“Here lyes all that was mortal of the most noble and truly valiant Sir Beville Grenville, of Stowe, in the county of Cornwall, Earl of Corbill, and Lord of Thorigny and Grenville, in France and Normandy, descended in a direct line from Robert, second son of the war-like Rollo, first Duke of Normandy, who, after having obtained divers signal victories over the rebels in the West, was at length slain, with many wounds, at the battle of Lansdowne, July 5, 1643. He married the most virtuous Lady, Grace, daughter of Sir George Smith, of the county of Devon, by whom he had many sons, eminent for their loyalty and firm adherence to the crown and church; and several daughters, remarkable examples of true piety. He was indeed an excellent person, whose activity, interest, and reputation, were the foundation of what had been done in Cornwall; his temper and affections so public, that no accident which happened could make any impression upon him, and his example kept others from taking any thing ill, or at least seeming to do so. In a word a higher courage and a gentler disposition were never married together, to make the most cheerful and innocent conversation.” “To the immortal memory of his renowned grandfather, this monument was erected by the Right Honourable George Lord Lansdowne, Treasurer of the Household to Queen Anne, and one of Her Majesty’s most honourable Privy Council, &c., in the year 1714.” “Thus slain thy valiant ancestor[37] did lye, When his one bark a navy did defy, When now encompass’d round the victor stood, And bath’d his pinnace in his conqu’ring blood, Till all his purple current dryed and spent, He fell, and made the waves his monument: Where shall the next famed Granville’s ashes stand. Thy grandsire fills the seas, and thou the land.” MARTIN LLEWELLIN. _Vide Oxford University Verses, printed 1643._[38] Clarendon, in his History of the Rebellion, speaks of Sir Beville Grenville’s death as “that which would have clouded any victory, and made the loss of others less spoken of: and the monument is indebted to that noble author’s own words for all the latter part of the panegyric it is so properly intended to perpetuate. The _Pulpit_ is a rich piece of carved work, and the _Font_ very antient.