Gallivanting Geismom: Adventures in Marconi's Lizard Point

We've certainly had a string of luck with the weather here in Cornwall! Yet another beauty today as we headed out first to Godolphin, a manor house that stands on the UNESCO World Heritage Site for Cornish Mining.

It was difficult to capture a photo of the front, which is in the far left of this photo, as the sun was brilliantly shining behind it.

But I did manage to get a lovely view from the back garden.

The front of the house was actually featured as a back drop in the Poldark Series. The circular driveway was quite familiar as were the columns across the front. It's a shame that I couldn't get a better photo to share. You'll just have to take my word for it!

Godolphin House dates back to the 15th century where the Godolphin family made a fortune in the tin and copper mining in this UNESCO Heritage Site area. At one time it held one hundred rooms as successive generations improved upon the original structure. The house was eventually passed down through marriage to the Duke of Leeds in 1766.

The house came under disrepair during his ownership as it was neglected until the Duke leased it to a man by the name of Richard Tyacke. Richard dismantled the great hall and used the granite blocks to build stables for the cattle and horses as well as homes for the farm workers.

The land in this area is not very fertile for growing crops, so the best use of the land was to raise cattle. They were treated quite affectionately, as they were named by the farmers, housed in warm cozy granite walled barns and fed an interesting item called Mangelwurzel Shed, which is a beet-like root vegetable used in the winter months.

Each of them was hand milked by the women on the farm, and that meant carrying a bucket out to the field to milk the cow where she stood. I suppose you could call them "free range" cows! This went on into the 1960's even when mechanical methods were available.

Marty found the whole concept to be quite interesting.

and he decided that he wanted to try a hand at milking Polly. ( I did mention that I know people where we live who would probably be quite happy to give him a hands on experience.)

There wasn't a whole lot to see at Godolphin, so we just walked around a bit and admired some of the gardens.

From here we headed to the most southern point of Cornwall, The Lizard. Curious name, isn't it? I have no clue behind the origins of the name.

Walking down to the edge of the cliffs, you can see the beauty that greeted us.

But we were there on a mission, and that was to visit the wireless station used by Marconi back in 1901. And, that involved hiking along the edge of the cliffs to reach the station.

Each step seemed to offer an even more dynamic vista.

Do you see that little white structure in the far distance, near the right of the photo? Well, that was very near our destination. And that meant weaving our way down steep rocky descents then ascending pretty much in the same manner. It was, to say the least, very challenging.

On our way, we walked past a lighthouse.

Here you can kind of see the path making its way down hill, with a set of stone steps in the middle. And, those were the easy-to-walk version!

Here is a view of that lighthouse that we passed earlier. And we still had not arrived at the station!

Finally!

The station is just a small bungalow with a large antenna nearby. But it was used to prove that radio would work far pass the horizon. In January of 1901, Marconi received a transmission from over 180 miles away, and his future in developing the commercial potential of radio began. The station has been restored to look authentic to the one that Marconi would have used.

The interior featured original items from early days of transmitting to more modern methods and the tour guide was excellent in relaying the history.

Marty was in his glory!

In addition to completing the first successful long distance submission, it turns out, that in 1910, it was the first accounting of a wireless arrest. An American by the name of Dr. Hawley Harvey Crippen had been living in London in July of 1910. It was noted that his wife seemingly "disappeared" six months earlier and that his secretary was frequently in his company, flaunting his wife's furs and jewels. If anyone questioned him, he would tell them that his wife had gone to the United States and dropped dead somehow.

But a Scotland Yard detective found this to be quite suspicious and after questioning Crippen, the doctor became nervous and left with his secretary the next day. The two had boarded a ship for New York.

The police returned to the house, and in searching, discovered a mutilated body buried under the cellar. Although the body was unrecognizable, an abdominal scar verified that it was, indeed, Dr. Crippen's wife.

Using the wireless telegraph, the police were able to send Morse Code messages to the captain of the ship to keep a look out for Crippen. The warning was successful, and upon arrival in New York, Crippen was immediately put under arrest for the murder of his wife.

All thanks to the telegraph. Don't you love a happy ending?

We began the walk back to the parking lot.