Cornish Riviera Holidays

Cornish Riviera Holidays Est in 1984, we are a family run, St Ives based agency that are local, friendly and trusted.

We manage a fine selection of over 70 fisherman's cottages and harbour-side flats all in the heart of St.Ives with its sandy beaches, picturesque harbour and town full of quaint cottages and cobbled courtyards, restaurants, shops and galleries. The beautiful St.Ives bay benefits from a mild climate and can be enjoyed all year round.

The GuildhallThe Guildhall in St Ives occupies an important place in the history of the town. Its story reflects the way...
12/09/2026

The Guildhall
The Guildhall in St Ives occupies an important place in the history of the town. Its story reflects the way St Ives has changed from a medieval fishing community into a busy centre of commerce, civic life, art and culture.
The present Guildhall on Street an Pol was completed in 1939, but its story reaches much further back. Its history connects the modern building with the medieval Guildhall, the Market House and the changing civic life of the town.
The original Guildhall stood in the area now occupied by the Market House, outside the Church of St Ia. It dates from around 1490 and was the centre for the town's civic and commercial life at a time when St Ives was largely a fishing and maritime community. The building became connected with some of the most turbulent events in Cornish history. During the Prayer Book Rebellion of 1549, St Ives became involved in the wider uprising against the religious changes introduced during the reign of Edward VI. John Payne, the town's portreeve, was one of the leading local figures associated with the rebellion. When the uprising was defeated, he was arrested and executed in the Market Place, close to the Guildhall.
The old Guildhall survived for more than 300 years. By the 1820s, however, it had become outdated and was demolished. A new Market House was built on the site in 1832. The new building had several purposes. There was a market, a lock up for prisoners and an assembly room. The room above was used for civic meetings and later as a courthouse. In other words, the Market House continued the site's long connection with both commerce and local government.
The site of today's Guildhall has its own fascinating earlier history. Before the present Guildhall was built, the site was occupied by a Georgian mansion known as The Retreat. It was first associated with the Anthony family and later with the Lanham family. Artists had already been coming to the town during the nineteenth century, attracted by the scenery, the sea and the quality of the light. James Lanham established an art gallery at The Retreat, helping to lay the foundations for St Ives' later reputation as an artists' colony.
By the early twentieth century, St Ives had grown considerably and the Borough Council was finding its existing accommodation increasingly unsuitable. Its offices were spread across several buildings, including an old cottage on a small plot between The Retreat and the Vicarage. It was clear that the town needed a proper civic building, and plans were made for a new purpose-built Guildhall on Street an Pol. Local architect Geoffrey B Drewitt was chosen to design it, producing a building in the Neoclassical style, a style that was popular for British civic buildings at the time. The new Guildhall was completed in 1939, although the first council meeting did not take place there until 16 December 1940. Even today, some of the original character of the building can be seen as soon as you enter, with a fine 1930s terrazzo floor and staircase adding a touch of period style to the entrance.
Like many Neoclassical buildings, the Guildhall was designed around symmetry and proportion. Its original front had a central entrance reached by wide sweeping steps, flanked by elegant curved parapets, with a balcony and regular rows of windows above. The carefully cut stone gave the building a strong, formal appearance, with very little decoration. Instead, its character came from the shape of the building, the balance of its proportions and the solid quality of the stone. Sadly, this original appearance was altered when Cornwall Council removed one of the curved parapets and redesigned the steps to the entrance to make way for a much-needed accessibility ramp. In doing so, the foundation stone was buried beneath the new concrete. While the need for better access was welcomed, many people felt that the rather stark, functional design of the ramp was at odds with the elegance of the original building, and that a more sympathetic solution could have been found.
The choice of Neoclassical design is also interesting because the Guildhall was built in 1939, at a time when Modernism and Art Deco were already changing the look of British towns and cities. Classical architecture remained popular for civic buildings because it conveyed ideas of order, stability and permanence. The Guildhall therefore looked back to a much older tradition of public architecture, even as the modern world was changing around it. The contrast can still be seen nearby in the Royal Cinema, which also opened in 1939 but adopted the fashionable Art Deco style, with its emphasis on modern entertainment, movement and new technology. The Guildhall, by comparison, presented a much more traditional image of civic life, making the two buildings an interesting reflection of the different sides of St Ives at the end of the 1930s.
This was happening in a town that was also beginning to develop an international reputation for modern art.
The Guildhall was never intended to be just a council building. At the front were the council chamber, Mayor's Parlour, rates office and offices for council staff, while at the rear was a large auditorium designed for concerts, meetings and public events. From the beginning, the building brought civic administration and community life together under one roof. Opening its doors during the Second World War, the hall quickly became an important meeting place for local people, hosting dances, concerts, meetings and performances, social events that have remained an important part of the building's story. For much of the twentieth century, the Guildhall was the seat of St Ives Borough Council, but this changed in 1974 when local government was reorganised and St Ives ceased to be an independent borough, becoming part of the new Penwith District Council area. The Guildhall was no longer the main centre of local government for the wider district, although it continued to play an important role in the town. Over time, its focus shifted increasingly towards culture, entertainment and community life, with the auditorium becoming a venue for music, theatre, comedy, dancing, markets and local gatherings. It also became closely associated with the St Ives September Festival, which began in 1978, following its initial development in 1977, and grew into one of the town's best known cultural events.
The Guildhall's connection with art seems particularly fitting given the story of St Ives itself. During the twentieth century, the town became known around the world for artists such as Barbara Hepworth and Ben Nicholson, along with many others who helped shape the St Ives art scene and change the way the town was seen. The Guildhall has its own links to this history, with works connected to local artists including Robert Borlase Smart and Mary McCrossan inside the building, while outside stands Barbara Hepworth's bronze sculpture Dual Form, unveiled in 1966. It is an interesting contrast, the Guildhall's formal architecture belongs to an older tradition of civic buildings, while the art found within and around it connects the building to the bold and experimental artistic culture that made St Ives famous. In many ways, the Guildhall brings these two worlds together, the traditional civic life of St Ives and the modern St Ives a centre for British art.
Following the changes to local government in the 1970s, ownership of the Guildhall passed first to Penwith District Council then later to Cornwall Council. Today, following Cornwall Council's programme of devolving community assets, the Guildhall is once again owned and managed by St Ives Town Council. Its role has changed considerably since 1939, but its basic purpose remains much the same, it is still a place where people can meet, take part in community life, enjoy entertainment and, in the upper rooms, carry out the business of the town council. The building is now undergoing a major programme of renovation, aimed at securing its future while making it more accessible and better suited to modern audiences. The work includes improvements to seating, accessibility, technical and performance facilities, entrances, the foyer and other public spaces, while retaining as much of the building's original character as possible. The work has not been without its challenges, and some changes have had to be made along the way. Most noticeably, the remaining curved parapet at the front of the building has had to be removed as part of the works, leaving nothing of the Guildhall's original sweeping entrance stair. The hope is that, once the work is complete, the Guildhall will once again become a much loved and well used part of St Ives, with the Town Council currently expecting the renewed building to reopen in early 2027.

Photos: The Guildhall and the Market House

John Smeaton in St IvesEngineer John Smeaton, who is perhaps best known for Smeaton’s Tower, the iconic lighthouse which...
10/09/2026

John Smeaton in St Ives
Engineer John Smeaton, who is perhaps best known for Smeaton’s Tower, the iconic lighthouse which now stands on Plymouth Hoe, is also associated with St Ives through the pier that bears his name. His contribution to the town, however, was much more significant than the pier alone. During the 1760s and 1770s, Smeaton became involved in improving both the harbour and the coastline around Porthmeor, tackling two major problems facing St Ives: the exposed harbour and the constant movement of sand from Porthmeor Beach. At the time, St Ives was an important fishing and trading port, with an economy heavily dependent on fishing, particularly the pilchard industry, while the harbour also handled goods connected with the area’s wider commercial and mining economy. The town’s prosperity depended on having a safe and usable harbour, yet the harbour was exposed to the sea and the sands of Porthmeor could be blown into the town and harbour. It was against this difficult background that Smeaton brought his practical approach, dealing not with one isolated problem, but with the wider needs of a busy fishing harbour and commercial port. The harbour had ancient origins, but by the eighteenth century its earlier pier and quay had deteriorated, while the growing fishing and trading industries placed ever-greater demands on the harbour.

Smeaton was asked to examine the problems and advise on improvements. His principal contribution was the design of a new pier on the north-eastern side of the harbour. It was built between 1767 and 1770 and became known as Smeaton’s Pier. The pier was designed to act as a breakwater, protecting the harbour from the sea and creating safer conditions for vessels, with a vertical inner face allowing boats to tie up alongside. This was an important feature, as the pier was not simply intended as a breakwater, but also as a working pier where boats could be sheltered and handled. This mattered greatly to St Ives, where the fishing industry depended on large numbers of boats coming and going. A well-protected harbour meant safer conditions for fishermen and improved facilities for bringing fish ashore.

The pier was built from granite, a considerable undertaking at a time when moving heavy materials overland in Penwith was difficult, so much of the stone was brought by sea. Smeaton’s original pier was considerably shorter than the structure we see today, ending roughly where the older granite lighthouse now stands, about halfway along the present pier. This lighthouse was built in 1830–31, after Smeaton’s work, and when the pier was extended between 1888 and 1890, a second iron lighthouse was added at the new outer end. The original lighthouse was retained, giving Smeaton’s Pier its distinctive appearance and making St Ives notable for having two lighthouses on the same pier. The later extension also included the addition of three arches near the landward end, designed to allow seawater to circulate and help sluice away the build-up of sand in the harbour.

The harbour was only part of the problem facing St Ives. The town’s location on the isthmus that connects the island to Barnoon also created other difficulties, particularly with Porthmeor Beach, the long sandy beach to the north-west of the town, is exposed to the strong winds blowing off the Celtic Sea. Before the later eighteenth century, the land along the beach was only lightly developed, partly because of the amount of sand blown inland. The area was nevertheless important, with fishermen using it to dry and repair nets, make and lay out ropes, and carry out other work connected with fishing. The movement of sand was more than an inconvenience, as it could cover land, build up against buildings and find its way into the harbour. Smeaton therefore looked at the harbour and surrounding coastline as part of the same problem, and his work in St Ives included proposals for a substantial sea wall along Porthmeor Beach. Research places the construction of the wall between about 1762 and 1782.

The wall provided a barrier between the beach and the land behind it, helping to control the movement of sand and making the town more secure. The danger was not simply theoretical. In earlier centuries, drifting sand had caused serious problems elsewhere on St Ives Bay. During the medieval period, Lelant was the main port on the bay, but the town was virtually destroyed by windblown sand. Houses and land were lost to the encroaching dunes, and the port and most of the town were overwhelmed. The settlement began to drift ever southwest to its current location, and by 1679 the church of St Uny had partially collapsed under the weight of drifting sand. The experience of Lelant helps explain why controlling the sand at Porthmeor was so important, as St Ives did not want to suffer the same fate. Today, the Porthmeor sea wall is lost and easily overlooked because Smeaton’s Pier is the more obvious reminder of his involvement with the town, yet the wall was just as important to the development of St Ives. Its significance becomes clearer when we look at what happened in the years that followed.

Once the shoreline was secured, the area behind the beach became suitable for development, and during the early nineteenth century St Ives began to expand into this area with gusto. At this time, fishing was becoming more commercial and the growing pilchard industry created a need for buildings where fish could be processed and stored, nets made and repaired, and the many trades connected with fishing could be carried out. A busy industrial area developed along Porthmeor towards the Island; this area became known as Downalong. It was filled with fish cellars, bulking houses, pilchard presses, net lofts, rope works, cooperages and other buildings. Streets of fishermen’s houses also appeared. The speed of development reflects just how important fishing was to St Ives.

However, it is important to note that the wall did not eliminate the problem of the wandering sand. Even today, when the wind blows onto Porthmeor, and particularly during the winter storms, sand continues to find its way into Back Road East, The Digey and the Meadow. Once a year, at the end of winter, the council has to use excavators to remove the sand that has built up against the wall.

For the people of eighteenth-century St Ives, Smeaton’s Pier was practical and necessary, protecting the harbour, improving conditions for boats and providing better facilities for the fishing and trading . His work at Porthmeor also became part of the town’s later development, with parts of the sea wall incorporated into Pilchard Cellars. The wall became both a foundation of the buildings that began to appear on the site , and the northern boundry of the town in the early nineteenth century.

By the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, as the fishing industry was beginning to decline, the buildings at Porthmeor acquired a new role and, quite unintentionally, Smeaton helped with the development of the St Ives artistic movement. Some of the old net lofts and other buildings were taken over by artists and converted into studios. Although later development has altered parts of the area, much of this historic fabric survives. The artists could hardly have been further removed from Smeaton’s original concerns. He was trying to control the coastline, protect the harbour and support a working port, yet the landscape he helped create eventually shaped the character of St Ives.

John Smeaton’s contribution to St Ives was far greater than the pier bearing his name might suggest. His work helped tackle two of the town’s biggest problems: protecting the harbour and controlling the movement of sand. His pier still protects the harbour and, complete with its pair of lighthouses, has become one of the most easily recognisable vistas in the UK.

Fogous, West Cornwall’s Greatest MysteryA fogou is one of the most mysterious forms of ancient monument found in Cornwal...
05/09/2026

Fogous, West Cornwall’s Greatest Mystery

A fogou is one of the most mysterious forms of ancient monument found in Cornwall. The word comes from the Cornish ogo, meaning ‘cave’, and is used to describe carefully constructed underground passages and chambers built from stone.Fogous are found predominantly in the far west of Cornwall, mainly in Penwith and the area around the upper Helford, with examples further afield, including one in mid-Cornwall and one on St Mary’s in the Isles of Scilly. They are associated with settlements dating from the Iron Age onwards.

Their exact purpose remains uncertain. Archaeologists have suggested that they may have been used for storage, food preservation, shelter or refuge, or may have had ritual or ceremonial functions. None of these interpretations can be proven. It is quite possible that their uses varied from settlement to settlement, and that a structure originally built for one purpose was later used for another.Unlike a church, house or mine, a fogou does not announce its function clearly. Its very secrecy is part of what makes these structures so fascinating.

The temptation to interpret fogous as defensive structures is understandable. They are concealed, underground spaces, often incorporated into settlements or their boundaries, and some contain narrow passages and restricted entrances. In societies without permanent state institutions such as police, protecting livestock and wealth would presumably have been an important concern. If communities were exposed to occasional raiding or theft, a concealed underground chamber could potentially have provided a place of refuge or a secure location for valuables.

However, there is a big difference between saying that a fogou could have provided refuge and claiming that it was specifically built as a military structure or ‘war shelter’. The evidence simply does not allow us to make that conclusion with confidence. Their architecture is too varied, and there is no single feature that proves a defensive purpose. A fogou may have provided security, but security does not necessarily imply warfare. Concealing food, tools, valuables or other possessions, or providing a temporary refuge during periods of danger, are all possibilities that do not require organised military conflict.

The argument for defensive use becomes particularly interesting when the wider archaeological evidence from Penwith and the surrounding areas is considered. There is very little evidence for sustained inter-community warfare. Sling stones were found at Chun Castle, for example, but by themselves they cannot demonstrate that a battle or attack took place there. West Cornwall has no known large Iron Age battlefield, and no mass graves of combatants have ever been found. Neither has anyone found evidence of destruction layers, concentrations of weapons or clearly identifiable attack damage demonstrating that a settlement was destroyed by a hostile force.

The absence of such evidence does not prove that warfare never occurred. Archaeology rarely allows such absolute conclusions. It is reasonable to suggest that the local population may have engaged in livestock raids and may have had the occasional boundary dispute with their neighbours. However, my understanding is that Penwith did not support the sort of population numbers that would have made large-scale warfare particularly practical.

The concentration of fogous in Penwith may also tell us something about the connections between the communities that built them. Rather than representing completely separate and competing groups, they may have shared cultural traditions and ideas about how settlements and underground spaces should be constructed and used. If that is the case, it becomes harder to argue that Iron Age West Cornwall was so accustomed to large-scale conflict between organised tribal groups that complex defensive structures were routinely required.

That, however, is my own interpretation rather than something that can be demonstrated archaeologically.

If conflict did occur, it may have taken other forms, and this is where the distinction between warfare and raiding is important. A livestock raid or small-scale attack could leave very little permanent archaeological evidence. A group could arrive, seize animals or goods, threaten or injure inhabitants and leave without causing deaths or destroying a settlement. Even a violent confrontation might leave little behind, perhaps, if we are lucky, a broken weapon, a damaged object or, in the rarest and most extreme case, an identifiable battlefield death. Raiding therefore provides a plausible context in which to consider some of the security characteristics associated with fogous.

Livestock was an important form of wealth, while the scattered nature of settlements in Penwith and the demands of agricultural production would have made animals a valuable resource vulnerable to theft. In such a society, secure storage, concealed spaces and settlement boundaries could have been valuable even in the absence of sustained warfare.

The physical construction of fogous is also significant. These were highly engineered underground structures, generally constructed from drystone walls roofed with large slabs of local stone. Some are narrow passages, while others develop into much larger chambers. Several contain side passages, commonly described as ‘creeps’, which can be extremely confined. The labour and planning required to construct them suggest that they had an important role within the communities that built them. They were certainly not incidental features of ordinary domestic architecture.

Their regional distribution is equally important. Fogous are found predominantly in Penwith and around the upper Helford. Their concentration suggests that they formed part of a distinctive regional architectural tradition. This does not necessarily mean that all fogous had the same function, but it does suggest that communities in western Cornwall shared ideas about the construction and use of such spaces.

Carn Euny provides perhaps the clearest example of the complexity of fogous. Its settlement developed from the Iron Age, and its unusually elaborate underground complex contains an earlier circular chamber with a corbelled roof and a later passage leading into it. There is also a small recess within the chamber.
Its position within a substantial settlement of houses, boundaries and agricultural infrastructure suggests that it should be considered as part of the wider organisation of the community rather than as an isolated underground monument.

Boleigh and Halliggye provide similar associations between fogous and enclosed settlements with substantial boundary works, while Pendeen Vau demonstrates the deliberate control of movement through its subterranean passage and between the underground structure and the surface. Taken together, these examples show that fogous were carefully planned and integrated into their settlements. Concealment, restricted access and the protection of people or possessions may all have been important, but so too may storage, refuge, ritual or other specialised functions.

The narrow ‘creeps’ found in some fogous are particularly intriguing. Their restricted dimensions would make them unsuitable for moving large quantities of goods or for normal domestic movement, particularly with livestock. They could have controlled access to the underground space and made it difficult for an outsider to enter. Nevertheless, there is no compelling evidence that these passages were specifically designed as defensive choke points. Their unusual form could equally have had practical, symbolic or ritual significance.

We know very little about Iron Age British beliefs. Much of the written evidence we have comes from Roman authors who, let’s be honest, had their own reasons for portraying the peoples they encountered as savage or barbaric. Those accounts need to be treated with some caution and understood within that context.
For that reason, a ritual interpretation of fogous is worth taking seriously. The underground environment was fundamentally different from ordinary domestic space. Darkness, restricted access, carefully constructed stonework and separation from the surface could have created an unusual and otherworldly environment.

At Carn Euny, the more elaborate subterranean chamber is particularly difficult to explain in purely practical or military terms. Some fogous may have had symbolic or ritual functions involving particular individuals, objects or ceremonies. If so, their association with settlement boundaries may have been social or symbolic.

The possibility of multiple functions may ultimately be the best approach. It is unlikely that every fogou was constructed for exactly the same purpose. Their forms differ, their settlement contexts differ, and some appear to have been modified over time.

What is perhaps most interesting is what this tells us about the communities themselves. The construction of these underground spaces required planning, labour and social organisation. Their presence within or alongside settlements also suggests that the people who built them were thinking carefully about how space was organised and used. This does not point towards a society constantly living in fear of war. It may simply suggest that storing food, tools and other valuable possessions were normal concerns of everyday life, just as they are today.

The wider evidence from the Penwith landscape would seem to support that interpretation. Iron Age West Cornwall was not simply a collection of isolated farms. Settlements were organised within boundaries and formed part of a wider social and political landscape. Communities had the time, manpower and resources to invest in substantial architecture. My own reading of the evidence points more towards a landscape of connected local communities, rather than one of fractured, constantly competing settlements. Raiding, livestock theft, feuds and small-scale violence may well have taken place, but large-scale conflict remains much harder to show.

Fogous cannot resolve the question on their own, but they add an intriguing dimension to the picture. They show that Iron Age communities in western Cornwall were prepared to create substantial spaces that were deliberately concealed from the surface and, in some cases, difficult to access. Whether that was about protection, storage, refuge, ritual or some combination of these remains unknown.

Ultimately, the fogous remain enigmatic because their builders left no written explanation of their purpose. Perhaps that ambiguity is precisely what makes them so intriguing. Rather than providing a simple answer, they raise far more questions about the people who built them, what they valued, what they feared and how they understood the world around them.

Image created with AI.

Two Hills of PenwithThere are several prominent hills around the St Ives area. These include Worvas, more commonly known...
03/09/2026

Two Hills of Penwith
There are several prominent hills around the St Ives area. These include Worvas, more commonly known as The Steeple, Rosewall, Trevalgan, Trink and Trencrom. Today, we're going to focus on just two.
Trencrom and Trink stand close together between Lelant and Nancledra, but they each have a very different character. Both are part of the Penwith outcrop of the Cornubian Batholith, the vast granite intrusion that forms the geological foundation of Cornwall and much of Devon.
Trencrom is dominated by its dramatic summit and substantial prehistoric enclosure, while nearby Trink is broader and higher, with a Bronze Age round barrow and a standing stone. Both hills have distinctive granite outcrops and evidence of 18th and 19th-century mining. As prominent landmarks in the eastern Penwith landscape, Trencrom and Trink preserve evidence of human activity stretching back thousands of years, from prehistoric monuments and later settlement to industrial activity, alongside granite features that have become part of local folklore.
At Trencrom, large granite outcrops, or tors, occur around the summit that were incorporated into a prehistoric enclosure. The rampart closely follows the contours of the summit. Trencrom rises to around 175 metres above sea level. Its position and steep eastern flank make it highly conspicuous and easy to recognise, particularly when travelling from the east into Penwith.
The summit gives some fantastic views across the surrounding countryside. Looking north, you can see St Ives Bay. To the south are St Michael's Mount and the wide sweep of Mount's Bay. The Hayle Estuary and central Cornwall stretch away to the east, while the granite hills of Penwith continue westwards. Its position, as the first prominent hill encountered when approaching Penwith from the east, clearly made Trencrom an important landmark. Whether the enclosure was intended to make a claim over the surrounding landscape, however, is hard to say.
Human activity at Trencrom began long before the prehistoric enclosure was built. Mesolithic flint artefacts have been found on the hill, including several microliths, while Neolithic finds include numerous worked flints and stone axes. The summit enclosure is generally considered to be Neolithic in origin, dating to around 3700 to 3500 BC. It covers just under a hectare and is surrounded by a substantial stone and earth rampart, which incorporates the tors. The entrances on the eastern and western sides are marked by large granite monoliths and approached by hollow ways.
The original purpose of the enclosure is uncertain. It has sometimes been described as a Neolithic hillfort, although that can give the misleading impression that it was simply a defensive structure. The enclosure may have had several purposes, including settlement, ritual activity, social organisation or the marking of territory. We simply can't know for certain what people intended when they built it. What is clear is that the construction of the enclosure gave an already prominent hill an impressive human monument.
Trink stands next door to Trencrom, but couldn’t be any more different from its neighbour. At approximately 212 metres, it is considerably higher than Trencrom, with a broad and rounded summit rather than a narrow, rocky one. A prehistoric round barrow occupies the summit of Trink, dating roughly from the Bronze Age. It was constructed from earth and stone over a burial. The barrow has become ruined over time, possibly due to weather, or perhaps because of human and animal activity. During the 20th century, an Ordnance Survey trig point, TP6586, was built within the ruins.
A second prehistoric monument survives on the western slope, a standing stone near the former Giew Mine. The original date and purpose of this stone are uncertain. It is sometimes described as a prehistoric menhir, but there isn't enough evidence to be certain when it was erected. It may belong to the Neolithic or Bronze Age, although this remains a possibility rather than an established fact.
It would be safe to assume that the barrow and standing stone are not contemporary, but this is not certain. If the standing stone is indeed prehistoric and predates the barrow, it may be the reason the barrow builders chose Trink as the place to lay their dead to rest. The presence of these monuments, together with the hill's prominent position, suggests that Trink was an important place within the prehistoric Penwith landscape.
Trencrom's enclosure was reoccupied during the Iron Age. However, that suggests that it may have been abandoned and possibly forgotten in the interim, which cannot be proved. The site may have continued to be a place of significance for the local population during this time. What we can say is that it was repurposed and modified. Evidence for this includes pottery and roundhouse platforms. Its elevated position would have offered protection and extensive views. However, it shouldn't be approached in the traditional Victorian archaeological way and simply assumed to be a military fortress. Iron Age hillforts, like their predecessors, could have served as settlements, gathering places or centres of authority and ritual, as well as expressing a territorial claim.
The two hills represent different forms of prehistoric activity. Trencrom developed as an enclosed hilltop site, involving settlement or ritual activities, while Trink became a place of burial, marked by its round barrow.
The granite landscape of both hills eventually became part of the folklore of West Cornwall.
Trencrom was traditionally associated with a giant named Trecobben. Legend tells of Trecobben and Cormoran, two giants who played games across the landscape by throwing stones between Trencrom and St Michael's Mount. The stories tell us that Trecobben accidentally killed Cormoran's wife, Cormelian, with a thrown hammer. The giant is also linked with the great stones and tors around the hill, particularly Bowl Rock, which sits in the valley below Trencrom beside the road between Trevethoe and Balnoon.
Trink developed with its own traditions. The hill became locally famous for the Twelve O'Clock Rock. Tradition centred on this granite formation, which is situated on the south-eastern side of the hill the rock was regarded by locals local as a type of logan stone, a rock that can be made to move or rock. However, this particular one was believed to move only at midnight.
Nineteenth-century accounts describe the tradition as being particularly associated with children suffering from rickets. People would bring their sick children to the stone and place them upon it at midnight. It was believed that if the stone moved, the treatment had been successful. The rock was also said to respond to sounds such as a c**k crowing or church bells. These accounts don't establish how old the practice was. They do, however, give us an unusually detailed glimpse into local belief and show how people later interpreted and understood the landscape around them.
The eighteenth and nineteenth centuries brought a very different use of the two hills.
The area around the hills, like much of Penwith, is rich in mineral resources. At Trink, these were worked through Giew Mine, which introduced shafts, pits, tracks and spoil into a landscape that was already rich with prehistoric monuments. On Trencrom, mining took place around the summit and slopes through workings including Wheal Cherry. In 1875, several workings on the two hills were brought together under Wheal Sister, a consolidation of earlier mining ventures.
Granite quarrying also changed parts of the hills, damaging or removing some natural features that had significance in local tradition. At Trencrom, later quarrying and stone splitting are recorded within the wider area of the monument.
The human histories of both hills stretch back thousands of years, with evidence of prehistoric activity, later settlement, mining and local folklore. Archaeology and monuments can tell us how people used the landscape, although they cannot tell us how those people understood it. The mining remains show how the hills were later exploited for their mineral resources, while the stories of giants and the Twelve O'Clock Rock reflect a later layer of local tradition.
Taken together, Trencrom and Trink contain a wide range of evidence from different periods, bringing together prehistoric monuments, geology, Iron Age occupation, industrial-era mining and local folklore within a relatively small area of the Penwith landscape.

Photo: view from summit of Trencrom with the sun setting behind Trink

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The Guildhall, Street-an-Pol
Saint Ives
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