Morwenstow

“ Hawker returned to Morwenstow, to fresh suffering, disappointment, and anxieties. I give a few of his last letters to one whom he regarded as his best friend.
Morwenstow, Sept. 22, 1874. My dear Valentine,—You brought to my house the solitary blessing of my life. My three daughters came to me through you, as God’s instrument. I must write to you. You will not have many more letters from me.... My mind has been so racked and softened that I shall never be myself again. My health, too, is gone. My legs are healed, but the long drain has enfeebled me exceedingly. ”

“ Thomas was curate, the vicar, Parson Young, died. A petition from the farmers and householders of Morwenstow to the bishop was got up, to request him to appoint Mr. Thomas. The curate, so runs the tale, went to Exeter to present the paper with their signatures, and urge his claims in person.
“My lord,” said he, “the Dissenters have all signed the petition: they are all in favour of me. Not one has declined to attach his name; even the Wesleyan minister wishes to see me vicar of Morwenstow.”
“Then, my good sir,” said Dr. Phillpotts, “it is very clear that you are not the man for me. ”

“ CHAPTER III Description of Morwenstow—The Anerithmon Gelasma—Source of the Tamar—Tonacombe—Morwenstow Church—Norman Chevron-Moulding—Chancel—Altar—Shooting Rubbish—The Manning Bed—The Yellow Poncho—The Vicarage—Mr. Tom Knight—The Stag, Robin Hood—Visitors—The Silent Tower of Bottreaux—The Pet of Boscastle.
A writer in The Standard gives this description of Morwenstow: “No railway has as yet come near Morwenstow, and none will probably ever approach it nearer than Bude. The coast is iron-bound. ”

“ Morwenna’s sanctuary.
He wrote to me on the subject:—
16 Harley Road, South Hampstead, April 20, 1874. My dear Sir,—I am here in quest of medical aid for my wife and myself. I am so far better that I can preach, and I am trying to get offertories here for the restoration of my grand old Morwenstow Church. Only one has been granted me thus far—last night at St. Matthias, Brompton, where I won an evening offertory “with my sword and with my bow,” twenty-two pounds eighteen shillings, whereas the average for two years at evensong has been under five pounds. ”

“ How can the pen cease from writing about Cornwall? And yet it must. There is a devil—a printer's devil—that counts our idle words. I may not tell of wind-swept Morwenstow, where Tennyson and Hawker roamed the wave-fretted cliffs together and talked of the Table Round, nor of lofty [370] Launceston, with its ivied Norman keep and great granite church whose outer walls are covered with elaborate carving. ”

“ On unravelling this tangle in 1874, when writing my July volumes of "Lives of the Saints," I wrote to Mr. Hawker of Morwenstow, and told him that the east window of his church represented Morwenna of Cornwall teaching Edith of Polesworth, and that it was an anachronism and mistake altogether, as it was not Edith who was educated by the saintly Modwenna, and the abbess Modwenna was not the virgin Morwenna. I told him also that St. Modwenna was buried at Burton-on-Trent. ”

“ A few days after, the agent came to him to inform him that the firm purposed laying the keel of a new vessel, and that the captain for whom he pleaded should be appointed to her.
The ship was built, and was baptised Morwenna. She now sails to and fro along this coast, and, whenever she passes Morwenstow, runs up a flag, as a mark of deference to the spot whence she derives her name.
The flotsam and jetsam of a wreck are the property of the Crown. The coast-guard are on the qui-vive after a storm, and there is no chance now for village wreckers. ”

“ They built there altar and arch, aisle and device in stone. They linked their earliest structure with [8] Morwenna’s name, the tender and the true; and so it is that notwithstanding the lapse of ten whole centuries of English time, at this very day the bourn of many a pilgrim to the West is the Station of Morwenna, or, in simple and Saxon phrase, Morwenstow. So runs the quaint and simple legend of our Tamar-side; and so ascend into the undated era of the ninth or tenth age the early Norman arches, font, porch, and piscina of Morwenstow church. ”

“ The only parish of which I can report favourably is my own cure of Wellcombe. Morwenstow is, as it always was, Wesleyan to the backbone; but at Wellcombe the church attendance is remarkable. The same people are faithful and constant as worshippers, and the communicants from two hundred and four souls are fourteen. When any neighbouring clergyman has officiated for me, he is struck with the number and conduct of the congregation. The rector of Kilkhampton often declares Wellcombe to be the wonder of the district. This is to me a great compensation for the unkindly Church feeling of Morwenstow. ”

“ Dr. Phillpotts, the late Bishop of Exeter, not long after this occurred, came to Morwenstow to visit Mr. Hawker. Whilst being shown the landscape from the garden, the bishop’s eye rested on Robin Hood.
“Why! that stag which butted and tossed Mr. Knight is still suffered to live! It might have killed him.”
“No great loss, my lord,” said Mr. Hawker. “He is very Low Church.”
Early next morning loud cries for assistance penetrated the vicar’s bedroom. ”

“ Mr. Hawker, as has been already intimated, was rather peculiar in his dress. At first, soon after his induction to Morwenstow, he wore his cassock; but in time abandoned this inconvenient garb, in which he found it impossible to scramble about his cliffs. He then adopted a claret-coloured coat, with long tails. He had the greatest aversion to anything black: the only black things he would wear were his boots. These claret-coloured coats would button over the breast, but were generally worn open, displaying beneath a knitted blue fisherman’s jersey. ”

“ Morwenstow vicarage is curious for its chimneys, which Hawker himself designed from church-towers in his neighbourhood and at Oxford. The church and vicarage stand in loneliness; there is no central village at Morwenstow, but the residences are scattered about the swelling downs and high-banked lanes. At the entrance to the graveyard is the lich-gate and mortuary, where many wrecked seamen were taken for burial. Such burials recall the unforgettable incident that occurred during the conveyance of one poor mangled body from the shore. ”

“ In 1873 or 1874 the rector of Kilkhampton was about to go to Exeter to preach an ordination service in its cathedral. The vicar of Morwenstow said to him: “Go, and bid the young men entering the holy ministry be honest, loyal, true.” Is that the exhortation of a man conscious in his own heart that he is a traitor?
One day, not long ago, he was in Kilkhampton, and entered the house of an old man, a builder, there.
The old man said to him: “You know, Mr. Hawker, what names you have been called in your day. They have said you were a Roman Catholic.” ”

“ It is impossible to stand on these cliffs, and not cite the ἀνήριθμον γέλασμα, παμμῆτόρ τε γῆ of the poet.
If this were quoted in the ears of the vicar of Morwenstow, he would stop, lay his hand on one’s arm and say—
“How do you translate that?”
“‘The many-twinkling smile of ocean.’”
“I thought so. So does every one else. But it is wrong,” with emphasis—“utterly wrong. Listen to me. Prometheus is bound, held backwards, with brazen fetters binding him to the rock. He cannot see the waters, cannot note their smiles. He gazes up into the sky above him. But he hears. ”

“ Not many weeks after, the vicar sent Stanlake to Boscastle, and, thinking he would be cold, gave him again a bottle of whisky. Of course, once more the man got drunk. This time the vicar did not overlook it; but which of the two was really to blame?
Mr. Robert Stephen Hawker was a man of the most unbounded hospitality. Every one who visited Morwenstow met with a warm welcome: everything his larder and dairy contained was produced in the most lavish profusion. The best that his house could afford was freely given. ”

“ His very aspect was that of the master in Israel, conscious of his indubitable position, and whose mind was thoroughly made up on questions about which many other men either have no certain opinions, or at least have no such ground for holding them as that with which his learning and acuteness at once supplied him. Such was the late vicar of Morwenstow, one of the very last men in England to leave the Church of which he gloried to be a priest, of whose cause he was at all times the most unyielding defender, and in whose communion it was his hope and prayer to die. ”

“ Phillpotts was Bishop of Exeter, a visit of the bishop to Morwenstow had been planned and decided upon. Mrs. Hawker insisted on having the blue room fitted up for his lordship. A fire would have to be lighted in the grate: the chimney would smoke unless cleared of nests.
Mr. Hawker stood by whilst Mrs. Hawker and the maid prepared the blue room. He would not have the jackdaws disturbed; he had given them his word of honour. Mrs. Hawker argued that necessity knows no law: the bishop must have a fire, and the jackdaws must make way for the bishop. ”

“ The ancient church of Morwenstow, on the northern shore of Cornwall, notwithstanding a large outlay of the present vicar, has fallen into dilapidation and disrepair. A great part of the oak shingle roof requires to be relaid. The walls must be painted anew, and the windows, benches and floor ought to be restored. ”

“ The arcade is rich and good for the date.
Of the same date are the carved oak benches. A few only are earlier, and bear the symbols of the transfixed heart on the spear, the nails and cross. These Mr. Hawker found laid as flooring under the pews, their faces planed. The rest bear, on shields, sea-monsters. There was a fine oak screen very much earlier in style than the benches. When Mr. Hawker arrived at Morwenstow, the clerk said to him: “Please, your honor, I have done you a very gude turn. I’ve just been and cut down and burned a rubbishing old screen that hid the chancel.” ”

“ In former times, when a ship was being driven on the rocks on Sunday, whilst divine service was going on, news was sent to the parson, who announced the fact from the pulpit, or reading-desk, whereupon ensued a rapid clearance of the church. The story is told of a parson at Poughill, near Morwenstow, who, on hearing the news, proceeded down the nave in his surplice as far as the font; and the people, supposing there was to be a christening, did not stir. But when he was near the door he shouted: “My Christian brethren, there’s a ship wrecked in the cove: let us all start fair!” ”

“ I never knew game so scarce since I came to Morwenstow; except some woodcocks, which I sent to the bishop as usual in October and November, we have had literally none.
And now for one of those waste things, a word of advice. You are in what is called by snobs a fast college. I earnestly advise you to eschew fast men. I am now suffering from the effects of silly and idle outlay in Oxford. I do hope that nothing will induce you to accept that base credit which those cormorants, the Oxford tradesmen, always try to force on freshmen, in order to harass and rob them afterwards. ”

“ It will be seen that nothing but his intense grasp of the doctrine of the Incarnation saved him from drifting into the wildest vagaries of mysticism.
He would never open out to any one who he thought was not spiritually minded.
A commonplace neighbouring parson, visiting him once, asked him what were his views and opinions.
Mr. Hawker drew him to the window. “There,” said he, “is Hennacliff, there the Atlantic stretching to Labrador, there Morwenstow crag, here the church and graves: these are my views. As to my opinions, I keep them to myself.” ”

“ Hawker represented him as seeing that his end was drawing nigh. Every preparation was made for departure, the boxes were packed, and all was ready, on Monday; his impatience to be gone rapidly growing.
Mrs. Hawker wrote to his nephew at Whitstone, eight miles from Stratton, to say that they would lunch with him on Tuesday, the 10th, on their way back from Plymouth to Morwenstow, intending to drive the distance in the day. ”

“ As she lay a-dying, says the legend, her brother Nectan came to her from Hartland.
"Raise me in thy arms, brother," she said, "that my eyes may rest on my native Wales." And so she died on Morwenstow cliff, looking out across the Severn Sea to the faint blue line of the Welsh mountains. St. Nectan had a cell probably at Wellcombe, and afterwards at Hartland, for both of these churches bear his name.
The coast from Tintagel to Hartland is almost unrivalled for grandeur. The restless Atlantic is ever thundering on this iron-walled coast. The roar can be heard ten miles inland ”

“ Hawker, Robert Stephen (1804-1875) .—Poet and antiquary, ed. at Cheltenham and Oxf., became parson of Morwenstow, a smuggling and wrecking community on the Cornish coast, where he exercised a reforming and beneficent, though extremely unconventional, influence until his death, shortly before which he was received into the Roman Catholic Church. ”

“ It becomes of interest, therefore, to examine as far as possible into the dates which attach to the different periods of architecture of the truly venerable church of Morwenstow.
It is very likely that Mr. Hawker is correct when he speaks of the first church here dedicated to God’s service as being of Saxon times, but it is equally true that, with the exception of perhaps the font, no trace of that early building remains. The earliest portion of the present building consists of the south porch and the three Norman arches which form the western portion of the north arcade. ”