emigrant Irish are educated at the free public schools, rise to a higher sphere of labour than their parents, in many instances become Protestants, and then freely mingle with the rest of the community as thoroughly Americanised citizens. Many of the most eminent American statesmen, scholars, and merchants have been the children of emigrants, or have come from the generation next succeeding the native Irish generation. Presidents Jackson and Buchanan were sons of Irish parents; so was Vice-President Calhoun, one of the greatest of American orators. A. T. Stewart, the merchant prince of New York, was a native of Belfast, James T. Brady, foremost of criminal advocates in New York; Meagher, the general and writer; were Irish. This proves that the boast of Americans, that their country offers its prizes to all who will compete for them, is not unfounded; it also proves that there are characteristics, even among the poor classes of Irish who are driven to emigration for existence, which are capable of development into the power of leading men, and into a high influence upon the age.
As the Crow Flies.
Due West.Penryn to the Land's End.
A flight on to Penryn, that beautiful town on a ridge sloping down to a branch of Falmouth harbour, and facing the wooded slope on which stands the church of St. Gluvias, embedded among trees. North of the town is the farm of Bohethland, the scene of that truly pathetic tragedy which Lillo, the London goldsmith, who wrote immortal "George Barnwell" dramatised.
The story of the Fatal Curiosity is this. In the reign of James the First, the scapegrace son of a well-to-do man of Penryn turned bad, went to sea, and became first a terror to the Spaniards, like Drake and Raleigh, then, by an easy slide downward, a pirate. Fifteen years passed, and the father and mother getting poorer and poorer, retired to Bohethland farm. In the meanwhile the son had gone through fire and water. Off Rhodes his vessel had caught fire while attacking a Turkish ship, and he had saved himself by swimming. Some jewels he preserved were, however, recognised as belonging to a Turkish pasha, who had been robbed at sea, and the sailor was instantly hurried to the galleys. He escaped, and in an English vessel reached London, whence he embarked again as a doctor's servant, went to the East Indies, saved money, returned to England, and on his way from London to Cornwall was wrecked upon his native shore. He went straight to Penryn, carrying a large sum of money in a bow case. He revealed himself to his sister who had married a mercer, and arranged to walk as a beggar to Bohethland, see his father and mother, and enjoy the luxury of that pleasure till next day, when the sister and her husband should join him and share the joy of the discovery and recognition. The man accordingly went, and passing as a poor shipwrecked sailor, was permitted to lie down in the barn. He was shown his bed in the stable, and then gave his mother a piece of gold to pay for his lodging, showed her the bow-case belt that he carried under his rags, and blessed her secretly as she closed the door and left him to dream of the happy morrow. But the desire of gold had fired the woman's mind. She went straight to her husband, assured him of the beggar's wealth, overcame his scruples, urged the glories of a fortune, and dragged him, knife in hand, to murder the sleeping stranger who was dreaming of them. On the following day the sister and her husband came with smiling faces and inquired for the sailor. The old people denied having seen him. The daughter then burst out with the truth, and as a proof told the mother of a well-known mark on his arm that she had recognised. The father rushed to the barn, recognised the mark, and slew himself there with the knife that had wrought the murder. The maddened mother also destroyed herself, and the daughter soon after died of a broken heart. Surely only the story of Œdipus can equal the pathos of this Cornish tragedy.
Falmouth, close to Penryn, consisted only of two houses in Leland's time, Arwenak, the Killigrews' mansion, and Pendennis castle, on the point facing Trefusis. Sir Walter Raleigh, landing in the beautiful haven, on his return from the fatal expedition to the coast of Guinea, was struck with the advantage of the noble harbour, with the entrance a mile wide, and represented it to the council. The village of Penny-come-quick soon arose. In 1652 the custom-house was removed to it from Penryn. In 1660 the place was named Falmouth by royal proclamation; and in 1661 it received its charter. Pendennis castle, that crowns with its grey walls the western bluff, was erected in the reign of Henry the Eighth. The governor (eighty-seven years old) held it for six months, till starved out, against the enraged Parliament. This was the last place, indeed, except Raglan castle, that stood out for the miserable Stuarts. The Killigrews nobly burned down Arwenak during this siege, to prevent the Parliament generals having quarter there for their troops. The last male Killigrew was killed in a duel at Penryn, and the property went to Lord Wodehouse. There is a good story told of one of the Killigrews of Arwenak, Lady Jane, in Elizabeth's time, and it shows the current feeling against the Spaniards which the lives of Drake and Raleigh illustrated, yet which it is now so difficult to excuse. This energetic lady and her retainers boarded two Hans Town vessels, with Spanish wealth in their holds, that had ventured between St. Anthony and the Manacles, murdered the innocent Spanish factors, and carried off with glee two hogsheads full of shining pieces of eight. The legality of this seizure was not sufficiently appreciated; the whole party were hung, except the originator, Lady Jane Killigrew, who was first reprieved and then
