Chapter 22 of 24 · 3995 words · ~20 min read

Part 22

The exclamation “Sa!” which is frequently heard in the country, and sometimes in town, is probably the old Cornish word sa, “stand!” It has continued in use, though its meaning has been forgotten. It is employed instead of “stand still!” “hold!” “avast!” “enough!” and such-like words, uttered in haste to arrest speech or action. Its usage, however, will be best shown by a few familiar examples.

In all parts of the country hereabouts, it is spoken to a restless cow to bid her be still whilst milked,—“Sa! Molly! sa!” Very likely most words used to cattle and poultry are ancient Cornish, and had meanings, now lost. “Sa, sa! eat petats, let the crust for supper!” is a saying often addressed to persons who want to enjoy all their good things at once. It is suggested by the well-known potato-pie with its substantial roll of crust and the custom of reserving a good portion of the latter, to serve, instead of cake for supper.

A short time ago, a butcher belonging to a western town had a horse of an uncertain age and no remarkable qualities; yet the owner was always “cracking it up” as the best beast in town, of its size—equally good for saddle and harness; sure-footed, staunch to collar, and so on. He also gave his fellow tradesmen to understand that anyone who coveted this choice animal must pay a good sum to tempt him to part with it. For a few days, butchers in surrounding stalls, to their surprise, heard no mention of the famous horse; then they learnt that it had changed owners, and for a lower price than it was expected the seller would have accepted. Butchers in general are much given to banter, and those of the town in question, liking this pastime very much, renewed their jibes by telling the seller of Dobbin that if he had at first only asked a fair price for his horse he would have got much more for it. One of them remarked that what he had stated in favour of the beast was as near the truth as could be expected from a jockey, and nearer than the owner knew of. Another, who was two or three stalls off, bellowed, “Aye by golls! [29] He nearly told the truth, for a wonder, but all through’s ign’rance.” In short, they tried to persuade the seller that he had made a bad bargain, though they knew the horse had fetched its full value, or more. The jockey-butcher sat listening to the others’ jeers with good humour, or returning them in the same vein, till, becoming tired of their long harping on the same string he sprang up, and shouted, “Sa! sa! lev’n go, es dry eatan” (let him go, he is dry eating), “as the old man said for the hare.”

The (native?) fable, or story from which our jolly butcher took his apt reply, runs thus:—

An old couple lived all alone in a little old house “out by night” (an out-of-the-way place). The old woman was constantly in a bad temper, because a hare got into their garden and ate the cabbages; she scolded and tormented her old man all day long because he didn’t build the garden hedges higher, or do something else to keep the hare out. To all her aggravating “jaw,” he would only reply, “Sa, sa, dear, when that hare es fat enow we’ll have a good pie.” One Saturday night, accordingly, he set a jin among the cabbages. On Sunday morning he got up by break o’ day, and ran out to see if the hare were “come to trap.” There it was, a fine one, caught by a fore leg. The old man, overjoyed by his good luck, without stopping to take up the hare, ran in, calling to his wife all the way, “come ’e along out, my dear; be quick; and see what a capital pie we shall have for dinner to-day.” She tore out in great “stroath” (confused haste), slipped on her clogs, crossed the garden, and got to the trap before her old man; but all she saw of the hare was a fore foot in the jin, and the white of its tail passing through a hole in the hedge, as it scampered off. The hare, on hearing the old woman’s clogs coming clap-a-clap among the cabbages, gave a twist, severed a bit of skin, which alone held it; the trap in closing had broken the bone. “That’s like thee, thee old buffle-head,” screamed she, “not to take up the hare at once and bring am in, instead of hobblan away to bring me out, draglan through the dew to catch my death this cold mornan, all undressed as I am; and that while, the hare, twistan and turnan, broke’s leg and es gone.”

“Sa! sa!” said the old man, “lev’n go, es dry eatan.”

CORNISH OBSERVANCES WITH REGARD TO THE SUN AND MOON.

Only a few years ago elderly farmers of the Land’s End district commenced the breaking of grass land with a sort of religious solemnity, to bring it into its three years’ course of tillage. On entering the field, the cattle, attached to the plough, were turned towards the west; and the ploughman saying, “In the name of God let’s begin,” proceeded with the course of the sun to “break ground” by turning a few yards of sod in that direction; afterwards the field might be ploughed towards any point that was convenient.

The same rite was observed by some on beginning to plough an arable field; and when they commenced to sow a few handfuls of grain were cast round—with the same formality—from east to west, for luck. Following the sun’s course in several other kinds of work was also regarded as a means of ensuring success.

Dairy-women always place their pans of milk so that they shall be skimmed, in turn, going with the sun, or from left to right. The scalded or clouted cream, for making butter, being placed in a shallow tub, is stirred round with the hand, or a wooden peel, in the direction of the sun’s course; if turned in a reverse manner, butter cannot be properly made—so it is believed. Young people dance round the Midsummer’s bonfire in the same order; if any of them take the wrong course it is believed, or at least said, they will die unmarried. When the bonfire has burned sufficiently low, old and young leap through the flames towards the place of the setting sun.

In the spring, people visit a “Pellar” (conjuror) as soon as there is “twelve hours’ sun,” to have “their protection renewed,” that is, to be provided with charms; and the wise man’s good offices to ward off, for the ensuing year, all evil influences of beings who work in darkness. The reason assigned for observing this particular time is, that “when the sun is come back the Pellar has more power to goodé” (do good).

In curing diseases, charms are worked against the sun to backen the complaint. Ricketty children bathed in a holy well on the three Wednesdays in May, are dipped thrice and taken round the spring as often against the sun’s course. For the cure of boils or eruptions, the afflicted crawl nine times from east to west, under a bramble, rooted at both ends. Many other examples might be given of practices regarding the sun, but are much to the same effect.

One may notice a remarkable belief, however, that if a person, by false swearing, compasses the life of another, the sun is thereafter invisible to the perjured one. This idea is so well known that to hint at a person’s inability to behold the sun is regarded as a great insult.

An observance with regard to the moon may be here mentioned. Most folks are acquainted with a practice called “washing in a dry dish,” for the cure of warts and other ailments. To get rid of warts on the hands they are shown the moon nine times on three successive nights before full moon; three times on the full, at intervals of three quarters of an hour; and thrice afterwards, on three following nights. On each occasion the patient, or rather the supplicant, looks from the moon to his hands, and from his hands to the moon—whilst rubbing them together as if washing them—and holds them towards the moon nine times, saying:—

“I wash my hands in this thy dish, O, Man in the Moon, do grant my wish, And come take away this.”

For the cure of various other ailments this charm is worked in much the same way. The above-mentioned remnants of Zabaism are suggestive of Phœnician tin-traders’ connection with old Bellerion.

There are many ancient beliefs and practices with respect to the moon still lingering in West Cornwall, which seem to be almost forgotten elsewhere. The following are a few examples amongst many.

Herbs for drying, to be used in fomentation, or for other medicinal purposes, are gathered at the full of the moon; when winter’s fruit should also be picked and stored, in order that it may retain its plumpness. Elderly persons prefer to sow their garden seeds and others during the moon’s first quarter, from the idea that they will then germinate quicker and grow stronger than on the decrease.

Timber should be felled on the “bating” of the moon, because the “sap is then down,” and the wood will be more durable.

When the old iron “chills” (lamps) were in general use, rushes for making “porvans” (wicks) were cut at the full moon, because it was believed that they were then fuller of pith and less liable to shrink than if cut at other times.

Old gentlemen who wore their hair long behind, or in “pigtails or queues,” and other persons as well, of that day, were very particular about having their heads trimmed at the time of full moon, that their hair might grow the more luxuriantly.

The first money taken of a market-day is still frequently spit on for good luck; and if silver, kept for luck-money, to be shown to the next new moon, and turned three times towards the person who shows it. Three wishes were made whilst showing the money, which the wisher turned three times from the moon towards himself.

It is considered unlucky to get the first sight of a new moon through glass, and many persons go out of doors purposely to see her for the first time, when they hold towards her a piece of silver to ensure their success whilst that moon lasts. Those who offer this kind of adoration to Luna are mostly provided with a crooked sixpence, which they call a pocket-piece, and wear as a means to retain good luck. This observance of showing money to the new moon is, probably, a vestige of an ancient rite connected with the worship of Luna or Astarte.

Another belief, which still holds good, is that when a child is born in the interval between an old moon and the first appearance of a new one, it will never live to attain to puberty. A recent observation confirms this as well to animals as children. Hence the saying of “no moon no man.” Other popular notions, among old folks, are that when a boy is born on the waning moon the next birth will be a girl, and vice versâ; they also say that when a birth takes place on the “growing of the moon,” the next child will be of the same sex. Many of these fancies, however, may be astrological notions, handed down from ancient times and common to many places. Here much of such lore has been learnt from Sibley’s “Treatise on the Occult Sciences,” which is the oracle of our western astrologers; though they seldom let their study of that and similar works be known for fear of the ridicule with which it is now the fashion to regard such pursuits.

CORNISH CONJURORS’ CHARMS AGAINST WITCHCRAFT.

The following are some of the spells supplied by West Country “Pellars” to those who seek their protection, as stated in a notice of “Cornish Observances with regard to the Sun.”

A strip of parchment, inscribed with the words SATOR AREPO TENET OPERA ROTAS, is regarded as a protection from many evils when worn as an amulet; all the more so because these magical words read the same backwards as forwards. These words also form a magical square, and can be read up or down, backwards or forwards, or any way—thus

S A T O R A R E P O T E N E T O P E R A R O T A S

At the time of an old lady’s decease, a little while ago, on her breast was found a small silk bag containing various charms; among others, a piece of parchment, about three inches square, having written on one side of it NALGAH. Under this is a pen-and-ink drawing of a figure somewhat like a bird, with two pairs of wings, a pair extended and the others folded beneath them. The creature appears to be hovering, and at the same time brooding on a large egg, sustained by one of its legs; whilst it holds a smaller egg at the extremity of its other leg, which is outstretched and long. Its head, round and small, is unlike that of a bird; from the rudeness of the sketch, and its faded state, it is difficult to trace all the outlines. Under this singular figure is the word TETRAGRAMMATON. On the reverse, in large letters,

JEHOVAH JAH, ELOHIM, SHADDAY, ADONAY, HAVE MERCY ON A POOR WOMAN.

A Pellar of great repute in this neighbourhood tells me, however, that this precious document is inscribed with two distinct charms—that the Nalgah is the figure only.

The ABRACADABRA is supplied by our “white-witches” for the cure or prevention of some diseases; the letters, arranged in the usual way, are enclosed in two intersecting triangles.

Another potent spell is a rude draft of the planetary signs for the Sun, Jupiter, and Venus, followed by a cross, pentagram, and a figure formed by a perpendicular line, and a divergent one on each side of it, united at the bottom. Under them is written, “Whosoever beareth these tokens will be fortunate and need fear no evil.”

The charms are folded in a paper on which is usually written, “By the help of the Lord these will do thee good,” and enclosed in a little bag to be worn on the breast. Bed-ridden folks have them placed in their pillows, and the conjurors visit such infirm ones yearly to “renew their protection.”

Western Pellars are ignorant of the meaning of the above formulas, but regard them as powerful words and signs that have been handed down from wise men of ancient times who followed a like profession.

There is one practitioner in the vicinity of Penzance who is well versed in Astrology, from having made this science the study of a long life.

Besides the above-mentioned counter spells to sorcery and other mysterious evils, persons are furnished with witch powders, to be cast over such children or cattle as may be ill-wished, begrudged, or “over-looked;” with regard to the latter, holding two forked (spread) fingers towards a person that has evil eyes, is believed to be a safeguard from their blasting influence.

A short time ago one might obtain blood-stones, milpreves, or snake-stones, but these are become rare; the blue stone or glass rings, in which were seen the figure of an adder, or the pattern of a snake, were much prized, because it was believed that those who wore them were by that means safe from being harmed by any of the serpent tribe, and that man or beast having been stung, if given water to drink wherein this stone had been infused, would soon recover from the poison.

Cornish folks have such confidence in their conjurors’ mysterious science, that many go a great distance to consult them, and the mere threat of “going to the Pellar” is often sufficient to procure the restitution of stolen goods, or compensation for injury; and, after all, their remedies may be as beneficial as those usually prescribed for imaginary ailments.

Most Cornish folks are familiar with the following lines, or others of the same import:—

Born on a Sunday a gentleman. Monday’s child is fair in face. Tuesday’s child is full of grace. Wednesday’s child is sour and sad. Thursday’s child is merry and glad. Friday’s child is loving and giving. Saturday’s child works hard for its living.

Another version says—

Wednesday’s child is full of woe. Thursday’s child has far to go.

The assumed principles of astrology furnish a key to the above; as the subject is supposed to be influenced according to the nature of the planet or divinity after whom the day is named, and which is regarded in medical astrology, as lord of the first house for the respective day.

ALL ON ONE SIDE, LIKE SMOOTHY’S WEDDING.

Some eighty or ninety years ago a male member of a well-known family was about to be married. He was a soft-spoken individual, and, in the days when nearly every one had a nickname, he was called and known generally as “Smoothy.” When the wedding-day came it was found that all the invited guests were his relatives and friends—not one the bride’s. Hence the saying.

“All on one side, like Smoothy’s wedding,” is often applied to cases of biassed judgment, or an unfair award from a prejudiced view of the subject.

“Smoothy” is a nickname commonly given to a double-faced, fair-spoken hypocrite,—one who runs with the hare and holds with the hounds.

PISKIES, SPRIGGANS, SMALL PEOPLE, AND KNOCKERS.

According to the Fairy belief of the old Cornish folk, the Piskey has seldom been seen in any other shape than that of a weird, wizzened-looking, little old man. As such he has often been spied of moonlight winter’s nights threshing the corn in the barns of lonely places. Boslow and Lejarn are often spoken of as being favourite haunts of the goblin. Another of his well-known pranks is to mount on the necks of the colts, where he plaits his Piskey stirrups in the winter, and rides the colts after the cows like mad in the summer. Leading the folks into the bogs, by appearing like a person with a lantern or light from a window, were of constant occurrence unless the night wanderer took the precaution to turn some garment inside out, to break the spell.

The Spriggans, quite a different class of beings, are the dourest and most ugly set of sprights belonging to the elfin tribe; they are only seen about old ruins, barrows, giant’s quoits and castles, or other places where treasure is buried, of which they have the charge. They also steal children, leaving their own ugly brats in their place, bring bad weather to blight the crops, whirlwinds over the fields of cut corn, and do much other mischief to those who meddle with their favourite haunts.

The innocent Small-people, on the contrary, are always described as being extremely beautiful by all who have had the luck to see them, holding their merry fairs and sprightly dances on the velvety turf of the greens, sheltered glades between the cairns, or in other secluded pleasant places, dressed in their bright green nether garments, sky-blue jackets, three-cornered hats on the men and pointed ones on the ladies, all decked with lace and silver bells. They are as lovely as the flowers of the fields. These good small folks often showed great kindness to those people to whom they took a fancy, and have frequently been known to come into poor cottages, divert good old bed-ridden folks with their merry pranks and gambols, and fill the air with the delicious odours of flowers, and such sweet melody as few but angels ever hear and live.

The Bockles, or Knockers, can scarcely be classed as fairies; they seem rather to be a hybrid race between ordinary ghosts and elves, as the miners believe them to be the restless souls of the Jews who formerly worked in the tin-mines of Cornwall. The tinners often hear them working when underground; sometimes, these ghostly workers may be heard even from the surface; yet they so rarely make their appearance now that we hardly know what they are like.

There are a few other mythical beings belonging to our elvin creed, but they have been so seldom seen of latter days, that very little is now known of the Buccas, Browneys, Mermaids, &c. Probably the mermaids so much dislike steam ships that the fair syrens have taken themselves off, with all their combs and glasses, to the China seas, so as to be out of the way of the fiery monsters of the deep.

OLD CORNISH WORDS.

Strangers are often puzzled to know what we Cornish people mean by some of our words. Let us take some old Cornish words still in common use, as skaw for the elder-tree; skaw-dower, water-elder; bannel, broom; skedgewith, privet; griglans, heath; padzy-paw (from padzar, four), the small grey lizard; muryan, the ant; quilkan, the frog (which retains its English name when in the water); pul-cronack (literally pool-toad) is the name given to a small fish with a head much like that of a toad, which is often found in the pools (pulans) left by the receding tide among the rocks along shore; visnan, the sand-lance; bul-horn, the shell-snail; dumble-dory, the black-beetle (but this may be a corruption of the dor-beetle). A small, solid wheel has still the old name of drucshar. Finely pulverized soil is called grute. The roots and other light matter harrowed up on the surface of the ground for burning we call tabs. Guldaize, harvest feast. Plum means soft; quail, withered; crum, crooked; bruyans, crumbs; with a few other terms more rarely used.

Many of our ordinary expressions (often mistaken for vulgar provincialisms) are French words slightly modified, which were probably introduced into the west by the old Norman families who long resided there. For instance; a large apron to come quite round, worn for the sake of keeping the under clothing clean, is called a touser (tout serre); a game of running romps, is a courant (from courir). Very rough play is a regular cow’s courant. Going into a neighbour’s for a spell of friendly chat is going to cursey (couser) a bit. The loins are called the cheens (old French, echine.) The plant sweet-leaf, a kind of St. John’s wort, here called tutsen, is the French toute saine (heal all). There are some others which, however, are not peculiar to the west, as kick-shaws (quelque chose), &c. We have also many inverted words, as swap for wasp, cruds for curds, &c. Then again we call a fly a flea; and a flea a flay; and the smallest stream of water a river.

Ishan is a genuine old Cornish word; it is only given to such dust as comes from winnowing, the result of which process is husks, chaff, &c.

Refuse, consisting of defective grains, seeds, &c., on the “tail” (leeward end) of a winnowing sheet, was, by old “winsters,” called attal.

Harvest-time reminds one of our free-hearted old farmers and their bountiful goolthise, at which all comers were welcome to eat, drink, and be merry. This name for an entertainment given on the principal corn-carrying day—generally the last—is preserved from our ancient language.

In Scilly a harvest feast is called Nicklethise.

In addition to the above we have the following terms connected with harvest work and the preparation of corn for mill or market. Dram, a swathe of cut corn; croust, the afternoon’s refreshment, generally of hot fuggans (cakes) and ale (Latin crusta).