The church of S. Ives is interesting, and is, like most others in Cornwall, Perpendicular. It is of granite, and contains some fine oak carving in bench-ends and waggon-roof, and a portion of the screen presented, it is supposed, by Ralph Clies, a master smith; also a brass to Otho Trenwith and his wife. The latter is represented kneeling to and invoking the archangel Michael. The head of S. Michael has a comical effect. “Some perplexity may be felt at the appearance of Saint Michael’s head, which looks like nothing so much as a Dutch cheese. The fact is, that when this brass lay on the floor, the feet of passers-by had gradually erased the features of the archangel, leaving only the circular nimbus or glory round his head. Some well-meaning but misguided restorer of later days has evidently taken the nimbus to be the outline of the head, and has roughly filled in eyes, nose, and mouth to correspond.”[27] An event occurred at Penzance in 1760 that was curious. A large vessel was driven ashore on the beach. Numbers of persons crowded to the wreck to get from it what they could, when they were startled to see it manned by swarthy mariners with scimitars and turbans. At once a panic seized on those who had come out of interested motives to the wreck, and they scuttled off as hard as their legs would take them. Presently a company of volunteers was called out to roll of drum, and marched down to surround the 172 men who had disembarked from the wreck. These were gallantly captured and driven like sheep into a spacious barn, and left there under guard through the night. Next morning it was ascertained from the men who had come ashore (some of whom could speak broken French), by means of some English officers who could understand a little French, especially when broken, that the vessel was an Algerine corsair, carrying twenty-four guns, and that the captain, finding his ship making water rapidly, had run her ashore in Mount’s Bay, fully believing he was about the latitude of Cadiz. The instant it was known that the sailors were Algerines, a deadly panic fell on the neighbourhood, for now the plague was feared. The volunteers could hardly be kept at their posts, where they quaked, and felt internal qualms. Intelligence was conveyed to the Government, and orders were issued for troops to march from Plymouth. Happily, however, the panic rapidly abated; the local authorities convinced themselves that there was no plague among the strangers, and, slowly and cautiously, people approached to look and gape at the dark-moustached and bearded men with dusky skin, bare legs, and turbans. The pirates were on the whole kindly treated, and after some delay were sent back to Algiers.