Part 1

STORIES AND FOLK-LORE OF WEST CORNWALL

BY WILLIAM BOTTRELL.

“The proper study of mankind is man.”—Pope.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY MR. JOSEPH BLIGHT.

THIRD SERIES.

PENZANCE PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR BY F. RODDA. 1880.

(Right of Translation reserved.)

PREFACE.

The publication of the present work has been attended by circumstances of pathetic interest. It is to be feared that it will be the last literary testament of its author, who, before the whole was completed, was stricken by a severe stroke of paralysis, which has incapacitated him from holding a pen in his hand. He must, therefore, claim the indulgence of the critics and the public in this third series of Cornish tales.

The whole subject of folk-lore, however, is at this moment of such general interest, that still it is hoped that this little addition to the stores now being gathered from every nation under heaven, may be acceptable to the literary world. The publication of Melusine, a periodical solely devoted to folk-lore subjects, at Paris, was followed in England by the formation of the Folk-lore Society in 1878, which promises to take an important position among the learned societies of the English nation, and whose publications have already reached the third volume. The valuable collections of this society have doubtless done much to systematize the work already done, and to encourage the labours of collectors of folk-lore throughout the world.

The poet truly says,—

“The proper study of mankind is man.”

and so the folk-lore student, in collecting the myths, the proverbs, the traditions, the customs of the peasants of many lands, is doing an important work in accumulating facts bearing on the history of mankind; not the mere records of the wars and doings of kings and generals, but of the beliefs, aspirations, thoughts and feelings of the working classes of various nations.

In this work the author has done some valuable service, and it is to be hoped that this addition to his former labours may be found of value, seeing that it deals not with the traditions of the peasantry of distant and foreign lands, but with the legends and traditions of the country folk of one of the most romantic and interesting counties of “Merrie England.”

CONTENTS.

PAGE Legends of Ladock 1 The Prize Wrestler and Demon 3 The Feathered Fiend 12 The Ghosts of Kenegie 21 Laying Wild Harris’s Ghost 26 Cornish Castles 37 The Haunted Lawyer 39 Hallantide: or a St. Just Feast fifty years ago 48 Mill Stories 60 A Poor Tinner’s Feast 62 An old Droll about a Poor Tinner’s Feast 69 A Madron Feast of fifty years ago 73 Zennor Hearthside Stories 80 The Seaman’s Ghost 84 The Old Woman’s Ghost 88 The Mutton Feast of St. Ives 89 The Witch of Kerrow 91 Fairies on the Eastern Green 92 The last Threatened Invasion: Commotion and False Alarm in the West 95 Mal Treloare and Sandry Kemp kiss and become good friends again: or Backbiting Crull outwitted 97 The Three Geese 100 The Earl of Stairs’ Son 105 From Penzance to Carn Galva: Noteworthy objects by the way 114 Madron 114 Madron Well 115 Madron Chapel 117 Lanyon Quoit 117 Lanyon Town Place and House 119 The Crick-stone 119 Men Scryfa 121 The Four Parishes 121 The Giant of Carn Galva 122 The Penzance of our Grandfathers 126 The Old Market-House and its surroundings 126 The Battle of Architectural Styles 128 The Self-taught Architect 128 The Bustle of a Market Day 129 Madam Trezillian’s Head-Dress 130 The Ancient Fish-Women of Penzance 131 The School-days and Home of Pellew 131 The Western approach to Penzance 133 Parson Spry and his Wooden Horse and Dog “Sport” 133 The Rev. James Bevan 137 Country Clerks and Country Choirs 138 Old Christmas Carols 138 Ancient mode of conducting Funerals 139 Former means of information among the people 140 The Astrologers of the West 141 Conjurors and their Spells 142 Old Justice Jones 143 The Vingoes of Treville 143 Pellew and his Cornish crew 144 Ancient Games 144 Old methods of Conveyance—Riding Pillion 145 Popular Songs of the times, Marlbrook, and Sentimental Ditties 145 Green Lanes and Footpaths 148 Pack-Saddles, &c. 148 Going to Town on Market-day 149 Early part of this Century 150 An old-fashioned greeting 151 The Ghosts of Chapel-street and St. Mary’s Chapel-yard 152 Local Nicknames 155 Merry-geeks and Market-Jew Crows 155 Ludgvan Hurlers and Gulval Bulls 155 Moushal Cut-throats and Newlyn Buckas 156 Sancras Pigs and Buryan Boars 156 St. Levan Witches, &c. 157 Santust Fuggans and Morvah Chick-chacks 158 Nancledrea Rats and Zennor Goats 158 Towednack Cuckoos and St. Ives Hakes 159 A Cornish Droll: Betty Toddy and her Gown 161 The Ghost-layer 171 Cornish Dialogue between two old men 173 A Dialogue between Gracey Penrose and Mally Trevisky 175 Christmas Carols 177 Ancient Midsummer Customs 179 The “Hilla” 181 The Ancient Cornish Language in the Colonies 183 According how et may drop 184 Cornish words in use 185 Cornish observances with regard to the Sun and Moon 187 Cornish Conjurors’ Charms against Witchcraft 190 All on one side, like Smoothy’s wedding 192 Piskies 193 Old Cornish Words 195 Glossary of Local Words 197 Subscribers’ Names 199

LEGENDS OF LADOCK.

“A good man there was of religioun, That was a poure persone of a toun: But riche he was of holy thought and werk, He was also a lerned man—a clerk.

And though he holy were and vertuous, He was to sinful men not despitous, Ne of his speche dangerous ne digne (proud), But in his teching discrete and benigne.”

Chaucer.

A little more than a century ago the Rector of Ladock was the Rev. Mr. Wood, who was a most zealous churchman even in the days of misty prejudice, when churchmen in general looked upon nonconformists as scabbed sheep in their fold, and held that no schismatics were to be tolerated. From having unwavering faith in the grace conferred by his ordination, he was endowed with remarkable powers as an exorcist and ghost-layer. The reverend gentleman was also an adept in astrology and other occult sciences, which enabled him to perform wonders. The simple folk of that secluded place, believing that their good parson possessed more knowledge than is attributed to ordinary members of the three learned professions combined, sought his aid in their physical infirmities and social disturbances, as well as for their spiritual wants. These simple, honest people were not much troubled in regard to the latter. In those tranquil times they were comparatively temperate in religious matters. There were many traits in the secular side of Mr. Wood’s character for which he was much liked and respected. If any dispute arose between his parishioners the matter was referred to him; and, such was their confidence in the justice of his award, that they always abided by his decision. If they had difficulties in parish business the parson explained the law on the subject, and the matter was settled accordingly. With the youngsters, too, he was a great favourite. He encouraged them to keep up the old games of wrestling, hurling, and other manly sports. The silver hurling-ball was left in the parson’s care, and at the Tides, when he gave it to the young men, he would say to them, “Now, my boys, be on your honour with each other, and let it be your pride to behave according to the legend engraved on your ball, in old Cornish, which means, as you know, that ‘Fair Play is Good Play!’ Be sure, too, that One and All observe the ancient laws of your games, which I will explain to ye if there should be any uncertainty.” Mr. Wood mostly gratified the youngsters by being a spectator of their games, and, unless he appeared on the Green, some of them went to request his presence.

He would often say to the men, “A knowledge of the science of wrestling is as necessary as that of boxing to give one a ready means of self defence. Besides, it is a respectable exercise from its antiquity. Old chroniclers say that the hero Corineus (or Corin) with his Trojan hosts, by their faculty of wrestling subdued the Giants by whom this Western Land was possessed when he and Brutus, with their followers, landed at Totnes.” He told them how Corin threw the Giants’ king, Gogmagog, on Plymouth Hoe, and then cast him headlong into the sea over the cliff ever since called Langomagog, or the Giant’s Leap.

“For which the conquering Brute, on Corineus brave This horn of land bestowed, and marked it with his name, Of Corin, Cornwall call’d, to his immortal fame.”

“Soon after this,” Mr. Wood used to say, “the rest of the giants died for grief. The remembrance of Corin’s exploit was also preserved by the figures of the wrestlers being cut out in the turf on Plymouth Hoe. These were renewed as they were worn out. The Cornish should be proud to excel in this exercise, for the remembrance of the great Corineus from whom they are said to derive their pedigree! So shew yourselves like brave Trojans, my boys—equally ready to fairly fight and then to feast with their opponents, using no cunning wiles or tricks to betray. They were good hurlers, too, as well as wrestlers. Besides this, our old heroic games, and the chase, which may be classed with them, afford such wholesome excitement as serves to dispel melancholy thoughts, which, if they be brooded over, are apt to render people crazy, especially when they lead such solitary lives as most country-folk must. The wisest of eastern sages has said that there are proper times for joyous diversions as well as for labour. Such old romances, too, as are related around the winter’s hearth, serve the same good purpose in that dreary season.”

It seems that, formerly, in spite of all the subtle disguises that the devil assumed, he was mostly known when ranging abroad; and Mr. Wood was always able to detect and conquer him, if he ventured within his jurisdiction. The parson changed the Evil One into the shape of an animal, and then belaboured the infernal beast lustily with his hunting-whip, until it ran away, howling like Tregagle. When walking, Mr. Wood usually carried a stout ebony stick. On its massive silver head was engraved a pentacle, or Solomon’s seal, and on a broad ring or ferrule, just below the knob, were planetary signs and mystical figures. This staff was regarded with curiosity and awe. It was said that, by means of it, “he ruled the planets, controuled evil spirits, repelled witchcraft, and performed supernatural work generally.”

The following stories are still told by the winter’s fireside in Ladock and adjacent parishes. As usual there are various versions, which differ in detail, because our old droll-tellers claimed a free flight for fancy in such portions of their stories as admitted of it.

THE PRIZE WRESTLER AND DEMON.

There was a famous wrestler of Ladock, called John Trevail, though more generally known among his comrades as “Cousin Jackey,” from the common practice of thus styling favourites who may be no relation. One Midsummer’s day Jackey went into a neighbouring parish and threw their champion wrestler. In his pride, he said, as he swaggered round the ring, “I am open to a challenge from any man, and wouldn’t mind having a hitch with the Devil himself, ef he’d venture!”

After the wrestling he passed a few hours with his comrades in the public house. On his way home, alone, about the “turn of night,” he came to a common called Le Pens Plat, which is two miles or more from Ladock Churchtown. As he was going on slowly, from being somewhat tired, and not very steady in the head, he was overtaken by a gentleman dressed like a clergyman, who accosted him in gentle tones, saying,

“I was at the wrestling to-day, and I think you are the prize wrestler. Am I right?”

“Yes, sir, I won the prize that I now carry,” replied Trevail, who felt very uneasy at meeting there such a strange, black-coated gentleman at that time of night, though a full moon and clear sky made it almost as light as day.

“I am very fond of wrestling myself,” resumed the stranger; “it’s an ancient, manlike exercise, for which we Cornishmen have always been renowned; and, as I want to learn more science in my play, I should much like to try a bout with you; say for your gold lace hat and five guineas, which I will stake.”

“Not now, sir, for I’m tired,” Jackey replied, “but I’ll play you after dinner-time if you please, when I’ve had a few hours rest—say two or three o’clock, if it will please you.”

“Oh no; it must be at midnight, or soon after, now the nights are short,” said the stranger; “it would never do for one in my position to be seen here wrestling with you, high by day; it would scandalize my cloth in these particular and gossip-loving times.”

Trevail hesitated, and thought of the wild words he had uttered in the ring. He had then challenged the Devil, and he felt persuaded that he was now face to face with his enemy, in this lonely spot. Thinking it best, however, to be as civil as possible, he agreed to the stranger’s proposal to meet him there at midnight, or soon after; they shook hands to the bargain, and the gentleman gave him a purse with five guineas in it for his stake, saying at the same time—

“You are well known to be an honest fellow, I’ve no fear of your not bringing the money and your prize won to-day; and if, by any mischance, I shouldn’t come, the money is yours; but there’s little doubt of my being here sharp upon midnight.”

He then wished Jackey good morrow, and went away over the common by another path leading northward. The poor fellow felt, as he trudged along homeward, that he had sold himself to the Old One. In looking down, when he said good morrow (he couldn’t bear the stranger’s eye) he saw what he believed to be a cloven foot peeping from beneath his long black skirts. Poor fellow! he felt as bad as gone, unless he could be rescued some way. But he could devise no plan by which to avoid his fate.

Dragging himself along, as best he could, afraid to look behind him, he got to his dwelling about three o’clock in the morning. His wife, on hearing the door opened, came downstairs. Seeing Jackey’s haggard looks she refrained from “jawing” him as usual, when he came home late, and the want of her rough talk made him feel worse than ever. Jackey took from his pocket the bag of guineas, and threw it into the tool-chest, among a lot of lumber, saying, “Molly, my dear, doesn’t thee touch that shammy leather bag for the world! ’Tes the Devil’s money that’s in am!” Little by little he told her what had happened on the common, and concluded by moaning out,

“Oh Molly, my dear, thee hast often wished that Old Neck would come and take me away bodily, and now et do seem es ef thy prayers are to be answered.”

“No, no, Jackey my son, never think of et,” sobbed she; “whatever I said was only from the lips outwards, and that’s of no effect, my darlin. I can’t afford to lose thee yet for awhile. As the sayan es, ‘Bad as thee art it might be wes (worse) without thee.’ Go the wayst up to bed, my son, et mayn’t come to that for awhile: I’ll this minute put on my cloak and hat, and away to the passen. No good for thee, nor all the world, to say no, for he only can save thee.”

On her way to beg Mr. Wood’s assistance she called up a croney with whom she was on pretty fair terms just then.

“Arrea! soas; what’s the matter?” exclaimed the gossip, looking from her chamber-window. “Have anybody cried out that you’re in such ‘stroath’ (hurry) at this untimely hour.”

“Come along to the passen’s,” replied Molly. “I’m so ‘flambustered’ (worried) I can hardly speak. Somethan dreadful have happened to our Jackey; and you mustn’t drop a word to anybody, for your life, of what I’ll tell ’e on the road.”

The reverend gentleman, being an early riser, was standing at his door, looking out in the grey of the morning, when he saw the two women, in much agitation, coming towards him. Ere he had time to speak, Jackey’s wife, with her apron to her eyes, sobbed out, “Oh, your reverence, I be a poor woman ruined and undone, that I be; for our dear Jackey have ben and sold hisself to the Old One, and will be carried away bodily the very next night ef you don’t save am! That a will.”

After some questions Mr. Wood got an inkling of the case, and said to Molly,

“Make haste home, my good woman, and tell Jackey, from me, to cheer up; I’ll see him presently and tell him how to act, and I’m pretty sure the Devil will meet his match, with my assistance.”

Shortly after sunrise Mr. Wood entered the wrestler’s dwelling, and found him stretched on the chimney-stool, sound asleep. When Jackey knew the wise step his wife had taken—the only one indeed of any use under the circumstances—he became tranquil, and, worn out as he was with great exertion of body and mind, he soon forgot his troubles. Mr. Wood roused him and said,

“Why, Jackey, is there any truth in what your wife has just told me, or did you fall asleep on the common and have an ugly dream? The chamois-bag that Molly spoke of may contain nothing more than wart-stones that bad luck cast in your way; but tell me what happened from first to last, and let’s see the bag.”

Trevail related his adventures, and concluded by saying,

“’Tes all like an ugly dream, sure enow, your reverence, and I wish it were nothing else, but the Old One’s money es there in my tool-chest, and I remember every word that passed; besides I should know him again among ten thousand,—such fiery eyes I never beheld in any other head, to say nothan of the glimpse I had of his cloven foot.”

Then Jackey brought the bag, holding it at arm’s length with a pincers, as he might a toad. Urged on, he opened it and turned out five pieces of glittering gold.

The parson, having examined them, said,

“The sight of these spade guineas, with what you have told me, leave no doubt that you bargained to wrestle with the Devil; for he it is; you could get this gold no other way; I’m certain you wouldn’t use unfair means to obtain it. The money seems good enough, whatever mint it might have been coined in. Yet take courage, you must be as good as your word, and to-night meet the Old One, as you call him. Don’t fail to be at the appointed place by midnight, and take with you the stakes, as agreed on.”

Jackey looked very dejected on hearing this; intimated that he didn’t like to go alone, and that he had trusted to have Mr. Wood’s company.

“You must keep your word with the Devil,” continued the parson, “or he may come and fetch you when least expected. I shall not go with you, yet depend on it I’ll be near at hand to protect you against unfair play.”

Whilst saying this Mr. Wood took from his pocket-book a slip of parchment, on which certain mystic signs and words were traced or written.

“Secure this in the left-hand side of your waistcoat,” said he, in giving it to Jackey; “don’t change your waistcoat, and be sure to wear it in the encounter; above all, mind ye—show no fear, but behave with him precisely as you would with any ordinary wrestler, and don’t spare him, or be fooled by his devices.”

Jackey’s wife now came in. She had been “courseying” (gossiping) on the road, to ease her mind. Mr. Wood left the dwelling; and Trevail, now in pretty good heart, went with him some distance.

On parting the parson cautioned him to keep the matter private.

“That I will be sure to do,” replied Jackey; “I havn’t told a living soul but my wife, and she can keep a secret first-rate—for a woman. There’s no fear now of my showing a white feather, thanks to your reverence.”

At the appointed time our prize-wrestler went boldly to Le Pens Plat Common and waited near the spot agreed on. At midnight the gentleman in black arrived by the same path he took in the morning. They looked hard at each other for some minutes without speaking, till Trevail said, “I’m come in good time you see, and there are the prizes on that rock. You know the rules of the game, I suppose, that one must lay hold above the waist; whichever makes three falls in five bouts wins the prize; it belongs to you, as the challenger, to take the first hitch.”

Still the stranger made no reply, and kept his gleaming eyes on the wrestler, who, feeling uncomfortable under his persistent stare, looked towards the rock, where the prizes lay, and said, “Then, if you won’t wrestle, take your money, and no harm done.”

That instant Trevail felt himself seized, all unawares, by his waistband and lifted clear off the ground. It seemed to the man as if the Old One rose with him many yards above the earth; and its “far-re-well to all the world with me now,” thought Cousin Jackey to himself.

During a desperate struggle in the air, however, the man got his right arm over his opponent’s shoulder, and grabbing him on the back with a good holdfast, took a crook with his legs. In the encounter the wrestler’s breast, or rather his waistcoat, touched the Evil One, who on the instant lost his hold, fell flat on his back, as if knocked down, and writhed on the ground like a wounded snake. The wrestler pitched to his feet as he came down, never the worse, but his temper was now raised to such a point that he was ready to fight or wrestle with any man or devil.

The other rose up with fury in his countenance, and exclaimed, “You have some concealed weapon about ye that has wounded me; cast off that waistcoat.”

“No, by golls,” replied Jackey, “that I wont, to please ye; feel my jacket if you like; there’s no blade in am, not even a pin’s point, but ’tes you that show the queer tricks; catch me off my guard again ef you can.”

Saying this he clenched the Old One like a vice; but they had a hard struggle for more than five minutes, pushing and dragging each other to and fro at arm’s length. The Old One seemed afraid to close in. Jackey felt all out of sorts with the blasting gleams of the other’s evil eyes, and couldn’t get a crook with his legs. At last, making a desperate plunge, he freed himself from the Devil’s grasp; took him with the “flying-mare,” and threw him on his back with such a “qualk” as made him belch brimstone fumes.

The devil quickly sprung up, looking very furious, and said, “I’m deceived in you, for your play is very rough, and I desire you to request Parson Wood to go home. I am confused and powerless whilst he is looking on.”

“I don’t see Mr. Wood, nor anybody else but you,” returned Jackey.