Morwenna's Well.[1] But what was the wanderer's guidance along the bleak, unpeopled surface of these Cornish moors? The wayside cross. Such were the crosses of St. James and St. John, which even yet give name to their ancient sites in Morwenstow, and proclaim to the traveller that, or ever a church was reared or an altar hallowed here, the trophy of old Syria stood in solemn stone, a beacon to the wayfaring man, and that the soldiers of God's army had won their honours among the unbaptised and barbarous people!
Here, then, let us stand and survey the earliest scenery of pagan Morwenstow. Before us lies a breadth of wild and rocky land; it is bounded by the billowy Atlantic, with its arm of waters, and by the slow lapse of that gliding stream of which the Keltic proverb said, before King Arthur's day,—
"Let Uter Pendragon do what he can,
The Tamar water will run as it ran."
Barrows curve above the dead; a stony cross stands by a mossed and lichened well; here and there glides a shorn and vested monk, whose function it was, often at peril of life and limb, to sprinkle the brow of some hard-won votary,
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"If, traveller, thy happy spirit know
That awful Fount whence living waters flow,
Then hither come to draw : thy feet have found
Amidst these rocks a place of holy ground."
The Well of St. Morwenna.
