Writings of Cornwall
Touching the temperature of this Country, the air thereof is cleasnsed as with Bellowes, by the Bellowes that ever work from off her environing Seas where thorow it becometh pure and subtle and is made thereby very healthful, but withall so piercing and sharp that is apter to preserve than to recover health. The Spring in not so early as in more Eastern parts, yet the Summer with a temperatel heat recompenseth, in slow fostering of the fruits with their most kindly ripening.
The Autumne bringeth a Somewhat late Harvest; and the Winter, by reason of the Sea’s warm breath, maketh the cold milder than elsewhere. Not withstanding that Country is much subject to stormy blasts, whose violence hath freedom from the open waves to beat upon the dwellers at Land, leaving many times their houses uncovered.
The Soyl for the most part is lifted up into many hills, parted asunder with narrow and short valleys, and a shallow earth doth cover their outside which by a Seaweed called Oreweed, and a certain kind of fruitful Sea-sand they make so rank and fertile as is incredible.
John Norden. A topographical and historical discription of Cornwall. c. 1584.
Remedy For Wrinkles and Complexion
To take away wrinkles throw a handful of myrrh into an iron shovel, red hot, and snuff up the steam two or three times a day.
Use Carmine for the complexion. Rub the face in the morn over with a little brandy mixed with rose water of which you make take any quantity you please.
Pocket Diary of Grace Tremayne 1774 Graham Latham. Trebartha
The Cornish Arms Hotel
The Cornish Arms Hotel down on West 23rd Street in Manhattan, New York was a place where most Cornish stopped before going to other parts of the United States to find work. My daughter, Susan moved to New York City after college in 1972. She lived on West 23rd Street not far from the Cornish Arms, but it is no longer a hotel.
I was told by cousin Gordon Haslett of Tampa, Florida that his family owned some stock in the hotel at one time ‚ so you see this landmark has connections to most Cornish families who came to the U.S. in the mid-to-late 1800s.
I LOATHE, abhor detest, despise,
Abominate dried-apple pies.
I like good bread, I like good meat,
Or anything that’s fit to eat;
But of all poor grub beneath the skies,
The poorest is dried apple pies.
Give me the toothsche, or sore eyes,
But don’t give me dried apple pies.
The farmer takes his gnarliest fruit,
‘Tis wormy, bitter, and hard, to boot;
He leaves the hulls to make us cough,
And don’t take half the peeling off.
Then on a dirty cord ’tis strung
And in a garret window hung,
And there it serves as roost for flies,
Until it’s made up into pies.
Tread on my corns, or tell me lies,
But don’t pass me dried-apple pies.