CHAPTER V.

The Inhabitants of Morwenstow in 1834.-Cruel Coppinger.—Whips the Parson of Kilkhampton. — Gives Tom Tape a Ride. — Tristam Pentire. Parminter and his Dog Satan. - The Gauger's Pocket. - Wrecking. — The Wrecker and the Ravens.-The Loss of the "Margaret Quail." -The Wreck of the" Ben Coolan."-" A Croon on Hennacliff."- Letters concerning Wrecks. The Donkeys and the Copper Ore. - The Ship "Morwenna."- Flotsam and Jetsam. - Wrecks on Nov. 14, 1875. — Bodies in Poundstock Church. The Loss of the "Caledonia.” — The Wreck of the "Phoenix" and of the "Alonzo."

WHEN the Rev. R. S. Hawker came to Morwenstow in 1834, he found that he had much to contend with, not only in the external condition of church and vicarage, but also in that which is of greater importance.

A writer in the "John Bull" says, "He found a manse in ruins, and partly used as a barn; a parish peopled with wreckers, smugglers, and Dissenting Bryanites; and a venerable church, deserted and ill cared for, amidst a heap of weeds and nettles. Desolate as was the situation of the gray old sanctuary and tower, standing out upon the rugged incline that shelves down a descent of three hundred feet to the beach, it was not more barren of external comfort than was the internal state of those who had been confided to his pastoral care.

"The farmers of the parish were simple-hearted and respectable; but the denizens of the hamlet, after receiving the wages of the harvest time, eked out a precarious existence in the winter, and watched eagerly and expectantly for the shipwrecks that were certain to happen, and upon the plunder of which they surely calculated for the scant provision of their families. The wrecked goods supplied them with the necessaries of life, and the rended planks of the dismembered vessel contributed to the warmth of the hovel hearthstone.

"When Mr. Hawker came to Morwenstow, 'the cruel and covetous natives of the strand, the wreckers of the seas and rocks for flotsam and jetsam,' held as an axiom and an injunction to be strictly obeyed

"Save a stranger from the sea,
And he'll turn your enemy!"

"The Morwenstow wreckers allowed a fainting brother to perish in the sea before their eyes without extending a hand of safety, — nay, more, for the egotistical canons of a shipwreck, superstitiously obeyed, permitted and absolved the crime of murder by 'shoving the drowning man into the sea,' to be swallowed by the waves. Cain! Cain! where is thy brother? And the wrecker of Morwenstow answered and pleaded in excuse, as in the case of undiluted brandy after meals, 'It is Cornish custom.' The illicit spirit of Cornish custom was supplied by the smuggler, and the gold of the wreck paid him for the cursed abomination of drink."

One of Mr. Hawker's parishioners, Peter Barrow,*

had been, for full forty years, a wrecker, but of a much more harmless description: he had been a watcher of the coast for such objects as the waves might turn up to reward his patience. Another was Tristam Pentire,* a hero of contraband adventure, and agent for sale of smuggled cargoes in bygone times. With a merry twinkle of the eye, and in a sharp and ringing tone, he loved to tell such tales of wild adventure, and of "derring do," as would make the foot of the exciseman falter, and his cheek turn pale.

During the latter years of last century there lived in Wellcombe one of Mr. Hawker's parishes, a man whose name is still remembered with terror, - Cruel Coppinger. There are people still alive who remember his wife.

Local recollections of the man have moulded them selves into the rhyme,

"Will you hear of Cruel Coppinger?

He came from a foreign land:

He was brought to us by the salt water,

He was carried away by the wind!"

His arrival on the north coast of Cornwall was sig nalized by a terrific hurricane. The storm came up Channel from the south-west. A strange vessel of foreign rig went on the reefs of Harty Race, and was broken to pieces by the waves. The only man who came ashore was the skipper. A crowd was gathered on the sand, on horseback and on foot, women as well as men, drawn together by the tidings of a probable wreck. Into their midst rushed the dripping stran

ger, and bounded suddenly upon the crupper of a young damsel who had ridden to the beach to see the sight. He grasped her bridle, and, shouting in some foreign tongue, urged the double-laden animal into full speed, and the horse naturally took his homeward way. The damsel was Miss Dinah Hamlyn.. The stranger descended at her father's door, and lifted her off her saddle. He then announced himself as a Dane, named Coppinger. He took his place at the family board, and there remained till he had secured the affections and hand of Dinah. The father died, and Coppinger at once succeeded to the management and control of the house, which thenceforth became a den and refuge of every lawless character along the coast. All kinds of wild uproar and reckless revelry appalled the neighborhood day and night. It was discovered that an organized band of smugglers, wreckers, and poachers made this house their rendezvous, and that “Cruel Coppinger" was their captain. In those days, and in that far-away region, the peaceable inhabitants were unprotected. There was not a single resident gentleman of property and weight in the entire district. No revenue officer durst exercise vigilance west of the Tamar; and, to put an end to all such surveillance at once, the head of a gauger was chopped off by one of Coppinger's gang, on the gunwale of a boat.

Strange vessels began to appear at regular intervals on the coast, and signals were flashed from the headlands to lead them into the safest creek or cove. Amongst these vessels, one, a full-rigged schooner, soon became ominously conspicuous. She was for

long the chief terror of the Cornish Channel. Her name was "The Black Prince." Once, with Coppinger on board, she led a revenue-cutter into an intricate channel near the Bull Rock, where, from knowledge of the bearings, "The Black Prince" escaped scathless, while the king's vessel perished with all on board. In those times, if any landsman became obnoxious to Coppinger's men, he was seized, and carried on board "The Black Prince," and obliged to save his life by enrolling himself in the crew. In 1835 an old man, of the age of ninety-seven, related to Mr. Hawker that he had been so abducted, and after two years' service had been ransomed by his friends with a large sum. "And all," said the old man very simply, "because I happened to see one man kill another, and they thought I would mention it." Amid such practices, ill-gotten gold began to flow and ebb in the hands of Coppinger. At one time he had enough money to purchase a freehold farm bordering on the sea. When the day of transfer came, he and one of his followers appeared before the lawyer, and paid the money in dollars, ducats, doubloons, and pistols. The man of law demurred, but Coppinger with an oath bade him take this or none. The document bearing Coppinger's name is still His signature is traced in stern, bold characters, and under his autograph is the word "Thuro" (thorough) also in his own handwriting.

extant.

Long impunity increased Coppinger's daring. There were certain bridle-roads along the fields over which he exercised exclusive control. He issued orders that no man was to pass over them by night,