'On the brow of a lofty hill,[19] crested with stag-horned trees, commanding a deep and woodland gorge wherein "the Crooks of Combe" (the curves of a winding river) urge onward to the "Severn Sea," still survive the remains of famous old Stow, that historic abode of the loyal and glorious Sir Bevill, the Bayard of old Cornwall, "sans peur et sans reproche," in the thrilling Stewart wars. No mansion on the Tamar-side ever accumulated so rich and varied a store of association and event. Thither the sons of the Cornish gentry were accustomed to resort, to be nurtured and brought up with the children of Sir Bevill Grenville and Lady Grace; for the noble knight was literally the "glass wherein" the youth of those ancient times "did dress themselves." There their graver studies were relieved by manly pastimes and athletic exercise. Like the children of the Persians, they were taught "to ride, to bend the bow, and to speak the truth." At hearth and hall every time-honoured usage and festive celebration was carefully and reverently preserved. Around the walls branched the massive antlers of the red deer of the moors, the trophies of many a bold achievement with horse and hound. At the buttery-hatch hung a tankard, marked with the guest's and the traveller's peg, and a manchet, flanked with native cheese, stood ready on a trencher for any sudden visitant who might choose to lift the latch; for the Grenville motto was, "An open door and a greeting hand." A troop of retainers, servants, grooms, and varlets of the yard, stood each in his place, and under orders to receive with a welcome the unknown stranger, as well as their master's kinsman or friend.' To Mr. Hawker's graceful pen we are also indebted for the following capital ballad: SIR BEVILL--THE GATE SONG OF STOW. 'Arise, and away! for the King and the land; Farewell to the couch and the pillow: With spear in the rest, and with rein in the hand, Let us rush on the foe like a billow. 'Call the hind from the plough, and the herd from the fold, Bid the wassailer cease from his revel; And ride for Old Stow, where the banner's unrolled For the cause of King Charles and Sir Bevill. 'Trevanion is up, and Godolphin is nigh, And Harris of Hayne's o'er the river; From Lundy to Loo, "One and all" is the cry, And "The King and Sir Bevill for ever!" 'Ay! by Tre, Pol, and Pen, ye may know Cornish men, 'Mid the names and the nobles of Devon; But if truth to the King be a signal, why then Ye can find out the Grenville in heaven. 'Ride! ride with red spur! there is death in delay, 'Tis a race for dear life with the devil; If dark Cromwell prevail, and the King must give way, This earth is no place for Sir Bevill.