Saltash was formerly a very much more important place than it is to-day. Now the tubular bridge of Brunel connects Cornwall and Devon, and railway trains slip along it, making communication with Plymouth from Cornwall easy and speedy. It was not so in former times. Then travellers from the West on their way to Plymouth or to London, if they did not go by coach by the great highway from Falmouth, by Bodmin and Launceston, were brought up by the strip of blue water that formed the estuary of the Tamar and Tavy, called the Hamoaze, and there, after halting at Saltash they were forced to cross in the ferry or by boat. Saltash signifies the Saltwater—ash = usk, and Hamoaze is the Border water, oaze = usk as well.

The Saltash boatmen plied a good trade, conveying over the passengers from Cornwall to Devon. Moreover, houses were cheap at Saltash, and old salts lived there, where they could smell the sea air, and every now and then crossed into Plymouth to do their shopping. From time immemorial there had been boat-races in the Hamoaze, and the women of Saltash were not behind the men at plying the oar.

Mr. Whitfeld in his Three Towns' History says:—

"The Saltash festival was by no means wholly intended for the encouragement of the males, for the 'ladies' feathered their oars with such dexterity that few of the opposite sex would enter the lists against them. Before the races for these damsels of uncertain age were started, blue favours were tied round their white caps by members of the committee. The fair rowers were attired in short white bedgowns and blue cap-guards, and their gigs shot around the course of five miles 'like so many birds.' From a sporting point of view the feature of the first regatta was a life or death competition between Jacky Gould and the Glanvilles. If Jacky's boat, Miller's Daughter, was the crack, Alarm was scarcely inferior, and Paul Pry was a first-class craft. Crash! went the starting-gun, and the competitors dashed away with a flood tide and a breeze from the northward. When they left on their ten-mile course one vast shout went up, the boats flew as instinct with life, every nerve on the stretch. The first five miles were covered in thirty minutes, and as the boats turned the committee vessel there were deafening shouts of 'Bravo, Jacky.' 'Well done, Glanville!' Then these hearts-of-oak flashed on their second round, and excitement intensified as the telescope reported progress. When the boats reappeared the suspense broke into a feverish roar, and calls to the rivals were tossed like corks on a sea of voices. Swiftly they drew near, the boats in a line, the interest increased to painful intensity as the race was neck-and-neck. The judge stood by, red-hot poker in hand, and as the bow of the Alarm, pulled by the Glanvilles, first touched the hawsers of the committee vessel, Bang! went the signal gun; 'See the Conquering Hero' burst from the band, and hundreds clustered round to congratulate the victors, and condole with Jacky Gould, who was only five seconds behind, though the boat was two feet shorter, and one of his crew had broken an oar."

The Glanvilles were amphibious—or rather lived almost wholly on the water during the day, only returning to the land for sleep at night.

The name is old. The first Glanvilles of whom we know anything authentic were located at Whitchurch, near Tavistock, where they were tanners, but a Judge Glanville raised the family to a higher position, in the reign of Elizabeth. Some, however, remained in a modest position, as did these boatmen of Saltash, and as did a huntsman to the late Mr. Kelly, of Kelly.

There occurred a terrible tragedy in the family, when Eulalia Glanville, niece of the Judge, murdered her husband, old John Page, a merchant of Plymouth, and was burnt alive for the crime, as one of petty treason, at Barnstaple, in 1591.

In 1824 at the regatta was offered a prize of £8 for a four-oared race for women, but no Glanville was in that. Ten years later, in 1834, at the regatta £20 was offered for boats sculled by women, and in this pulled a Mary Glanville. But the queen of women scullers of the Glanville stock was Ann, and she only entered it by marriage, by birth a Warring.[39] Mr. P. E. B. Porter, in his Around and About Saltash, 1905, thus describes her:—

"Ann Glanville was undoubtedly a remarkable woman for many reasons. Only such a place as Saltash, in such a naval port as this, could have produced a character like it. Only such a country as England could have produced such a woman. She was a genuine representative of Saltash in its great nautical days, when it was alive with business. The British tar was to her the ideal of a man and the very highest type of a hero. Into whatever trouble Jack got when ashore, however he might have been forsaken by all else in his reckless frivolity, he never wanted for a backer if Ann Glanville was near. And there was not a ship in the navy, in those days, that had not some story to tell of Ann's life and energy, and in which her name was not cherished as only a British sailor can cherish the memory of a friend. In a perfectly true sense, Ann Glanville was a mother to the British tar indiscriminately; she was known as Mother, and called Mother, by all."

Ann was born at Saltash in 1796, and was the daughter of a man named Warring or Werring. She married a man several years her junior in years, and by him became the mother of fourteen children. He was a waterman, she a waterwoman, and their children, every boy and girl, water-babies.

He had his boat, and when he was otherwise engaged—nursing the children, for instance, or merry-making in the tavern—she rowed across to Devonport.

Not passengers only, but goods were conveyed to and from Plymouth by the boats. Corn, crockery, drapery, everything except live cattle went in them. These latter by the ferry. Sometimes she rowed out officers to their ships, sometimes conveyed play-actors over from Plymouth into Cornwall, and on the great event of the elections at Saltash, candidates, electors, pot-boilers, political orators. Meat and vegetables went over in these boats to Plymouth market: a gentleman remembers Ann bringing round as many as seventy or eighty bags of corn in her boat from South Pool, pulling the great cargo alone, conveying it from Sutton Pool to Butt's Head Mill, a point two miles above Saltash.

Ann's husband fell ill and was long confined to bed, and the house and then the whole burden of supporting the family fell to her. But she had strong arms and a stouter heart, and managed not only to keep the wolf from the door, but the doctor as well.

"Have you got a doctor here, or have you to send over to Plymouth for one?" she was asked.

"Well, I believe there may be one here, but, thank God, here us most commonly dies a natural death."

Ann's fame as a rower at regattas spread throughout England. Some sixty or seventy years ago the crew of Saltash women was one of the most important features, not only in the Hamoaze, but all over the county wherever aquatic sports were given. She always rowed stroke. It was very rarely that Ann and her crew were beaten in a match—never by other women. The strength and endurance of these women, and their daring in accepting challenges and in the contests on the water, attracted universal attention. They competed for prizes at Hull, Liverpool, Portsmouth, Dartmouth, etc., and it must not be supposed that a male crew yielded the palm to them out of masculine courtesy, for the men did not at all relish being beaten by a "parcel o' females," as they were sure to have the fact thrown in their teeth afterwards.

Mrs. Harriet Screech, a daughter of Ann Glanville, rowed along with her mother in some of these contests, pulling the bow-oar, the least arduous post, assigned to her as the youngest of the crew. When engaged in a match at Fleetwood before the Queen, they gave the men so sound a beating that Her Majesty requested to have Ann presented to her.

But the most famous event of her life took place in 1850, when Captain Russell, of H.M.S. Brunswick, suggested to her that she and her crew should go over to Havre to the regatta there and challenge the Johnny Crapauds. She was quite prepared, and started under the escort of Captain Russell.

When the Frenchmen heard of the challenge from les Anglaises de Saltashe, they shrugged their shoulders, and hardly regarded it as serious. And when the strong, muscular women appeared in their white-frilled caps prinked out with blue ribbon, their short petticoats, white dresses, with a blue neckerchief tied over the shoulders and crossed behind the back, they looked puzzled.

Mr. Porter says: "The challenge of the English captain created a stir not only in Havre, but for miles around the French coast, and for many leagues inland too. In England great interest was felt in the forthcoming match, and in a short time it assumed a kind of international character. Thus when the regatta day came there was a vast concourse of people to witness the contest. Every quay, hill-top, and house-roof whence a view of the course could be obtained was crowded. All were on the tiptoe of expectation for les Anglaises.... Before the start the Saltash crew had a pull round 'to show themselves,' and when their steady stroke was seen, how they bent their backs to the work, yet with what perfect ease and grace they pulled, our French friends opened their eyes wider than usual. Ann and her crew had not the fairest start possible, nor had they the advantage at first. Six boats were ahead of them five minutes after the start. But they soon tested their opponents. After a little opening play to get into trim, Ann, who had the stroke oar, gave the word, 'Bend your backs to it, maidens; and hoorah for old England!' One by one the French boats were passed with a cheer from old Ann. At length the Saltash boat, with the British colours flying gaily at the fore, took the leading position. It was a long course and a hard pull, but the Frenchmen were soundly thrashed. Ann and her 'maidens' beat them by one hundred yards."

However gallant Frenchmen may be, they did not at all relish this beating.

The names of the crew were Ann Glanville, Harriet Hosking, Jane House, and Amelia Lee. A man acted as coxswain.

Mrs. House was so elated at the victory that on reaching the committee boat she plunged into the water, dived under the vessel, and came up with dripping and drooping nightcap on the opposite side.

When the Prince of Wales, our present King, and the Duke of Edinburgh came into Plymouth Sound in connection with the building of the new Eddystone Lighthouse, Ann was sent for. A steam launch was despatched to convey her to the vessel, where were their Highnesses, and she dined on board. Lord Charles Beresford always entertained a high regard for her, and never came to Plymouth without visiting her. During her last illness she had his likeness placed on one side of her bed, and that of her deceased husband on the other.

She died in 1880 at the age of eighty-five. In person Ann Glanville was tall, firmly and vigorously built, not stout, straight about the bust and waist. When young she must have been good-looking, for when old her face was handsome and always possessed great dignity. The mouth was firm. There was a kindly light in her grey eyes. She was always fond of a joke, and her character was summed up by a neighbour: "Her was honest to a farthing, clean as a smelt, and kind-hearted as a queen."