Cornwall ( /ˈkɔrnwɔːl/ or /ˈkɔrnwəl/;Cornish: Kernow [ˈkɛrnɔʊ]; Latin: Cornubia or Cornuvia) is a unitary authority and ceremonial county of England, within the United Kingdom. It is bordered to the north and west by the Celtic Sea, to the south by the English Channel, and to the east by the county of Devon, over the River Tamar. Cornwall has a population of 537,400 and covers an area of 3,563 km2 (1,376 sq mi). The administrative centre and only city is Truro.
The area now known as Cornwall was first inhabited in the Palaeolithic and Mesolithic periods. It continued to be occupied by Neolithic and then Bronze Age peoples, and later (in the Iron Age) by Brythons with distinctive cultural relations to neighbouring Wales and Brittany. There is little evidence that Roman rule was effective west of Exeter and few Roman remains have been found. Cornwall was a division of the Dumnonii tribe—whose tribal centre was in the modern county of Devon—known as the Cornovii, separated from Wales after the Battle of Deorham, often coming into conflict with the expanding English kingdom of Wessex before King Athelstan in AD 936 set the boundary between English and Cornish at the Tamar. From the early Middle Ages, British language and culture was apparently shared by Brythons trading across both sides of the Channel, evidenced by the corresponding high medieval Breton kingdoms of Domnonee and Cornouaille and the Celtic Christianity common to both territories.
Rosamunde Pilcher OBE (born 22 September 1924) is a British author of romance novels and mainstream women's fiction. Early in her career she was also published under the pen name Jane Fraser. Pilcher retired from writing in 2000.
Rosamunde Pilcher was born Rosamunde Scott in Lelant, Cornwall, and attended St. Clare's Polwithen and Howell's School Llandaff before going on to Miss Kerr-Sanders' Secretarial College. She began writing when she was seven, and published her first short story when she was 18.
From 1943 through 1946, Pilcher served with the Women's Naval Service. On 7 December 1946, she married Graham Hope Pilcher, a war hero and jute industry executive who died in March 2009. They moved to Dundee, Scotland, where she still lives today. They had four children.
In 1949, Pilcher's first book, a romance novel, was published by Mills and Boon, under the pseudonym Jane Fraser. She published a further ten novels under that name. In 1955, she also began writing under her real name with Secret to Tell. By 1965 she had dropped the pseudonym and was signing her own name to all of her novels.
Sir David Frederick Attenborough ( /ˈætənbərə/) OM, CH, CVO, CBE, FRS, FZS, FSA (born 8 May 1926) is a British broadcaster and naturalist.
His career as the face and voice of natural history programmes has endured for more than 50 years. He is best known for writing and presenting the nine Life series, in conjunction with the BBC Natural History Unit, which collectively form a comprehensive survey of all life on the planet. He is also a former senior manager at the BBC, having served as controller of BBC Two and director of programming for BBC Television in the 1960s and 1970s.
Attenborough is widely considered a national treasure in Britain, although he himself does not care for the term. He is a younger brother of director, producer and actor Richard Attenborough.
Attenborough was born in Isleworth, west London, but grew up in College House on the campus of the University College, Leicester, where his father, Frederick, was principal. He is the middle of three sons (his elder brother, Richard, became an actor and his younger brother, John, an executive at Italian car manufacturer Alfa Romeo). During World War II his parents also adopted two Jewish refugee girls from Europe.
As the hound obeys the hunters' horn call
So I'm called back home to Cornwall
For that's where my heart lies buried
'Neath the standing stone
Where a white cross on a black field standing
Proudly waves above the landing place
Beneath the rugged cliffs of Cornwall, my true love
Broken images of memories awaken in my bones
When I do recall the land I left behind that was my home
Sailing out from Falmouth bay way back in nineteen-eighty-three
Green behind the ears, just fifteen years of age, well that was me
Like a fool searching for freedom, roving further far and wide
I set out but I did not return upon the running tide
Where the timeless cliffs resound with mournful echoes of the cries
Of fearless seabirds chasing storm clouds though the silver sky
From the all-night clubs of west Berlin to lonely Pyrenees
From chaotic squats in Amsterdam to New World 'cross the sea
From the forests of New Hampshire to the streets of London Town
Though I loved each place, I could not stay, forever homeward bound
Where the gorse and foxglove dance and sway upon the rolling moors
And the sea wind blow her emerald kiss from north to southern shore
Where a song of stone sings out in-tune to transatlantic waves
If I could but hear that song again, my soul it would be saved
When I die as we must do one and all
Send my body home to Cornwall
Place my bones down with my heart
Beneath the standing stone
Put white cross on black field standing
On my coffin then I'll finally rest in peace