 |
A Crowded Churchyard
From "The Western Morning
News," April 30th. 1901
Far away on the wild coast, high up among the lonely
hills and within sound of the murmuring sea, a
cluster of thatched and whitewashed cottages around a
church steeple; distant many miles from town and
railway, and with the regularity and retirement of
its rural life only disturbed by the shipping
disasters which occur below the frowning cliffs -
such is the village of St. Keverne, which stands, the
monitor of the grim Manacles beneath, at the southern
extremity of Falmouth Bay.
Had the parish, with its fertile soil, been in the
heart of the country instead of on its fringe it
would have been known only for its husbandry and its
choice herds and flocks, but its contiguity to a
deadly coastline has given it a unique and sombre
place in history.
Its most interesting possession is its churchyard. A
curious statement this, it may be said, but it is
perfectly true, for the "God's acre"
around the fine parish church contains the memorials
and the relics of tragic events which have led people
to associate shipwreck with the very name of St.
Keverne.
Interest in such a phase of parochial history is, of
course, mournful, abut as you walk in the churchyard
and react the lines on headstones which tell of
memorable catastrophes, or stand within the spacious
interior of the church and gaze upon the beautiful
memorial window and the cold marble tablet on the
wall, you come under the power of a pathetic spell,
and feel the tragic fascination of the spot.
The manners and conversation of the people -
particularly the older folk, who are in large
proportion on these healthy uplands, tinged with the
fading colours of superstition and antique thought -
support the impression which grows in the mind of the
stranger, that here is a spot where fancy and
tradition linger long and die hard.
But the subject of this article is not the folklore
of the parish - an extremely interesting question -
but the churchyard, in which, it is believed, the
bodies of nearly five hundred shipwrecked mariners
rest, and which at the present time urgently needs
extension. Many churchyards around the rocky coast of
Cornwall contain the remains of sailors who have
perished - in the sea near by, but St.Keverne is
pre-eminent for the number of such burials and for
the magnitude of the wrecks with which its history is
associated.
The parchment pages of the parish register teem with
entries of the burial of unknown bodies washed ashore
on St. Keverne's long coastline.
"Woman, name unknown, washed ashore at the
Lowlands";
"Three men found drowned at Kennack
Beach," and so on, with sorrowful iteration.
But the larger entries arrest attention. Under date
January 22nd, 1809, when William Whitehead was
minister, we read of a startling tragedy:-
On Sunday morning about half-past three the
Dispatch, transport (Geo. Fenwick, master), havinig
three officers and 70 men of the Seventh Light
Dragoons, on her return from Corunna, was driven upon
the rocks near Coverack, and all on board perished
except seven private dragoons. The three unfortunate
officers, who had survived a disastrous campaign to
perish on the English shore, were Major Cavendish,
Captain Duckenfield, and Lieutenant Waldegrave. On
the same morning about five o'clock the brig of
war Primrose (James Mien, Esq., commander) was
wrecked on the Manacle Rocks. Her complement of
officers and men consisted of 120, besides six
passengers. Only one poor lad was preserved (Dei
Gratia) from the dreadful catastrophe. From these
wrecks 104 bodies were buried in the churchyard of
this parish between January 24th and April
2nd.
In 1855 the memorable wreck of the emigrant vessel
John occurred, and 120 bodies were interred close to
the church, the burials extending over a long period
:-
May 5th, 67 bodies washed ashore ; May 9th, body of
boy from the John ; May 12th, 35 bodies ; May 16th,
five bodies May 17th, two, and several subsequent
entries. Every winter seems to have brought its own
quota of graves, some named and many unnamed.
In 1873 eight bodies were recovered from the wreck
of the steamer Clan Alpine ; in 1890 several from the
Spyridon Vagliano; while the fateful blizzard of
March, 1891, wrought havoc to quite a number of
vessels.
The most notable ship at that time was the Bay of
Panama, of which the captain, chief officer, and five
men were cast ashore. Coining to recent times the
appalling loss of life by the foundering of the
Atlantic liner Mohegan on the Manacles made an
impression on the public mind which it will take many
years to efface. Canon Diggens, then and now vicar of
the parish, made an entry in the register which
possesses a peculiar interest in view of the
agitation for a warning light on the Manacles
I, the vicar, having seen much of the sufferings
of the rescued and the sorrows of the bereaved,
earnestly pray that effectual steps may be taken to
warn vessels of the position of the dreaded rocks
which have been the scene of so many terrible
disasters.
The Porthoustock lifeboat saved 44 persons from the
Mohegan, three or four were rescued in other ways,
and 106 were drowned. Forty corpses were laid out in
the church at one time. About forty were interred in
St. Keverne churchyard, 36 being placed in a great
grave right under the shadow of the church
steeple.
It was almost a miracle that saved the great ship
Paris from the same fate as the Mohegan, for she
passed close by the submerged hull and ran ashore in
a position which prevented the loss of the a single
life out of her heavy freight of human lives.
The church stands on an altitude above the village
roofs, and the burying ground slopes away to ivy and
lichen covered walls, and on one side to a boundary
formed by roofs of thatch. A wide lych gate gives
entrance to the churchyard, and above it is a crude
apartment of dilapidated appearance which has often
sheltered bodies before burial.
The inscriptions over the graves are sad reading.
The place where 120 bodies from the wreck of the John
were deposited only a small slate slab, around which
the rank grass flourishes. On this diminutive
monument are a rough carving of the wreck and the
words
"Sacred to the memory of 120 persons
who were drowned in the wreck of
The ship John, May 3,
1855.
Erected by one of the survivors."
|
For a long time this place of interment was
unmarked, and the little plain slab which one has now
to stoop to read was placed there by a survivor who
visited the spot some years after, and was doubtless
impressed with the neglect which had been shewn.
Most of the bodies recovered from wrecks lie beneath
the grass mounds close by the wall on the north side
facing the open sea, and looking right away over the
bay to the distant Deadman and white St.
Anthony's lighthouse. A profusion of weeds and
nettles grows above the remains of several bodies
from The Bay of Panama. The only stone relating to
that calamity is the one to the memory of Thomas
Bullocke, the chief officer. Nearly a century has
passed since the soldiers from the Despatch and the
Primrose were buried, and no memorial marks their
last resting-place. An old villager, whose memory is
an encyclopedia of funereal knowledge, pointed ont
the precise place of interment to the writer, and
said he knew it, because when the grave was dug for
those who perished in the wreck of the John the
buttons and red cloth of some of the soldiers were
turned up quite fresh, although they had been
underground for a generation. The Despatch victims
are commemorated by a marble which was originally
erected in the churchyard, but is now a mural
monument within the church. Below the names of the
officers and other particulars appear these striking
lines
When Britain sends at liberty's command
Her ready youth to free a stranger land,
She bears her slain in triumph to the shore,
And the proud parent shows the wounds before.
But when her sons, each form of danger past,
Strain their glad eyes to view her hills at last;
If then the tempest rolls the foaming flood,
And her own ocean' whelms her bravest blood,
When there a Dukenfield, a Cavendish here,
And youthful Waldegrave press a wat'ry bier;
Their mourning comrades feel a moisten'd
cheek,
And bid the marble their dumb sorrow speak.
Tyrant! the barrier of thy rage, the deep
Aids thy fierce boast, and English mothers
weep
|
Most of the graves - of Englishmen and foreigners
alike are distinguished by stones, and beneath the
shades of the sycamore and the poplars may been seen
the brief and touching records which tell the grief
of broken hearts.
One of the most conspicuous monuments in the whole
churchyard is the fine granite cross, erected by
subscriptions chiefly from the neighbourhood of St.
Keverne, reared above the large Mohegan grave. Single
graves connected with that sad event are surmounted
by handsome stones. The churchyard is divided into
two by an intersecting pathway. The portion away from
the church was opened about forty years ago, and it
is a singular fact that the man who sold the ground
and the man who bought it died suddenly and were the
first to be buried in the ground which was
transferred by their own act.
A movement is now on foot to extend the churchyard,
a work of undoubted necessity. An adjacent garden has
been given by the Rev. Sir Vyell Vyvyan, but the
leaseholder has to be bought out. The estimated cost
of the extension is about £200, towards which
Canon Diggens has received £70. The interments
arising from shipwrecks are, of course, largely
responsible for the rapid filling up of the
churchyard, and this has put a strain on the
resources of the parish, which the hospitable folk of
the locality would not have been called upon to meet
had they not chanced to live near such a deadly
coast. The responsibilities of their position have
been cheerfully faced by the parishioners, and many
have been the testimonies to their sympathy and
generosity.
Wrecked sailors have acknowledged with gratitude the
bravery of their rescuers, who dwell in the cove by
the sea and the village above; and bereaved relatives
have borne witness to the reverence and care with
which the people have treated the remains of those
who perished. Kindness of this character often brings
its own reward. This is illustrated in a striking
manner by a story related by Hals, the historian.
An ancestor in the family of Sandys, noted in the
parish, and seven other persons of St Keverne were
driven to sea in an open boat by a gale in the year
1702, and after being exposed to the tempest for four
days and three nights reached the coast of Normandy,
They were made prisoners, but a gentleman who saw
Sandys remembered him, and exclaimed, "I know
your person, and well remember the kindness you
shewed me in my distress many years ago at your house
when my ship was cast away and lost on the coast of
St. Keverne."
The narrative tells how they embraced each other,
and on the circumstances coming to the knowledge of
the King, Louis XIV., the Englishmen were released
and allowed to return their own country. This is a
romantic proof of the value of kindness; but the
parishioners do not find such ready results in these
prosaic days.
One would regard it as obvious that St. Keverne is
entitled to some help from outside sources in bearing
the burden of providing for the misfortunes of those
who go down to the sea in ships; but the days of
romance are gone, and an unsentimental Board of Trade
shrugs its shoulders and tells the vicar that it has
no funds at its disposal with which to assist such an
object. It is to be hoped that some out of the many
with whom the claim should have some weight will be
found willing to bear a share of the cost. If there
is a sufficieny of funds the vicar hopes to make an
adequate extension of the churchyard; to provide a
proper mortuary; and possibly to place headstones on
unmarked graves, and by so doing repair the neglect
of a former generation.
Top Of Page
History Home Page
|
|
