I had the first breakfast since Sunday and felt better. Last night the Fog Whistle was blowing at intervals and continued till 10 am. Then the sun shone out and the day was lovely and the sea smooth. At 10 pm we had a cup of gruel with many others and retired.
Up at 6 am took Mamma for a walk on deck. Breakfasted 8.30. A lovely clear and bright morning, every lady seems to be bright and happy. In the afternoon, the ocean was smooth like glass in appearance and the sun set was magnificent to behold.
At 9 pm we had our cup of gruel and retired to our berths or staterooms.
Up at 7 am. Breakfasted at 8 o’clock A wet rainy morning but cleared away 9.30. Three of us sick all day.
Up 6.30 a lovely morning breakfasted as usual. Took on Pilot 9 am and landed in New York at 12 o’clock noon. Passed through the Customs House one o’clock. We found a Ticket Agent on Dock who took us to Hotel of whom we got our tickets for Portland Oregon. On Ontario Western Railway.
We left International Hotel 5 pm and started to cross over to New Jersey 5.20 to take train for Chicago and got seated in our own car 6 pm and started on our way 6.15. The weather quite hot and sulphery. We stopped at Congors 7 pm.
We stopped at Oswego 3.40 am. Next, we stopped at Buffalo 8.15 am and then crossed the Niagara River Suspension Railroad Bridge into Canada. Weather still hot and close. At 12 o’clock we stopped at St Thomas for lunch then started again for Detroit Michigan and left there 3.30 pm. Arrived at Chicago 10 pm and left 10.30 pm.
We crossed the Mississippi River at 3 am Monday morning and stopped at Monticello 6 am and we had a good thunder shower. Arrived at Omaha 4 pm and crossed the Mississippi River after a stop of 35 minutes going towards Pendleton Oregon. The forenoon was showery but the afternoon was more pleasant and the sunset was lovely to behold. 7.30 pm we stopped at Columbus Neb. For five minutes.
The roughest piece of railroad we passed over was from Chicago Milwaukie and St Pauls.
We were up at six and stopped at Pocatello from 6 am to 6.30 for breakfast quite a rush. We ate breakfast in our car and then took seat in Chair car.
(I omitted July 17th) (JPx wrote)
We slept very well in our sleeper, had mush and cream for breakfast at 9.30. We stopped at Cheyenne and left 10.15. At one pm we stopped at Armies for five minutes. At one o’clock am (this morning) Arthur left us at Julesburg for Denver Colorado to spend a day. And then to Ogden and Salt Lake City for a day or two to see friends and then to meet us at Pendleton.
We now return to where I stopped on the 18th. It was a beautiful sun shine morning and we stopped at Shandon for five minutes 10.15 reached Kings Hill 11.15 and made a short stop at Mountain Home at 12.50 pm.
At two o’clock and 15 minutes we stopped at Nampa and changed some cars for Bois City. Arrived at Huntington 4.45 pm and left for Pendleton 5.15. Arrived at Pendleton 10.45 pm and in 15 minutes we were at the home of our daughter Mrs A J Owen and after some refreshments etc we retired at midnight glad to rest in a steady bed.
We enjoyed the visit with our daughter Mrs A J Owen and husband and their son Walter until Monday July 23rd.
On Sunday 22nd
We attended the Church Services and S. School with our daughter “who was organist” and her husband who was choir leader. The Minister Rev John Wren preached in the morning from the words,
He shall give his Angels charge over thee to keep thee in all thy way.
The evening text was,
Chase you this day whom you will serve.
Very excellent discourse.
So ended July 22nd.
Arthur joined us at Pendleton. Saturday night 10.40 after a nice stop over at Salt Lake City.
Monday July 23rd
10 am we left Pendleton for Portland and arrived 5.45 pm. George met us at the Depot while Lillie and dau. had a nice roast of veal ready at their home for us when we came which we greatly enjoyed. After resting and talking of our journey we retired for the night.
Up at 7. Breakfast at 9, at 10.30 am we left for City Road Wesley Chapel.
We rode from Pancreas Church to opposite Wesley Chapel Gate. For half an hour, we walked about the grave yard visiting the tombs of prominent men and ministers. We took a good view of Wesley’s Tomb, a fine piece of granite work which enclosed several of the Wesleys and Dr. Adam Clarks by its side. We were then given a seat of our choice in the Gallery of the large Chapel. Service began a 11 am by singing the hymn, ‘Jesus we look to thee,’ and to tune, Dennis SM all sung heartily and then we went through most of the Episcopal Service except the Litany. This was sung a hymn to tune Platts Hymn. After which the chair sung the Te Deum Laudamus well and strong about 20 voices. The Gallery is horseshoe shape. The organ was divided in two parts one in each end of the Gallery. The organist sat and played from down in front of the Minister with the choir on either side. The Old Wesley Pulpit still in use.
The Rev R S Joice a delegate to the General Conference held at Chicago in May and from Australia preached a good sermon from John 15 – 8 verse. ‘Herein is my Father glorified that you bear much fruit.’
After the Service we made our acquaintance with the Minister and met a prominent Steward who led in the Service in reading the prayers. We got good friends very soon and he said that his niece was soon to be married to a Prideaux from Camborne. After signing our names in the visitor’s book in the vestry and looking at many things we reached Mrs Dynes at 1.30 pm had dinner at once and rested till 5 pm. We then had tea and at 5.45 left for New North Road Wesleyan Church. Arrived there when the first hymn was being sung. The Service began at 6.30. We heard this same Mr Joice preach that we heard in the morning at City Road. His text was Psalm 119 and 164 verses, ‘Great Peace have they that keep thy Law.’
The Church is about the size of City Road only more modern. The Gallery horseshoe shape and a recess for the organ in the Gallery with Choir chairs in front. The Pulpit is of platform patterns the back of which joins the chair left in front of the organ. The Sermon was good, the congregation fine and the choir excellent.
After the service we again spoke to the Minister Mr Joice and to the Pastor of the Church who greeted us heartily. (Rev Mr Wood.) who said he had been Minister there for the past nine years. We then walked to the Angle (1/2 mile) and took Bus. Arrived at Mrs Dynes 9 pm and had supper. Mamma soon retired while I sat up to write my diary. I retired 11 pm.
Monday July 2nd
We got up at 7 o’clock. Just then Arthur returned from his trip to Paris Exhibition and went to his room and slept till 10 am. (We had breakfast 9 am.) When we went to his room and woke him and had Paris news for half an hour. Then he had his breakfast.
At 11.15 three of us left for Madame Tussauds and entered at 12 noon. It was grand to behold we stayed till 2.45 pm when we left and entered Regent Park and went straight to the Zoological Gardens and saw all kinds of animals. Birds and fishes. The ostrich and children riding on elephant’s back. At 4pm we saw the wild animals fed in their cages. We left for Mrs Dynes 5.55 after seeing many wonderful sights, too many to remember and arrived there 6.35. We had dinner at 7 pm and returned to our rooms, all well tired out. It was a wet and disagreeable day.
Up at 8. Breakfast at 9. Wrote to John H Pearce. At 10 am we three left for the British Museum. Stayed till 1.05 pm and took Bus to Charing Cross and walked from there to The Strand where we had lunch. At 2 pm we took train for Greenwich. We crossed the River Thames and saw the Tower Bridge and a glimpse of a part of the City of London from the elevated Railway. We saw a train come out of a tunnel under the River Thames.
At 2.45 we arrived at Mrs Chapman’s at Greenwich. A cup of tea was quickly passed to us.
At 3.15 under the guidance of Mrs Chapman’s two daughters we visited the Art Gallery and the Model Gallery where saw all kinds of ship models from the time of Henry the Eighth down to the present. Then we visited the Museum of the Naval College. From there we took Bus at Nelson St. and rode to Blackwell St. from which we entered the Thames tunnel and continuing on through till we came out at the Town of Poplar and then transferred to another Bus and rode back to the place of beginning. We entered the tunnel 4.30 pm and it took us fifteen minutes to ride through with the horses on a boat. As we left the Bus at 5 o’clock we visited the St. Alfred Church nearby for about 20 minutes in which were the Royal Pews and an old time Pipe Organ and the Memorial window of General Woolf of the English Army. We were also in the Royal Pews. We entered the Royal Park 5.35 and came out at the East Gate 6.35 after an hours pleasant and profitable stay. Right outside of the East Gate is Blackheath. The village was in plain view with its many buildings and tall Church spires. From here we turned toward Mrs Chapman’s and arrived 7.10 pm. At 8 o’clock we entered the Dining Room and for dinner we had cold roast beef, custard pudding, lettuce and watercress also strawberries and cream. When we returned to the Parlour one Miss Chapman played the piano and the other Miss Chapman played the violin to the delight of Mrs Chapman her eldest daughter (married) Mrs Prideaux, Arthur and myself. The two Miss Chapmans accompanied us all afternoon and it was because of their kindness that we enjoyed ourselves and saw so much.
We saw in the Royal Park an old oak tree hollowed out with age in which Queen Elizabeth sat and the grand old twenty-four-hour clock which regulated the time of the world. We were entertained royally by Mrs Chapman and daughters at Greenwich.
We got our tickets for Charing Cross Station in time for 9.12 pm train but had not time to get on so took 9.42 train and arrived there at 10.12 pm. Then took Bus at St. Martins Church for Euston Road and got there 10.30. In ten minutes, we were at Mrs Dynes. On our way to the museum we passed the George Whitfield Memorial Church between twelve and one o’clock pm. It was built of red brick and has two low towers. We passed it again on our return from Greenwich.
There was a hard shower of rain while we were at the British Museum with thunder and lightning.
After writing up my diary I retired at 11.40. So ended July 3rd after committing myself to my Heavenly Father in prayer as usual.
We got up 7.30 am (a lovely morning), breakfasted at 9 am at 9.45 we three left Mrs Dynes for the Crystal Palace. We travelled by Bus and Street Car and reached the Snow Hill Station in time for the 10.40 train and reached the Crystal Palace 11.30 am.
After visiting several stores or stalls and buying some articles we had our lunch. At 2 pm The Great Organ was played by Mr Walter H Hedgecock when we listened to some numbers. At 3.15 Arthur and I rode to the top of the North Tower of the Crystal by an elevator while Mamma waited below, where we had a view of the City of London from a great height of 280 feet. 4.23 We took train for Snow Hill Station and arrived at 5.pm. At 5.15 we visited the YMCA for a short time. At 6 o’clock we took underground railroad at Aldergate Street Station for Gower Street Station and got to Mrs Dines 6.30. Got ready for dinner at 7 pm after which we closed up for the day very tired and retired at 9. But Arthur went again to the YMCA. We saw the American Flag flying.
Up at 7 am and breakfast at 8 am. At 8.45 Arthur, Mamma and I started for St Pauls Cathedral and entered 9.45. At ten o’clock the regular Divine Service began by the big Pipe Organ playing a short Voluntary and many boys and men came walking into their seats each having on a white surplus while all in the building stood up and the Minister began reading with an intoned voice. Sir George Martin was Organist. The big Pipe Organ was divided into three parts and connected by electric wire, the larger part being over the Minister’s head and the choir sung well throughout the service. The prayers and service was mainly in behalf of the War in Africa which was pending.
The scenery of the Cathedral was wonderfully grand with its massive pillars and carved work. We stopped through the Service then Arthur went inside to a lecture for an hour while Mamma and I went to D Nicholson’s Store and other places and came back and met Arthur at the Cathedral 11.45 am.
At twelve o’clock we all went and had our lunch at Cheapside after which Mrs Prideaux and I walked to the Royal Exchange and to the Bank of England which is a heavy solid looking building and back while Arthur went to call on Sir George Williams, founder of the YMCA in London.
We agreed to meet Arthur 1.30 pm at St Pauls Cathedral but Arthur did not return till 2.40 because he accepted by Sir George Williams an invitation to dine with him and Lady Williams, also the Rev. Mr Joice a Minister from Australia.
At 2.45 we took Bus for the Tower of London and after viewing it for a short time Mamma and I took Bus for Charing Cross, walked three blocks to St Martins Church (Arthur stayed to go in the Tower.) which took 30 minutes from the Tower. From there we took Bus for Euston Road which took 15 minutes. We then walked a few blocks and took Bus for the Angle and then took another Bus for the Garden Square and got to Mrs Dynes at 6 pm. Had dinner 6.45 and rested for the day both well tired out. After dinner Arthur went to Piccadilly for a ride and to see the place by gaslight. We retired 9 pm.
We got up at 7.45 am and had breakfast 8.30. We left Mrs Dynes to visit and see the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey. The Abbey is a wonderful building. It fills a person with wonder awe and amusement while we look at the magnificent arches, carvings and the many marble slabs and massive pillars that carry the roof. In this building is the Chapels and Tombs of the Royal Family. And the Great Statesmen such as Gladstone, Peel, Disraeli and a host of others have their graves here which are designated by marble slabs on the floor and many against the walls.
Divine Service is held here every day between the hours of 10 and 11 am and many visitors attend.
The service at this time was short not over half an hour. Mamma and I interested ourselves about the Abbey. At one pm after lunch we made a visit to the Parliament House. We went into its large Hall but were told it was not visitor’s day. We were shown the Abraham Lincoln Tower right across the Thames River. We walked around the beautiful grounds and noticed The Big Clock in the Tower of the Parliament House strike Two. “Big Ben.”
At 2.30 we took Bus for Hyde Park and after viewing the Lake and its surrounds and seeing Prince Alberts Memorial Tower at a distance and many other things. Mrs Prideaux and I took Bus for Euston Road and reached our Boarding Place. 4.15 pm Arthur went and I enjoyed himself seeing other sights.
At 7 pm Mr John H Pearce made us a call after which I wrote three letters and Mamma two. Then we did some of our packing and retired.
We were up at 5.30 am and had breakfast seven o’clock. At 7.30 we took carriage for Waterloo Station (a lovely summer morning) and arrived 8 am. 8.30 we left by train and arrived at Southampton 10.30. We went on board Steam Ship St Pauls and left for New York at 12 o’clock noon. We did some changing of our money on the Dock before we left. We had dinner 2 pm after which Mamma and I went to our berths and had a nap. The country between London and Southampton is a lovely flat open farming district. From Southampton Dock, we sailed straight for Cherbourg, the chief seaport of France and took on passengers. From there the St Paul sailed down the English Channel and passed around Lands End point around midnight.
The Travels of John Prideaux. Cornwall during the Summer of 1900.
Arrived at Bristol 3.45 pm and left 4.10. The weather was good from Liverpool to Bristol and while in Liverpool. At 4pm we went through a long tunnel under the Severn River. At 6pm we arrived at Exeter and stopped at Elmfield Hotel.
7.40 am Mamma, Arthur and myself left in a carriage to Bideford and got there at 10.10 and visited the Old Church and churchyard of Mrs Prideaux’s childhood days and saw her father’s grave. Mrs P had some cut flowers at the Rector’s residence and then we went to see old Mr and Mrs Pike who knew both of Mrs P’s parents forty years before. Mr Pike showed us around and we left at 11.15 and arrived at Elmfield at 12.30 had dinner and left Exeter at 2.36 p.m. and arrived at Bodmin 5pm and at St Austell 5.30. We arrived at Scorrior Station 7.56 pm and Mrs N W Hensley’s, St Day at 8.30 pm. Met Mr and Mrs Hensley and family and after greetings awhile we had saffron cake for tea and retired at 10pm. Mrs Hensley was on the sick list.
Got up 6 am and had breakfast at 8.30 (Fresh Mackerel). I wrote two letters to my sisters at Pool and Camborne and took a walk to see the old established church and yard and the graves of Mrs Prideaux’s grandparents, uncles and aunt, with Mrs Prideaux and Arthur. Then we went to see St Day Methodist Church and attended the 7 o’clock Prayer Meeting in the evening.
Got up 7.30 and after breakfast took a walk and then read till noon and had roast beef for dinner. At 2.30 pm we all walked two miles to Redruth Market and enjoyed the scenery on the road. At 6 pm we all went to an eating house had tea cake and saffron buns, tea and walked back to St Day. Though tired we greatly enjoyed the day.
At 9.30 am We left Mr and Mrs Hensley’s, St Day in a carriage and arrived at my sisters (Mrs Pearce) near Tuckingmill at 10.30 am. Met sister at the door and had a cordial welcome. Arthur and I took a walk to see some of the old sights and Tuckingmill Chapel (Church) and then back to dinner had beef steak and potatoes etc.
At six o’clock pm. After tea, we went to Camborne (one mile) with my sister Pearce to see my sister Ann H Polmear. We returned at 10pm and retired.
Sunday May 20th
We went to Tuckingmill Church both morning and evening. Arthur and I visited Tuckingmill S. School at 2pm, about 400 scholars present. We visited my cousin Mary A Harris after this evening service for half an hour at her beautiful home. She was so pleased to see us and we were to spend a day later on which we did.
Got up at 8 o’clock had breakfast and wrote a note to George. After dinner Arthur and I walked up through Dolcarth Mine saw the tin works and then went to sister Polmear’s for an hour. On our way, we called to see Nellie Maynard and her present from Lillie which she sent by me from Portland at 6pm. We returned home with sister Pearce and after tea rested for the night.
Mamma, Arthur and myself after breakfast took a long walk to Tehidy Park and through Park Bottom and by Chapel of Ease and home through Trevenson grounds to sister Pearce’s. After dinner both Mamma and I had a map. Arthur went to St Day to see the Hensley girls. Then Mamma and I wrote to Captain and Mrs Prideaux at Liverpool.
Up at 7am. After breakfast Mamma and I walked two miles to Pearce and gave the two handkerchiefs to Wm Endie’s sisters. At 11.15 visited the home of my birth. A Mrs Pryer lived there with husband and family. We knew Mrs Pryer when a girl and we stayed for two and a half hours, had a nice visit and all the bread and cream we could eat. We were given a nice bouquet from the old garden and then visited Betty Adit, a spring or well of lovely water.
From there we went down over Tellows Hill to the village of Brea and called to see Mrs Richard whom we knew when young. We then walked homeward through Cooks Kitchen Mine on the main road to my sister Pearce’s where we reached about 4.30 pm and glad to lay ourselves down to rest at 7 pm (after tea).
We went to Tuckingmill mid-week preaching service after which we went with Mr and Mrs Edwards to their home nearby for about an hour. Mrs Edward, we were acquainted with early in life and a Sunday morning class mate of ours for years. The class was well attended by old and young led by Capt. Roger Vivian and met from 8.00 to 9.15 am at a private home of a member. We retired about 10 pm and called it a day well spent.
Up at 7 o’clock then read the Oregonian received from home. Mamma at her fancy work Arthur reading Oregonian and sister doing the dishes. I then wrote to Stephen. At 1.30 pm us three walked up to Troon to a Band of Hope Convention and got there at 3 o’clock and we were diverted to Cousin John Prideaux, his daughter Mary Laty open the door and said she knew me at first glance. We entered and met Annie her younger sister. Cousin John soon came downstairs and we were glad to greet each other after forty years. (His wife being in London.) We were soon at home and in a little while we went to the afternoon convention. Arthur went with Mary Laty and Annie and us two with Cousin John.
At 5.31 we attended a tea meeting in the Church vestry for the Band of Hope benefit. We then returned to cousin John’s (nearby) for half an hour to rest. 7pm we went to Church again and heard the Temperance address. 8.45 we left for Sister Pearce’s, a distance of three miles arriving at 9.35 had some lemon and retired.
After breakfast, I wrote to George. 9.30 Arthur, Mamma and I walked to Carn Brea hill and around the castle. The view was magnificent for miles around. The sea coast of Portreath was plainly in view three and a half miles to the north while Falmouth was seeming many miles to south with Redruth one and a half miles east and Camborne two miles west, Hayle and St Ives six and eight further north west. The English Channel seems so near to Portreath we could see the white caps. On our way up Carn Brea Hill we saw and heard the Cuckoo sing and the little bird near his side.
We came back home 12.30 had dinner and rested. In the evening, we called to see Mr and Mrs Tregonning, Mr and Mrs Pengilly and Mrs Kendall at Tuckingmill.
Changed our clothing and rested all day. In the evening, we then went to Saturday night Prayer Meeting.
Arthur and I visited Thomas Crase’s Class Meeting 8 am. 10.30 am three of us went to Pool Methodist Church. On our way home, we met Mr Thomas Willoughby. Leaving him we met Mr John Mayne and wife who we knew forty years before. After dinner 2.30pm, we went to Mr. Joseph Wren’s at Illogan Downs to tea, had lots of English cream and returned home to my sister’s at 9.15pm.
After breakfast at 9 am we three left for Portreath three miles on the north coast. At the top of Portreath Hill we turned to the left and visited my cousin Mrs Paul at Tray Farm where we rested of an hour and had some lunch.
Then we walked to the cliff a mile away and from to Portreath another mile and a half. After walking on the beach and through archways to the water and we turned homeward through the town of Portreath where we arrived at 3.30 pm. Very tired for our walk.
We met Mrs Kendallon our return and after resting had tea at 6pm.
In the evening we were visited by Mrs Nellie Maynard (my niece) and her mother in law Mrs Maynard. We spent a pleasant evening and after supper, we retired at 10.30pm.
After breakfast at 9.30 Mamma took bus for St Day to her brother’s. Arthur went to Troon for the day and I went to East Pool Mine to see Joe. Wren and gave him picture of Mr Sharts and a doily from Mrs P to Mrs Wren.
After dinner I visited Holman Bros. Boiler Works. My nephew Wm Pearce the foreman showed me through. I then went to sister Polmear’s stopped to tea and returned home to Sister Pearce’s at 9 pm and retired soon after.
Arthur and I got up at 6.20 and left for Redruth at 8 o’clock and got there in 45 minutes and left for Falmouth at 9clock on a bus. Arthur and I rode outside on top, lovely scenery all the way. Reached Falmouth 11.15 and called to see Miss Bessie Andrews at 11.40 for 15 minutes then took a walk and had dinner at a Restaurant.
At 12.50 we went again to Miss Andrews and sat with them while they took their main meal and we had a cup of tea. We met Mr Andrews and his father (very old). We then visited Old Curiosity Shop and bought a plate of old English lustre for sixpence. At 3pm we took the Fal Boat Victoria for Truro by way of the Fal River. The scenery was lovely.
Landed at Truro five minutes to four o’clock and went to the Cathedral where Divine Service was being held after which we looked the Cathedral.
At 6pm we left by rail for Redruth where we met Mamma and the Hensley girls from St Day. After wishing them goodbye we three walked to Pool to my sisters and after refreshments retired for the night.
After breakfast Arthur and I went to see Joe Wren who showed us the big engines etc at East Pool Mine and came back at noon for lunch.
2.30 pm Arthur and I went to Carnartheu to take a view of the house of my birth and also a view of my grandfather house at Brea. We went up by way of Tilemins Hill and came home by Betty Adit Road and the arch at Brea to Nellie Maynard’s and from there to Mr T Tregonning’s where we met Mamma at 5.35.
After we had all had tea, Arthur with the Tregonning boy went to Tehidy Park.
At 8pm Mamma and I left Mrs Tregonnings and made a short call on Mrs Gilbert from there to Mr Charles Bartles and then to see his bro. William who was organist at Tuckingmill (Chapel) Church. We met Mr James Tregonning on our way to my sisters at Pool Carn Brea.
Friday June 1st.
Very tired and wrote Mr Gawanlack in the morning.
Moved to Sister Polmear’s at Camborne at 11am had roast beef for dinner at 1pm. Mamma, Arthur, Fred Prideaux and I left in a Gingle for Gwithian and returned at 6pm. After tea, I went to Camborne market with Mamma and Sister Polmear Came home at 10pm and retired.
Sunday June 3rd.
Attended Centenary Church in morning. (Mamma and I) Then we visited the grave yard and Mamma’s two brothers’ graves. After dinner, I went with Mamma and Annie Polmear to Wesley Church Union S. School gathering and afterward visited the Episcopal Church Yard and saw my father’s and mother’s graves.
We had tea at 5pm then Annie left with me again to Wesley Church to 6 o’clock service. Got home at 8oclock then went for a walk with Ada and Hettie. Mamma stayed home evening with Sister Polmear.
Was Whit Monday. We had breakfast at 8.30. The I went to David Endie’s and delivered the handkerchief for Mrs J Endey. After dinner Mamma, Annie and I went to see Centenary S. School Processions on Telowarren Street. Then to Roskin Churchyard and saw the graves of grandfather Holman, his daughter Mary’s and the grave of his youngest son James. They were both unmarried. James was 65 when he died. The graves were fenced around the vault. We also looked at my brother William’s grave to the grave of Thomas Pearce my sister’s husband. Tuckingmill S. School after their line of March passed into Roskin field where we follow and had tea with the teachers about 6 pm. We (Mamma and I) met a few whom we knew about thirty years before.
After a pleasant time we returned to my sister Polmear’s 8 pm. Arthur, Fred, Ada and Hettie were off together for the day. The weather has been lovely for the past two weeks.
After breakfast Mamma and I went to Cemetery graveyard to see the Sexton about Mamma’s brother’s grave and again in the afternoon. In the evening, us two called to see Mrs J Burge and Capt. George Nancarrow and renewed our memories of days gone by.
Got up at 6 o’clock. At 8 am Mamma, Hettie and I left for Pendennis one mile and half away just before nine we entered the grounds on the east and rambled. We nearly got lost when we heard a man’s voice and made towards it. I asked the man dressed in white if visitors were allowed and told him our business. He said a certain class were and pointed out the way to Pendennis House and continued to walk and talk till we got there. He then showed us some of the grounds the lovely gardens and Hot Houses etc.
Then to the basement of the House and through the Laundry and other rooms till he brought us to the Housekeeper who with himself showed us to numberless magnificent rooms elegantly furnished, bedrooms, Drawing room, dining room, Library, the billiard room, the Justice Court room and many others. The house contained (70) seventy rooms. We were then led to the outside or I don’t know when we would have gotten there.
The same man then showed us some other gardens, and after a tip we thanked him goodbye. We arrived home to Sister Polmear’s 11.30 tired out and took a nap. (both)
At 3.30 we took a walk to Camborne town and called to see Mrs Richards and had a nice time. I played on her organ. Then we called to see Mrs Jewell a few minutes and from there to Mr J Vivian’s Drapery Store, made a purchase, called two other places and got back to sister’s six o’clock.
After tea Mamma and I went and made a call to see Capt. Rablin. “Not at home.” Then we called to see my niece Mary J Harvey for a short time. From there after tea, we went to Tuckingmill (1/2 Mile) to see Mrs Maynard, we stayed awhile but she was not at home.
We returned to my sister’s 8.45 pm.
After breakfast Mamma and I went to Centenary graveyard again to see her brothers’ graves. John H and James P Hensley. We then came back and wrote George and Mrs Harper, and stayed about the house all day.
Had a nice Chicken Pie for dinner, had tea at 6 o’clock and then Mrs Prideaux, Sister Polmear and I went to Sister Pearce’s 1 ½ miles away.
They spent an hour together while I went to Trevenson Park close by to a Political gathering. I met one or two Old Timers but was too late for the speeches which were on the Conservative side. I heard the Band play God Save the Queen and one or two others and soon returned to Sister Pearce’s.
Arthur was around with my nieces having a good time. We returned to Sister Polmear’s at 10 pm and after refreshments, retired.
After breakfast, I took a walk to Camborne Town and returned 11.30 am. Mamma and Arthur went to Redruth in a Buss at 10 am (John Prideaux struck through in Journal) to see Mamma’s nephew Fred Hensley off for Africa. Cousin John Prideaux took Mamma and Arthur with his married daughter to Redruth in his Gingle and Pony. Mamma and Arthur returned 12.30 and we all had dinner together.
After dinner Arthur and Fred Prideaux went to Troon on the Wheels.
Mamma and I went and settled with the Sexton at Centenary and then went bought Mamma’s fur and my gloves. Came home to tea and made a tea and made another trip to see Capt. Rablin. After a pleasant talk, we got home 9pm and retired 11.30.
After breakfast wrote to George answer a draft received day before. At 11 am Arthur and I went to see Ticket Agent and returned at one o’clock and had dinner. Arthur and my Mamma went off for the afternoon. At 4 pm Mamma, Sister Polmear and I went to Cousin Mary A Harris. Had tea and spent a pleasant evening and left at 9 o’clock. Sister went to Mrs Maynard’s while Mamma and I called to see Mr and Mrs Thomas Crase and Mrs C Richards.
Sunday June 10th
10.30 am Mamma, Annie and I went to the Episcopal Church. Heard a good Sermon on Barnabus. After dinner, Bessie Andrews came and made a long call. At 6 pm Annie and I went to the Methodist Association Church and after coming home we took a walk round Beacon Hill and of Camborne town. A delightful walk and scenery returned at 9pm good light. Retired at 10.
After breakfast, I went to David Endie’s again with a present from Cousin Jamie Endie and from there to Daleoarth Mine. saw and spoke to Capt. Josiah Thomas. I then called to see my niece Nellie Maynard. Then called to see Mrs Jackson for Janie. Then called on Mr John Jenkin and from there to see Mr Maynard.
At 12.30 Arthur and I went and took lunch with Messrs Holman Bros. My cousins in the dining room over their works at Camborne and after being shown through the different departments of the Works we returned to Sister Polmear’s.
At 5 pm Mamma, Arthur and I went to Cousin John H. Holman’s to dinner and spend the evening at his lovely home at Tregenna Camborne. We walked there together and at our arrival he began showing us the many beautiful painting and pictures in the different rooms and one of our Grandfather Holman. Mrs Holman his wife then arrived from Penzance and we soon had dinner together waited on at table by their Butler. After we were shown their acres of gardens and greenhouses for an hour. We were given a lovely bouquet. At 8pm we had supper and spent a pleasant evening in song and game while Mamma and Mrs Holman chatted.
At 10.30 we returned to Sister Polmears.
Mamma, Arthur and I took a train at Camborne Station 8.35 am for Penzance where we arrived 9.15. We first called on Cousin Fred Holman at his home and took Carriage for Lands End 9.50 and got there 12.15. After walking on the rocks out to ocean and seeing points of interest we left 1.30 pm for St. Just and arrived there 3pm. I saw Cousin John Holman at his Foundry Office, made myself known and we were soon at his home with his wife and family. We spent a delightful hour and a half with a roomful of relations who gathered in a few minutes with Cousin John and his wife.
We left for Penzance 4.30 in a mist of rain which continued all the way. We got back to Cousin Fred Holman’s at 6pm, had dinner as invited and after a very pleasant visit he went with us to the Depot and we left 8.10 pm for Camborne arriving at 8.55 pm and walked to Sister Polmear’s in fast rain. We slept well and got up at 6.30 am.
After breakfast Arthur and I went to Mr Vines the Ticket Agent and secured our births on the Steam Ship St. Paul to sail from Southampton to New York.
After dinner I called on Mr C V Thomas at his Office and at Bank to cash check. Then wrote Kate from Sister Polmear’s.
Nellie Maynard called 10 am and Mr A Harris in the evening and left a souvenir.
Breakfasted at 7. At 9 am Sister Polmear, her four daughters, Mamma, Arthur and me (8 in all) left in a Wagonette for Porthawan 8 miles from Camborne where we arrived 10.30. Showery Day. At 12 we all had our lunch in a cottage “by the sea.” On a long table, full of good things. Returned home at 4 pm and after tea retired at 9.30 pm.
At 11 am. I went to see my cousin Mrs John Vivian of Trove Camborne from there I called to see Lawyer C V Thomas again and got home at one for dinner, rested the afternoon when Cousin John Prideaux called. Mamma rested all day at home.
After breakfast, Arthur and I went and got our tickets for N. York at Agent E Vine. J.H. Holman gave me a view of their Works. After dinner, we rested and left 4pm in a cab for a four day visit to Cousin John P. at Troon. We spent a pleasant evening together, Arthur, Mamma and I slept at Mr Jenkins his son in law across the street.
8.30 Arthur and I went with cousin John to his class meeting. (Cousin John went to preach at his appointment.)
10.30 We all went to Church Service. Dinner at 1 pm. 2pm Arthur and I attended S. School with Cousin John, he the Superintendent. “We had Prayer after noon dinner.” The attendance of S School average 180. At 6pm we all went again to Troon Methodist Church. Then we visited Cousin John’s son Arthur at his home for half an hour and returned to Cousin John’s spent as pleasant evening and retired.
A fine day.
Monday June 18th.
Breakfasted at Mrs Jenkins. After dinner Mamma and I rode with Cousin John and his wife at Miss Rules near Sister Polmear’s to spend the afternoon while he went top Preacher’s Meeting. We had tea 6.30 pm, us four rode to Crowan town and met Cousin John’s Bro. Gilbert on his way to Camborne. After greeting we left for his home nearby and met his wife and two sisters. Aunt Ann was too sick to be seen. After a stay of fifteen minutes we rode to Black Rock in Cousin John’s Gingle. We had a beautiful view of Camborne town of about fifteen thousand inhabitants and the surrounding country and then Mrs Risevoier’s, we rode back to Troon another way marking a complete circle and arrived 8.30 pm. Good light. 10.30 We retired at Mrs Jenkin’s.
A wet day. After breakfast, I looked around Mr Jenkin’s Carpenter Shop then wrote up my Diary, “which I did every day.” Around house all day. Wrote to George and Bro. Stephen. In the evening, it cleared so we four took a nice walk, Mamma, Cousin John and wife and I. After a pleasant evening together, we retired.
“Arthur, Annie and Mary Laty, enjoyed trips together daily.”
After breakfast, I took a walk to Sister Polmear’s. Stopped for dinner and met Grace Varnan my niece.
2.30 pm I walked up to Troon and got there 3.15.
6 o’clock we had dinner at Cousin John’s with Mr and Mrs Willoughby and Miss Willoughby his sister after which Mr Willoughby, Cousin John and I took a walk together.
At 9pm Mamma and I said goodbye to all (which ended our visit) and walked to Sister Polmear’s and retired 11.30 pm.
After breakfast, we began to get together to pack. Eleven o’clock Cousin John came with our valises in his Pony and Gingle.
11.30 I went to Camborne town for the last time. Got home 12.45 and had chicken dinner with sister Polmear, her four daughters and my wife. After dinner Mrs Simmons and her sister Caroline called to see us. 4pm Sister, my wife and I went to Nellie Maynard for tea and enjoyed ourselves very much. Then Mamma went to say goodbye to Mrs Tregonning and I walked to sister Pearce’s with sister Polmear. Mamma came and we spent a pleasant hour together and drank our last cup of tea there. Returned home 8.30 with Sister Polmear. Said good bye to several on the way.
Nellie Maynard walked up with us from Tuckingmill. We said goodbye to Nellie and retired 10pm.
June 22nd (Friday)
At 11.15 am I left sister Polmear’s for St Day. I went so far as Redruth and returned to Sister Polmear’s for my overcoat I had left behind had some tea and cake and left 1.15 and walked to sister Pearce’s, who an hour before fell and hurt her kneecap. She was in bed. I kissed her goodbye and had to walk to Illogan a mile and met a chance to ride with two boys to Redruth. I met Arthur and went with him to see my cousin Mrs. Simmons and took with us my cousin Mrs Paul to meet Mamma. We all had a nice cup of tea together and rested at Mrs Simmons.
We started to go and met cousin John, His wife and daughter at the street. Mamma, Arthur and I wished all goodbye and went straight to Mr Charles Bowden’s Office, Mamma’s first cousin at Redruth, after a short visit at his Office with him and his son he took me to his home at Ingleside on Clinton Road. A very nice house beautifully furnished. Then he walked with us to Redruth Market and left. We soon met Miss Hensley and Hettie and began to walk towards St Day. We were overtaken by a Buss so Mamma and the two Miss Hensleys rode. Arthur and I walked and got there soon after at 7pm had tea and retired at 10pm.
At St Day. Got up at 7.30. After breakfast, I took a short walk then wrote up Diary and wrote letter to Janie while Mamma rested. I hire a Wagonette and at 1.30 pm Arthur and the Hensley family went on a trip to Padstow and returned 5.30. After tea Mamma and I took a walk about St Day. The Market House etc. Met Dr Mitchell who told us of days gone by. We then returned to Mr N W Hensley’s, Mrs Prideaux’s brother and retired 10pm.
Sunday June 24th
Breakfasted at 9 o’clock. 10.30 We went to Wesley Church heard a grand sermon, after which we went to Episcopal Churchyard to see the grave of Mr A Bowden and the grave of Miss G Bowden, Mamma’s uncle and aunt. Had dinner at 1.30 at 3pm Arthur, Miss Mary Hensley and I visited the S. School of 300 scholars where I made my maiden address.
We had tea at 5.15 and at 6 o’clock we went again to St Day Wesley Church after service we met Mr and Mrs Fletcher and then took a walk to Scorrier Station by way of Tregulla and back and retired 9pm.
Up at 7 am had breakfast at 9 o’clock. 10.40 Mamma and I left by Buss for Chasewater and arrived 11.10 am. We walked from there to Blackwater to see Mrs E. J Floyd. We got there about noon and had a nice lunch of Saffron Cake, English Cream etc. After a nice visit, we left for St Day by way of Tregulla accompanied by Mrs Lloyd to Scorrier Station where she returned and we walked back to Mr Hensley’s at 4 pm well pleased with our trip. We saw St Day Fair on our way home, bought oranges, cherries and strawberries. After tea Mamma and I took another walk to see St Day Fair. We retired 11.30 pm Arthur and his cousins not yet retired from Troon.
Beautiful sunshine morning up at 7.30 and breakfast at 9 o’clock. After a short walk, we rested till noon. At 1pm Mamma and left for Redruth to spend the afternoon with Mr Charles Bowen and family. “Mamma’s cousin.” We reached Redruth 2.30 I called on Mr Bowden at his Office. He chased my check and we went for a ten-minute walk and he returned to his Office. I met Mamma as agreed and after visiting several stores to get what we want and then went to Mr Bowden’s home. 4.30 pm we had tea served to us by Miss Bowden. At 6 o’clock Mr C Bowden came home and we enjoyed a fine dinner 6.30. With Mr Bowden his two daughters, two sons and one daughter’s husband Mr Wickette. Soon Mr Bowden left to meet some engagement. We stayed till 8 pm. When Mamma and I left for her bros at St Day and got there 8.45. We then called to see Mamma’s cousin Mr J Bowden. Arthur spent the time with his cousins the Misses Hensleys. We retired 10 pm well tired out for the long walk.
Up at 7.30. I went and hired a Gingle to take Arthur to Redruth to take the 11.10 am Train for London. Hettie and I rode in to see him off. Mamma helped him pack his valise. We had breakfast and left at 9 o’clock. The train left on time and we watched him out of sight. At 11.45 I took Buss for Camborne to see Sister Polmear for the last time. Arrived there 12.30 and had a nice Turnip Pasty.
For dinner with Sister and her five daughters. 3pm I wished my nieces goodbye and Sister walked with me to see my niece Nellie Maynard and say goodbye. We then walked to Pool to visit my Sister Pearce who was in bed from a fall she received some days before and bruised her kneecap. I stayed and chatted with both sisters till 4.30. Wished them good bye and gave the farewell kiss. I was here given some of Sister Pearce’s son’s wedding cake. Who was married the day before. “June 26”. I then left for Redruth again and called to say goodbye Mrs Hosking and at Pool Mr E Church. I saw cousin John Prideaux and said goodbye to him.
From there I walked two miles to Redruth and called to see my cousin Mrs E Simmons and enjoyed a cup of nice tea with her and her sister Mrs Jervell with whom I sang in the chair in our younger days.
At 7 o’clock I said goodbye to them and left for St Day. I soon saw two bays in a carriage and got a ride to St Day. When I arrived Mamma and Miss N W Hensley were out for a summer evening walk. I then walked with Mrs Hensley and her little boy Jim to feed their cows and chickens then returned home only about 6 blocks away. We retired 9.30 pm.
Got up at 7am had breakfast 9 o’clock then mailed a paper to George for Arthur and a letter to Grace H Varman from Mamma. I then wrote up my Diary. Dinner at 2pm then read and napped till 5. We had tea at 6.30. I was at the house all day, talking with Mr Hensley “who was on the sick list” of days past and present etc and then Mamma there too. At 7.30 pm I visited with Miss Nanny Hensley his grandmother Mrs Morley and I gave Miss Hensley his first lesson in music on the Piano. The Nanny and I walk back to her home and took Mamma out for a walk for ½ an hour, retired 9.30 pm.
Up at 7 and breakfast at 9 am. Then wrote to Kate, Lillie and George. Then rested till 4.30pm. When Nanny and I went to her grandmother’s for a lesson on the piano. We then walked back to tea after which we packed our valises for London next day. We spent the evening with Mr N W Hensley and family (He was no better) and retired at 10 pm.
Up 7 o’clock and breakfast 8.30. Wrote a letter to Kate at 10 am. We wished Mr Hensley and family goodbye and took hired Cab for Redruth Depot accompanied by Miss N Hensley who saw Mamma and I leave for London on the 11.10 am train. Mr C Bowden his two sons, his daughter and husband (Mr and Mrs Wicket) were there also to see us off.
Our first stop was at St Austell 12.15 noon, at Bodmin 12.40 at Liskeard (rain) 1pm at Devonport 1.30 At Plymouth 1.40 and stopped 8 minutes.
Arrived at Exeter 3 pm and stopped 8 minutes. At Bristol 4.35 and left 4.45. No more stops till we got to London. We had a cup of tea at Bristol. We passed Bath 5.10pm then passed through a long tunnel which took three or four minutes. From Redruth to Bristol we passed through 15 short tunnels.
The weather throughout the day was showery. We passed Swindon Junction at 5.40 and soon after began to pass through a beautiful level flat and green farming country dotted with cattle, sheep and horses which continued for an hour or more. Many trains passed us through the day and the railroad track was double most of the way.
We had a young red jacket soldier in our car from Plymouth to London whose destination was China. We arrived at Paddington Station 7pm (dry weather) and took cab for Mrs Dynes, 22 Garden Street, Garden Square WC three miles from Paddington depot.7.45 we got ourselves ready and had supper 8.15 pm after which I wrote two Postal Cards to my sister’s at Pool and Camborne and retired well tired out.