The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1892-07-14
NAKEMANS NANDERlNCS
ANCIENT ST. IVES.

orv-c,,m,es of Glorious Scenery. Odd
mir. Of Antiquity and the Noted Pill
ehard Fishery Of the Western Cornish
Coast.
downright. 1897. by Edgar l.. Wakeman.l
CT. IVES. Cornwall, June ls.-In the ten
ier realm Of nursery rhyme lore there is
no pleasanter mysticism than that which
clings TO the pretty riddle:
ASH was goinr 30 s.. Ives
met a man with seven wives.
Each wife had seven sacks;
Each sack had seven cats;
Each cat had seven kits;
Kits. cats, sacks and wives
How many were there going 10 81 lyesE
So deep and lasting are the impressions
of childhood, that as tramped around the
southern reach Of 81. Ives bay from tne
pretty hamlet Of ST. Earth, found myself
unconsciously scanning the highway Tar
ahead for this same wicked old fellow VINO
has puzzled the heads OF millions OF ht'ie
folk. But he was not 10 be seen any more
than the kits, cats, sacks and wives are
TO be taken into account In the olden
riddle. ~,
In truth. no man, woman or chlld was
visible upon the white and circllng hIgn-
vvav st. Earth nestled there silent ana
spparestly deserted against the copse ana
the hillside The tide was out in the bay.
A few fshernens boats rocked idly beside
mossy old piers. Long reaches OF sand
showed here and there shining and brown,
like the backs Of huge marine monsters
Gulls wheeled lazily above. Land ana sea
fowl chartered in the circling marsh cages
or dug in the sand or ooze. Only TO the
north. through the rift between the head
lands. was there single sign OF life. On
the sapphire blue Of the Irish sea there
were two far white sails.
But I knew the ancient city lay behind
the huge headland, and quickening my
mace soon stood at it's sea face and us
highest activity. Here the highway tum-
bles into one Of the oldest old towns ID all
Europe.
There are pictures and pictures OF the
Bav OF Naples. But were / an artist,
would stake my hope Of renown on the
picture saw as stood above the bay and
ancient town of St. Ives. The bay itself
faces the north. At your feet are purple
heather and waving ferns parted from the
crystalline water by glistening sands. TO
the right and east the green hlllocks OF
the Eastern shore. Then the broad yell
low beach Of Porth-cockipg or the Fore
sand. Dominating this is the greet head
land of Pednolva. Beyond, cleaning like
a field Of gold, are the magnificent sands
Of Portminster, and farther still, the head
land and rocky islet Of Godfrey, with the
Iatter's white lighthouse setting cameolike
between the purple Of the seawalls and
the tremulous blue Of the ocean.
Before you, the silent shimmering bay,
with few white winged craft scarcely
moving, it seems, the distance is SO great
from the height where you stand; the
ocean beyond shining and blue and still;
rhythmic reaches of incoming tide waves,
miles in length, advancing and retreating
and breaking softly upon the shelving
sands in tiny ridges of sparkling spume,
and here, TO the west, great mass of jun
bled gray-old ST. Ives crouching in lit
tie pocket of rocks, like "A mass of messy
stone in some shadowy glen, sleeping away
the centuries, unconscious of the thunder
GUS sea.
One could almost hurl stone across
its crowded tiled roofs, and yet II houses
fully 1900 people. The streets are so mar
row, the pavements so meager, such queer
turns are made, such shadowy arcades are
penetrated that the surest footed stranger
pedestrian will meet many q bump and
bang in most careful descent.
Then, when you have reached something
Ike a level, you have simply increased
your difficulties All the lower thorough
fares are scarcely more than shadowy foot
Il riv
where 10 nowhere. This one, opening
promisingly, brings you squarely against
solid wall of rock. That one, in half
dozen PAGES, lands you upon fat roof,
from which You may easily step into the
harbor a hundred feet beneath. Another
winds about a single structure windowless
as a Tenth century fortress. Descending
another you find a nest of homes whose
roofs are the passageway Of a street above.
Dozens lead squarely into open doors Of
fishermen's homes. Many are like CALLER
les before others. Some wind through
houses where living rooms Of the same
house will be found at either side OF pub
lie passage.
And then in what odd hooks the little
shops will be found. There is not a single
street 100 yards in length where half
dozen shops are continuously located. Even
in these you must needs often ascend or
descend q story or more. The most are lit
orally hidden or perched in outlandish and
out Of the way spots, where if not stumbled
upon. one must repeatedly come with
guide or find rediscovery hopeless.
n you come at last through this laby-
ninth TO the water side you will gaze back
along the dormerS. penthouses and roofs
OF the strange old city, and up and on 10
its terraced heights with increased enthu-
siasm for It's rare quaintness and curious
aspects Tiny towers show here and there
as if outiutting from natural rock. Bits
of luxurant foliage and masses of vines
seem To spring from the roofs like rich
clumps of emerald moss. Spires and
wondrously high peaked roofs stand out
against the gray and green background
like spearheads OF unpublished steel Above
all, the handsome terraces and the grand
old heights, where once the beacon fires
were lighted.
Gray and old as is this Cornish fisher
town, but two bits Of extreme antiquity re
main. just in the rear Of the White Hart
inn by the wharfside is a huge pile Of
greenish slate rock Built upon this rock
which forms its basement, is tiny ancient
structure known as earn Glaze house. 1t
was the stronghold of smuggling, free
booting family in Queen Anne's time, and
the myriad weird fisher and seafaring
legends OF st. Ives have nearly all had
their origin in or bear some reference 10
this grewsome old structure
The parish church, built straight above