Cornish legends

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Mount’s Bay, Lyonesse, Langarroc: Legendary Submerged Lands And Buried Towns Of Cornwall – For Ancient Pages

St. Michael’s Mount in morning – Monster4711, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

This article was first published on AncientPages.com, April 21, 2022, Mount’s Bay, Lyonesse, Langarroc: Legendary Submerged Lands And Buried Towns Of Cornwall, by zteve t evans

Cornwall, the uttermost southwestern peninsula of England, has a long, fascinating history absolutely brimming with folklore, legends, and traditions. Ancient monuments scatter the landscape, and all around the rugged coastline, traditions of smugglers, pirates and mermaids abound alongside intriguing legends of towns and land submerged by the sea or entombed under massive dunes of sand. Presented here is a brief look at three legendary places that lie buried under the sand or drowned by the sea.

The Drowned Forest And Lake Under Mount’s Bay

Mount’s Bay is home to St Michael’s Mount, a tidal island with a quaint harbour overlooked by a medieval church and a picturesque castle. It is connected to the Cornish mainland by a stone causeway at low tide. At high tide, the sea rises above the causeway cutting the Mount from the Cornish mainland, turning it into an island. According to tradition, St Michael’s Mount is where Jack the Giant Killer began his career by slaying Cormoran the Giant.

In the past, parts of Mount’s Bay were above sea level and home to woods and a body of water named Gwavas Lake. Humans and animals were believed to inhabit this area, and according to legend, on the bank of the lake was a small chapel where a holy man lived. People came to him seeking healing for ailments and agonies of the mind and body, which he cured using prayers and water from Gwavas Lake. Because of his remarkable healing powers, he became venerated as a saint, and his small chapel received a continuous stream of pilgrims seeking his aid.

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Human Activity

There are many cases in recent times where towns and villages have been deliberately flooded by humans where a change in the landscape was required for purposes such as to form a reservoir for fresh water. These are usually well-documented and their history known though folklore and legends may evolve from them.

Legends

All around the world there are also legends of towns, cities and lands that have been destroyed or lost, leaving only rumor and myths of their existence and demise.  Many such places were rich and successful, well established and populous, making their loss all the more tragic and mystifying. These legends often tell of a catastrophic natural event such as a flood caused by high tides, storms or perhaps covered by sand or snow.  Sometimes it is some geological phenomenon such as an earthquake and sometimes this is combined with a natural event or act of war. The loss of such well-established and prosperous places left a deep impression on following generations.  Myths and legends evolved to explain the cataclysmic event and very often these were carefully crafted to provide a warning to following generations of the consequences of breaking God’s laws or their excessive pride or hubris.

Myth of Origin

These places were very often situated on a site that became transformed by a disastrous natural event in t a new feature of the landscape.  An inland town situated in a valley may be covered by a watery lake.   A town situated by the sea may be flooded and drowned by the waves or covered by sand becoming a massive dune.  A town in the mountains may be covered by snow and ice becoming a glacier. The story created to explain the disaster may be mostly fictional but based on some historic cataclysm like a powerful storm, earthquake or other natural disaster that actually happened.  Sometimes these myths and legends can help archaeologists and scientists investigate real disasters that happened long ago.  In some cases such disasters are well documented from the time but the legends and myths evolve after.

Cautionary Tales

These events when combined with the mysterious origin of some well known feature in the landscape create a compelling story that can have a profound and lingering effect on those it is told to.  Especially when the narrator is a local priest or who uses the story to impress upon their audience the consequences of offending the Almighty.  Although such myths and legends are often designed to uphold Christianity, other religions and philosophies have also used such techniques for this purpose. In some case it is pagan deities or spirits that have been angered in some way by rulers or citizens.  Although warnings may be given they are ignored invoking the wrath of the powerful divinity to wreak some form of divine retribution.

Divine Vengeance

Once divine retribution is invoked the fate of the town is sealed. Often it unfolds as a weather event such a rain, sand or snow storm.  Once divine retribution manifests the end is inevitable. All that will remain will be the myths and legends of a once rich and prosperous society that was drowned, buried or destroyed along with most of its population. Perhaps a lake or some other feature of the landscape appears where the town once stood.

From this a talented storyteller can weave a tale that will work quietly among following generations for centuries that impresses and extols the danger of angering the all powerful deity. In this way a naturally occurring catastrophic event such as a storm or earthquake may be transformed into something altogether more sinister and in many ways more dangerous. Very often it becomes the judgement of God that is dispensing retribution for wrongdoing on an immoral and corrupt society. This and similar themes are quite common in these legends. Warnings of impending retribution and vengeance are offered in an attempt to change people’s behaviour but are ignored. Punishment is inflicted often destroying that society in its entirety not just the perpetrators. Sometimes a few are saved but often the innocent perish along with the guilty.

Collective Guilt

There is a concept of collective guilt that runs through generations until some chosen time when punishment is enacted. Sometimes vengeance is suspended for several generations and the deviant behaviour forgotten by people.  Sometimes it becomes part of normal behaviour.  Nevertheless, the Almighty works at his own pace and punishment eventually arrives when least expected with devastating consequences. This does seem harsh on those who were not born when the original sin was committed but it seems there is an expectation to strive to recognize and put right the wrongs of the past. The message is that the sins of one, even when committed in the past, must not be tolerated either at the time, or perpetuated in the future. What is sown will eventually be reaped in a time and in a way that suits the Almighty. This obligation to right and discontinue past wrongs does not mean that they be wiped from history or that they should be.  It is important to keep records of such wrongs and our attempts to right them to monitor our own evolution and to make sure we do not make the same mistakes again.

The All-Seeing Eye

There is a sense that the individual and collective behaviour of people is being watched by some all-seeing eye.  It sees and knows all our deeds and looks into our hearts and minds making judgements upon us. Legends such as these warn that we are always being watched and judged and even our innermost thoughts are known to the Almighty.  They emphasize we must remember and obey the laws of God and will be held answerable for any transgressions at anytime in the present or future no matter how long ago the indiscretion.  Furthermore, we have a collective responsibility that runs through the past, present and future to keep ourselves and others in society on the straight and narrow. The message is the all-seeing eye sees everything and in a manner and time that suits the Almighty we will reap what we sow and then –

“Vengeance will come!”

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Cornish Folktales: The Ghost of Rosewarne

Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay

The following is a retelling of a Cornish folktale called the Ghost of Rosewarne  from  Popular Romances of the West of England collected and edited by Robert Hunt.

The Rosewarne Estate

When the De Rosewarnes ran into financial difficulties their own financial advisor, Ezekiel Grosse, gentleman and lawyer, stepped in buying the estate for a pittance. Supposedly, he wanted to save their dignity, but got himself a very good bargain in the process.  Maybe the De Rosewarnes were unlucky, but the feeling was they were more than a little naive as there was more than a hint that Ezekiel, as their financial adviser was less than honest in dealing with the transactions of their estate and it all seemed fall so neatly for him.

Nevertheless, as soon as the Rosewarnes moved out he moved in but he did not find things entirely to his liking.   At night he heard strange noises in some of the rooms and would rush in to see what was there, but there was always nothing to be seen. Sometimes he heard voices talking in the corridor but there was never anyone there. One night as he lay in bed just, as he was dozing off, he heard footsteps approach his bed. Terrified he pulled the covers over his head but he could still hear people whispering to each other. A cold and unearthly atmosphere pervaded the whole house and most people would have fled in terror, but Ezekiel was determined he would not be chased from his ill-gotten estate by fear of the supernatural.

The Ghost

One evening after dusk as he walked in his garden looking at the fullness of the moon he encountered a very old and worn man who approached him but faded into nothing and was gone in an instant.  This happened several times and always in the garden just after dusk. Ezekiel would simply ignore the apparition to begin with but as its appearances increased it also began appearing in the house and became annoying and irritating to him.

One night as Ezekiel was working late in his office the specter appeared and approached him making strange hand signals.  Startled and annoyed. Ezekiel jumped from his seat and confronted the ghost.

“What in the name of God do you want of me!”  he demanded.

“Ezekiel Grosse, I have come to show you where the Rosewarne gold is hidden.  Are you interested?” replied the ghost.

Few people who have walked the Earth have a greater interest in gold than Ezekiel Grosse, yet even he trembled in fear as he faced the ghost listening to its eerie voice.  He looked longingly at the dreadful specter desperately wanting to know the secret of the Rosewarne treasure, but hardly daring to breathe let alone speak.

The ghost stared at him through baleful eyes making Exekiel quail and then lifting a bony finger beckoned him to follow.  Through his fear, Ezekiel was rooted to the spot and could not move, even though he desperately wanted to follow.

“Come, Ezekiel Grosse,” beckoned the specter again, but Ezekiel was paralyzed.

“Gold, silver, jewels, the Rosewarne treasure, come Ezekiel, come!”  whispered the ghost.

“Where, where!” gasped Ezekiel.

“Follow and you will see the treasure of the De Rosewarnes!” but despite his lust Ezekiel was paralyzed with fear and could not move.

“Follow me, I command thee!” shrieked the ghost.

Ezekiel felt his legs move but it was not by his power but that of the ghost and he followed the specter from the house and into the grounds of the house and beyond.

The ghost led him on through the night until they reached a small dell in a distant part of the Rosewarne estate.  In the center of the dell a small cairn had been built using granite boulders and here the ghost stopped, pointed to the stones and said,

“Ezekiel Grosse I know your lust for gold for I too once had it.  I won more gold than you can imagine and it is all buried here underneath these stones.  

Ezekiel Grosse  if you would win this gold  you will glitter with the evil ones of this world and when you are at your happiest then I will visit you again.”

With that,  the ghost disappeared before the fearful, unbelieving eyes of Ezekiel Grosse who stood trembling in a strange mixture of fear and gold lust and the latter won.

“Devil or ghost , I will have the gold” he vowed, but as he spoke an eerie laugh echoed all around him.

Buried Treasure

Ezekiel returned to Rosewarne where he reflected upon all that had happened.  He decided that at the earliest possible opportunity he could go about the task unseen and pry up the stones and dig underneath.

Biding his time, but bubbling with restrained excitement, he waited a few days and then at dusk went down to the cairn carrying a large crow bar and began levering the stones up.   With this done .he dug up the soil where they had lain. The soil was soft and he soon struck something metallic but the dark was coming down fast and he could barely see. Nevertheless working by touch he cleared the soil and feeling around realized it was an urn of some kind but it was now too dark to see and he had not brought a light. He decided he would carefully recover it, replace the stones and make it look as if it had not been disturbed.

Not wanting to draw attention to himself and trying hard to suppress his excitement he waited for two more nights to pass before he returned to the cairn.  This time he was better prepared and quickly moved the stones and dug down to find the urn by the light of lamp he had brought with him. He soon uncovered the urn and found it bigger than he had thought and made of bronze and when he looked inside he saw it was full to the top with gold coins.   He tried to lift it out of the hole but it was far too heavy. Instead he filled his pockets with as many coins as he could and then reburied the urn intending to return for the rest the following night.

Returning home to Rosewarne he acted as calm and as nonchalant as he could so as not to cause his servants suspicion.  He returned to the cairn the following night and the night after that to bring back the rest of the gold pieces. He was so careful and secretive no one not even his servants had any hint of what he was up to.  Indeed, the only noticeable difference that up to yet could be discerned from his activities was that the ghost had ceased to appear and trouble him from the second he had shown the location of the treasure to Ezekiel.

Birds of a Feather

It was with great surprise that the neighbors and nearby gentry looked on in bemusement as Ezekiel spent lavishly of his secret treasure.  He made improvements to Rosewarne and filled it with expensive furniture and fittings and began to develop the estate. He even brought himself fine clothes and gave up practicing law making a great show of his new found wealth to his neighbors and associates.

Of course, people being people are attracted to wealth even though he was well known as a person of dubious, greedy and sly character. They say birds of a feather flock together and it proved to be the case at Rosewarne where a flock of gentrified scoundrels gathered around Ezekiel Grosse.  Thanks to his money he became something of a celebrity in the locality and people would speak admiringly of his long struggle as a lawyer to make it big, forgetting about all the cheating he had employed in the past.

For his part Ezekiel lived up to the part of the gentleman landowner to the full.  He even preached the value of honesty and integrity to his fawning flock and in return received the admiration that is so often given to one who is fabulously rich beyond compare.

All his old tricks and dishonesty were forgotten. and he spent lavishly on entertaining his flock.  These entertainments grew increasingly more seductive to those who counted themselves fortunate enough to be among his inner circle of friends. The Lord of Rosewarne, became the Lord of the West who everyone bowed low to – one of the chosen few – who owned more of riches of the Earth than they could ever possibly use, yet still lusted after more.

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve arrived and Ezekiel gathered together his flock at Rosewarne for a very special evening he had prepare.  Their host was relishing being the center of their attention and in the kitchen his servants were all working hard for his pleasure and emulating their superiors in their attitude.  Everything was going splendidly and the guests were thoroughly enjoying themselves.  Ezekiel looked on and saw the influence his wealth had and he was well pleased.

As he reflected upon his pleasure and power the atmosphere in his hall began to grow cold and everyone stopped dancing and shivered as if someone has walked over their graves.  The light became strange and they looked in each other’s faces and saw a deathly paleness and in their eyes the cloud of death.

In the middle of the hall amid the dancers a strange old man appeared with an angry demeanor.  No one saw where he came from – he was not there and then he was. The guests moved back from the specter and made a path from him to Ezekiel.  The old man stared at Ezekiel in cold, stony, silence. Ezekiel stood transfixed to the spot in terror as the terrible apparition pointed at him.  Although it was only for a minute it seemed like an age and then it was gone.

Ezekiel, freed from his paralysis and in an effort to show he was unafraid let out a roar of mocking laughter saying,

“Ha! How do you like my little Christmas play?   Scared you all didn’t it? Ha, you look like terrified rabbits!  Butler pass around the mulled wine. Come, my friends, dance on, be very merry! It was nought but a little play to entertain you all!”

His guests were deeply disconcerted with the appearance of the old man and try as he might Ezekiel couldn’t rouse them to dance, or laughter.  An overpowering atmosphere of unhomeliness remained that made everyone feel uncomfortable. One by one, they made their excuses, bid him him a false Merry Christmas and left well and truly satisfied that all was not well at Rosewarne.

Turning Point

His Christmas Eve party was a turning point in the fortunes and popularity of Ezekiel Grosse.  He put on an air of nonchalance and gaiety as if the incident had never happened but his friends had not forgotten and were convinced of its reality.   He organized more parties and balls but each and every time the same aged old man would appear silently out of nowhere in their midst and staring coldly, point at him.  He never said a word but the sheer aura of power he exuded made everyone dare not to utter a single word, or indeed, hardly breathe.

Ezekiel would make up all manner of lies  to explain the incidents. He would claim the old man was an old friend with a mental impairment that he had represented as a lawyer, who was also deaf and dumb. As he tried to explain, the old man would stand before him, point at him and laugh maniacally and joyfully in his face and then vanish leaving an extremely unpleasant atmosphere of unhomeliness.

His friends made excuses and left despite the earliness of the night and refused to attend his lavish events.  They began to avoid and shun him leaving him all alone. Whereas once he had been the center of their attention, now he was alone despite all of the finery of Rosewarne and his great wealth.  The only friend that remained to him was a man named John Call who was his faithful clerk.

The oppressive  presence of the specter increased more and more and was so strong it did not just remain in the house but followed him outside of it.  Everywhere he went the old man appeared at his side and although he could see it others saw nothing but nevertheless felt its presence.

Shunned

Ezekiel went from being the most sought after and finest gentleman in the county to being completely shunned and avoided by the gentry.   He grew pale and miserable and walked with a drooping back. He became the very personification of misery and being in terror all the time, jumped in alarm at the slightest thing.

Eventually, he began to beg his spectral companion to leave him alone.  To begin with the ghost would not listen seeming content to watch him suffer.   At last the ghost told him that he would set him free on the condition that Ezekiel hand the entire Rosewarne estate and his treasure to the person that he selected and that a proper legal contract would be drawn up to make the deal binding.    Ezekiel readily agreed but when the ghost indicated that it was John Call who would be the benefactor, he began to try to twist and get out of the contract.  The ghost would not allow him to get away with it and shortly the deal was done and John Call became the master of the Rosewarne estate and its treasure.

The Revenge of the De Rosewarnes

After Ezekiel had been legally dispossessed of the estate and treasure the ghost revealed that he was an ancestor of the Rosewarnes and it had been he who had built their fortune.  When he had been a young man he had traveled much and traded in foreign lands and accumulated much wealth, but the lust for gold had got the better of him. Instead of passing it on to his family he had hidden it before he died intending no one else to benefit.

Now he had been sent back to atone for his greed and to punish Ezekiel for fraudulently obtaining the Rosewarne estate and putting its rightful owners into poverty.  The punishment had consisted of the systematic gratifying of his greed, the pampering of his pride until he reached the highest point in society and then causing him to be shunned and avoided.  His status was systematically destroyed making a pitiful exhibition of him for all to see and the estate taken from him and given to a more deserving man.

Ezekiel did not live much longer in misery after that.   He was found dead and it was said that it was a violent death with reports of deep scratches and dark bruising all over his body.  Some even say the specter of Rosewarne was seen leading a group of demons that came and bore away the soul of Ezekiel Grosse. They heard him laugh all through that night having revenged his family and righted a wrong, though whether this freed the soul of the Ghost of Rosewarne from his own doom, we do not know.

© 05/12/2018 zteve t evans

Reference, Attributions and Further Reading

Copyright December 5th, 2018 zteve t evans

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Cornish Folktales: The Witch of Treva

The following is a retelling of a Cornish folktale called The Witch of Treva from Popular Romances of the West of England  by Robert Hunt.

There was once a an old woman who was deeply skilled in the arts of necromancy and lived in a tiny hamlet called Treva in Cornwall.  She could make powerful, spells, incantations and charms and people in the neighborhood were terrified of her.

Nevertheless, although the local people held her in fear and awe her husband remained singularly unimpressed by her witchery and refused to believe in such things.  Instead he was more concerned about the housekeeping and the cooking especially when he came home from work when he would demand his dinner the instant he came in.

One day after a hard day’s work he came home looking forward to a good dinner which he expected to be cooked and ready, on the table for him to tuck into as soon as he walked through the door.  Imagine his shock and annoyance when he discovered there was no dinner.  In fact there was no meat, no vegetables or potatoes or any other kind of food in the house at all.

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Cruel Coppinger the Cornish Smuggler

First Published on the #FolkloreThursday, web site, February 17th, 2016 under the title: Cornish Smugglers:  The Notorious Cruel Coppinger

Cruel Coppinger

One of the most extraordinary and fearsome figures in Cornish folklore and legend was Cruel Coppinger.  He is thought by many to have been a real person who attained semi-legendary status from his brutal, criminal behaviour and leadership of a ruthless band of smugglers and pirates.

abstract-772537_19201

Pixabay – Image by natureworks – CC0 Public Domain

Shipwreck

According to Cornish legend Coppinger was himself a victim of a shipwreck by a massive storm wrecked his ship off the Cornish coast. As was the practice the local people gathered at the shore to see what they could claim when the storm died down. They watched the doomed vessel sinking and the lightning flashes revealed the dark figure of a huge man leaping from the ship and striding through the wild waves to the shore.  On reaching the shore he grabbed the cloak from an old woman, roughly shoving her to the floor and then leapt on the back of a horse a young woman had ridden down to the shore.  With her still sat on the horse and him behind her shouting furiously in some unknown language, the terrified steed fled and naturally made its way to its home with them both on its back.

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Cornish Folklore: The Legendary Tom Bawcock of Mousehole
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Cornish Folklore: The Legendary Tom Bawcock of Mousehole

The sea and the rugged Cornish coastline dotted with fishing villages and harbors is a fertile breeding ground of many legends and traditions.  For many of the Cornish folk living around the coast, the sea provided them with a means to make a living by fishing.  As well as selling their catch for small profits it was the basic ingredient of their diet.  To catch the fish they needed suitable weather so their livelihoods were inextricably linked to the sea and the weather.

georges_jean_marie_haquette

Georges Jean-Marie Haquette (1854 – 1906) – Public Domain

Stormy Weather

Tom Bawcock was a legendary fisherman in the 16th century who lived in the Cornish fishing village of Mousehole. Like many other local people, he made his living from fishing the seas around Cornwall.  According to legend during one wintertime the area was afflicted by a series of storms and bad weather which prevented the local fishermen from putting out to sea.  This is said to have happened around Christmas time and the fishing boats remained stationary in the harbor. This bad weather continued over a prolonged period and the local people could not catch the fish that consisted of their main diet and began to starve.

Brave Tom Bawcock

According to local folklore this state of affairs continued for some time and by the 23rd of December with the village people in dire straights, one man decided something had to be done.  Tom Bawcock decided he would chance the weather and take his boat out to try and make a catch. Bravely he took his fishing boat out in the most appalling of weather and horrendous seas but good fortune was with him.  He managed to drop his nets and haul in a huge catch of fish.  When he returned he found he had several different kinds of fish all mixed together.

baked_stargazy_pieBy Krista – Baked stargazy pie – CC BY 2.0

Stargazy Pie

These were all placed together in one big pie with egg and potatoes providing enough to feed the entire village.  They called the dish stargazy pie.   In this dish, some of the fish heads are deliberately placed to poke through the pastry as if looking at the stars and the tails protrude as well so that it looks like the fish are leaping in and out as they would in water.  Placing them this way is also said to let the fish oils run back into the pie improving the taste and nutritional value.

Tom Bawcock’s Eve

Naturally, the villagers were delighted and Tom became their hero. A festival has been held on 23rd December which became known as Tom Bawcock’s Eve ever since in the village of Mousehole. During the evening of the 23rd, a huge stargazy pie is the centerpiece of a parade through Mousehole accompanied by villagers carrying lanterns and the pie is then eaten.  But even the Cornish weather can affect this and sometimes the lantern parade is postponed if the weather is particularly bad.

tombawcockseve

The lantern parade for Tom Bawcock’s Eve – Public Domain

There was once an older festival held in the village during the end of December which also featured a fish pie made with several varieties of seafood and it may be that Tom Bawcock’s Eve has evolved from that. Over the years the festival has grown and since 1963 the famous Christmas festive illuminations of Mousehole are included adding extra color and sparkle.

The origin of Tom Bawcock

There are alternative theories as to how the festival originated.  One proposed by a nautical archaeologist, Robert Morton Nance (1873–1959) an authority in his time on the Cornish language and one of the founders of the Old Cornish Society put forward the idea that the name Bowcock  was derived from the French Beau Coq. He thought the festival was from an era that pre-dated Christianity and thought the cock in pagan times was the bringer of light or the sun in the morning with its crowing.

Another explanation is that the name Bawcock in Middle English is a nickname for someone who is regarded as a good fellow and Tom a generic name used to describe any man.  So Tom Bawcock would mean any good fellow and perhaps, in this case, any good fellow, who was brave enough to risk his life to feed the village.  It could have been a kind of Harvest Festival celebration in honor of any or all of the village’s brave fishermen if read like this.

The Devil in a Pie!

There is a tradition that the Devil never went to Cornwall.  According to Robert Hunt, after the Old Nick crossed the River Tamar he noticed the Cornish people liked to put everything in pies.  Not fancying his chances he decided to hightail it back  before they decided to place him in one!

References, Attributions and Further Information

Copyright zteve t evans

 

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Cornish Folklore: The Bells of Forrabury

There are many legends and folktales from around the world that tell of sunken bells that have either been sunk in the sea or in a lake inland.  This folktale comes from Boscastle, Cornwall in England, which is a fishing village and harbor and part of the civil parish of Forrabury and Minster and tells how the bells of Forrabury Church were lost to the sea. According to the legend there was once a degree of rivalry between the church of Forrabury and the nearby church of Tintagel whose bells were said to have pealed merrily at the marriage of King Arthur and most solemnly when he died.

The Captain and the Fisherman

The church of Forrabury had no bells and the parishioners decided that their church should also have a fine peal of bells and so they commissioned a Spanish foundry to cast a set of bells that would surpass their neighbor’s.  When the bells were cast they were blessed and carefully transported to Forrabury on a ship under the command of a Spanish captain.  The ship sailed under fair winds from Spain to England then along the rugged coast of Cornwall under the guidance of a local fisherman who was familiar with the dangers of the coastline and a good safe voyage was made.  When the ship arrived the bells of Tintagel rang out a welcome.  The pilot on hearing them realized they were safely at their destination and went down on his knees to give thanks to God for their safe keeping and the speed of their journey.

The captain was a surly fellow and laughed at the pilot, mocking him and calling him a superstitious fool.  He told the pilot that their safe and swift journey was down to a combination of his own knowledge,  the skill and hard work of his captaincy, and the hard work of the crew. He told him that soon they would come to a happy and successful end to the voyage thanks to themselves alone and pored scorn on the idea of any divine intervention.  As he finished berating the fisherman he uttered an oath and profanity to end his speech.

The fisherman told the captain to moderate his language and show gratitude to God for their safe voyage.  The captain swore and laughed and continued to insist that the only one to thank for their safe and speedy voyage was themselves and uttered a string of expletives and mocked the fisherman mercilessly.  The fisherman shook his head and said, “May God forgive you!”

The Weather Changes

Now, the seas off the Cornish coast can be changeable.  A ship’s captain may believe that because the voyage has encountered mild seas and favorable winds all will be well the entire journey.  However, a wise captain will wait until he is safely ashore before judging the quality of the voyage and will always treat the sea and weather with respect knowing they at the bidding of God.  So when the seas and weather suddenly changed within sight of the harbor this would have come as no surprise to an experienced mariner such as the fisherman and change it did.   As the weather changed and the seas grew dangerously wild a huge wave rampaged towards the ship carrying the Forrabury bells.

The Bells of Forrabury

A vast throng of local people had come out to the harbor to welcome the bells.  As the captain was uttering his profanities they watched in awe and fear as a great swell in the sea far out beyond the ship formed into a massive wave.   This then swept towards the shore catching the ship bearing the bells tossing it to and fro and finally overwhelming it and sinking it close to the shore.  As the vessel sank the horrified watchers from the shore heard the sound of the bells muffled by the water like a death knell and indeed it was.  The only person who survived the sinking of the ship was the good fisherman with the captain and everyone else on board going down with the ship.  And so it is said that when the storms rage and the wild waves race across the sea to batter that part of the Cornish coast the dull clanging of the bells can be heard rising from the depths of the foamy ocean.  Their muffled tone, though dulled by the water, ring out a warning  to the wicked and the profane to change their ways. The church of Forrabury did not get its fine bells to better those of its neighbor and perhaps there is another lesson in that.

© 01/11/2016 zteve t evans

References, Attributions and Further Reading

Copyright November 1st, 2016 zteve t evans

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Cormoran, the Giant of St Michael’s Mount

St. Michael’s Mount is a tidal island that lies just in Mount’s Bay, off the coast of Cornwall and  a short distance from the town of Marazion.  At high tide it becomes an island and when the tide goes out it can be reached from Marazion by a short stroll across a stone causeway.   Looking very much like the scene from a fairy tale the mount rises up out of Mount’s Bay and is crowned with a castle.  Below the castle lies a cluster of houses and a small harbour where the causeway runs from Marazion connecting it to the Cornish mainland.

 
Many centuries ago Mount’s Bay was above water and  once home to a forest that.  It is not known exactly what happened but the forest is now under the sea. Whether the land sank or the sea rose is not known, but this land is said to have been drowned by the sea in an event that was possibly similar to a tsunami. The petrified remains of the trees  can sometimes still be seen after storms.

Cormoran the giant

Many years before the flood the forest was said to be the home of birds, animals and probably humans.  But there was also giants and the biggest of all was Cormoran and there are many tales concerning him and many versions of the same tale but in Cornish folklore it is Cormoran, with the help of his wife who built the Mount with the name “St Michael’s” added later from a different legend.

 
In the middle of the forest was one huge white rock and one day while roaming the forest Cormoran came across it and taking a liking to the place decided to built a high hill of white rocks and to make it his home.  His idea was to look out from the heights of the hill over the countryside keeping an eye on what was going on all around.

Building the Mount

It was a mammoth task he had set himself but he knew just what he wanted and he cut, shaped and sorted the slabs of granite using only the white.  Those that had a tinge of green, grey or pink he rejected.  Cormoran had a wife by the name of Cormelian who was a very conscientious and hard working giantess. Now Cormoran was a lazy fellow and he made poor Cormelian carry all the blocks of granite from the quarry to the site while he put his feet up and went to sleep.

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Pixabay – By Efraimstochter – CC0 Public Domain

Cormelian helps

Now Cormelian worked at the task conscientiously putting each slab of white granite in her apron, carrying it to the site and putting it in place.  She soon found it to be very hard work and began thinking that the slabs of green, grey or pink granite would look much prettier than just white.   They were easier for her to get to and not so far to carry and she was beginning to get tired and bored with carrying slabs while her husband snored and slept.  She grew increasingly frustrated and resentful and the work was taking days and days. One day while Cormoran snored she picked up a huge green slab and placing it in her apron and carried it to the growing mound of stones as quickly as she could lest he should wake.   Just as she was about to put the stone in place Cormoran opened one eye saw what she was doing.

 
He was furious with her but instead of raging and shouting crept up behind her and struck her such a blow on the back of her head that she staggered. Her apron string broke and the huge green slab fell to the ground.  There it remains in that exact same spot today and no human could ever move it.  The sea rose or the land sank and the area became inundated with the sea and is how we find it today on the beach.

Cormoran and the Lord of Pengersick

Cormoran had a very hideous appearance.  As well as being very ugly he only had one eye and that was situated in the middle of his forehead.  He had a large mouth with a few yellow, broken teeth left, but most were now gone.   His hideous appearance and sheer size made the local people terrified of him.  He was also the most habitual thief taking whatever he wanted from anyone.

 
All the local people and farmers were frightened of him and he knew it and used to his advantage. When he was hungry he would stride the short distance from the Mount to the mainland and steal the best sheep, pigs and cattle, throwing them over his shoulder and striding home to enjoy eating them. The local farmers suffered sorely from this thievery but were helpless to prevent it.

 
Now it came to pass that one day Cormoran met his match, well more than his match.  The estate of the Lord of Pengersick lay nearby and it was well known that his lordship was away in foreign lands in the east. Cormoran would take advantage of this raiding the estate for the best sheep, pigs and cattle in all of Cornwall. One day Cormoran thought he would raid his lordships livestock so setting out from the Mount he strode across to Pengersick Cove which was the nearest and quickest way to the estate.

 
In the past Cormoran had stolen a great deal of livestock from Pengersick and had no fear of any confrontation with the local people or the lord.   His sheer size and hideous appearance had always frightened them off and he laughed at the thought of it. He feared no human.  He had no time for any of them only had respect for giants like himself, but especially the giant of Trecrobben Hill who was his friend.

 
Now it just so happened that the Lord of Pengersick had returned from his travels in the eastern lands where he was said to have learned much of the ancient arts of magic and sorcery. It is told that by the use of these arts he knew Cormoran was coming and was ready for him.   His servants had told him about the giant’s thieving and his lordship resolved to teach him a lesson.

 
So Cormoran waded ashore thinking he would quickly snaffle a sheep or a cow for an easy meal and stride home to enjoy his ill gotten fayre. Now as he stepped ashore a funny thing happened to him that had never happened before.  He began to feel really queasy in the stomach and his head went all funny inside and he felt confused and bewildered.  He thought perhaps the strong sun had affected him but others say it was the Lord of Pengersick who through magic arts was watching his every move and had thrown a spell on him, but Cormoran had no inkling of this.  All Cormoran knew was he felt decidedly peculiar and unwell but things were about to get very strange indeed.

 
Forcing himself to keep his mind on his goal of stealing his dinner he decided to catch one of his lordship’s cattle that were peacefully grazing nearby.  Still feeling decidedly wobbly he crept up to one and tried to grasp it round the neck.  To his surprise the cow was as slippery as an eel and he began floundering around trying to grasp it but it kept slipping out of his grip.

 
Cormoran was now feeling really woozy and very confused and bewildered.  He began losing his temper and gave up trying to catch the cow.  Instead out of desperation and spite he grabbed its calf, which although also slippery, was smaller and he managed to master it.  Tying its legs together he threw it around his neck and and tried to hurry home to the Mount for a good dinner.

 
He was still feeling strange and funny in his head but as he staggered home he noticed something else strange that was happening.  For his long legs the distance back to his home was not great and he usually managed it with ease but now something was happening he could not explain.   No matter how fast he tried to walk, or how long he made his strides he did not seem to be getting very far.

 
Looking around him the countryside appeared different and peculiar, but he could not say why, or was even sure of where he was.   He was becoming exhausted and seemed to have got nowhere but at last he saw Pengersick Cove, but in the sea was a great black rock which he could not ever remember seeing before.  Confused and bewildered he thought he must have taken a wrong path and he tried to turn around and go back the way he came.

 

To his shock and growing horror he found he could not turn around and could not even walk backwards.  he found himself being dragged towards the black rock by some invisible force.  He laid down and dug his heels in the ground but the rock still dragged him towards it closer and closer.  Soon the invisible force had dragged him near enough for him to stretch his arms out thinking to hold himself from the rock, but he found his hands were now stuck fast to it.  No matter how hard he tugged and pulled and twisted he could not free his hands from the rock.  He was stuck fast and now he was panicking.

 

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Pixabay – By LoggaWiggler – CC0 Public Domain

To make matters worse the calf he was carrying around his neck was also panicking kicking him and bellowing and soon he was covered in cuts and bruises but his hands were stuck to the rock and could do nothing to free the calf or fend it off.  Soon he could feel himself turning cold.  His hands on the stone started to stiffen followed by his arms and his back and then his legs. Soon all his body felt as rigid and as solid as stone, but all the while his senses grew keener enhancing his fear.  Fear gripped him as he thought he would now become petrified solid.

 
It is said the Lord of Pengersick with his magic arts saw all this and was well pleased with the spell he had put on Cormoran and decided to leave him there till the next morning to teach him not to go thieving his livestock.   So Cormoran was left to stand as still and rigid and cold as stone in the bay with the calf kicking and bellowing until morning. The tide came in and the water rose up to his neck and he feared he would drown but he did not and then the tide went out again.

 
In the morning Cormoran was still well and truly stuck to the stone and could not pull or twist his hands free.  The Lord of Pengersick, thinking he would teach him another lesson arrived on his horse and began berating Cormoran and gave him a severe tongue lashing making the giant quake.  However his lordship was not finished with Cormoran and dismounting from his horse gave the giant a severe thrashing with his stick.

 
So severely and so viciously was Cormoran beaten that he screamed and writhed in agony.  He struggling so hard that he pulled the skin from his hands to get free from the rock that had held him and ran into the sea striding rapidly through the waves to his home on St Michael’s Mount.  There he nursed his hands in misery for many a day until they healed.  Never again did Cormoran steal livestock from his lordship’s land though he still raided the other farms in the area.

 
Cormoran’s hands eventually healed up but during that time he made the life of his poor wife, Cormelian, a proper misery.  As well as having sore hands and bruises and weals across his back, his pride had been hurt from the lesson the Lord of Pengersick had given him. He was mortified about what the other giants would think and poor Cormelian had to endure his bad temper for many a day to her dismay.

The death of Cormelian

Now Cormelian was a very kind and good-natured giantess and was always working hard looking after the home and her grumpy, bad-tempered husband.  It was thanks to her that the worst of his bad behaviour was curbed. Her one weakness was her excessive inquisitiveness.   She was not really nosy and she never did anyone any harm, but her curiosity always seemed to get the better of her and this was to prove tragic.

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Pixabay – By goldfaun – CC0 Public Domain

 
Cormoran  was great friends with the Trecrobben Hill giant on the mainland and they would borrow things and lend things of each other as is the way with good friends.  Now when one of them wanted to borrow something they would shout across to each other and one would simply throw the other what was required, which would sail for miles high in the air for the other to catch.

 
Cormoran wore hobnailed boots on his great big feet and one day he could feel a nail sticking in his foot.   He shouted across to his friend to throw him his cobbling-hammer.  His friend duly obliged  and lobbed the hammer high in the air.

 
Cormelian was busy working in the house and hearing Cormoran shouting ran out in her inquisitiveness to see what was happening.  Running out from the dark house into bright sunshine her eyes were dazzled. Although Cormoran shouted a warning she did not see the hammer coming and it struck her full on top of her head killing her instantly.  She fell down in front of Cormoran who let out a great howl and the giant of Trecrobben Hill raced down to see what had happened.

 
The two giants wept and hugged each other and hugged and shook poor Cormelian trying to bring her back to life but she was as dead as stone.  They wailed and cried so much that they caused a gale that wrecked two ships upon the sea and blew the roofs of many of the houses in Marazion but all to no avail and all that was left to do was bury her.

 
Now although Cormoran was a grumpy old giant and very often mistreated Cormelian he loved her in his own way and was never the same after he lost her.  His friend from Trecrobben Hill was also devastated as he had never intended anyone should get hurt let alone killed.  Together the two giants buried Cormelian, but where the grave may be is not known for sure. Some say it was on the Mount in the courtyard, others say the two of them lifted up Chapel Rock and laid her to rest underneath, but others say they gave her to the sea.

Jack the Giant killer

Cormoran met his own death some years later at the hands of a local lad who came to specialize in killing giants and became known as Jack the Giant-Killer.   After the death of his wife Cormoran had no one to rein him in and although he avoided the Lord of Pengersick’s livestock he raided all the other farms in the locality all the more.  One day the local farmers became so annoyed with him they convened a meeting in Penzance to discuss what they should do.

 
After a great deal of arguing and talking an idea was proposed that they all accepted mainly because none could think of anything better.  Over the years Cormoran had accumulated a great deal of treasure that he had stolen from the neighbourhood. It was proposed that anyone who could get rid of Cormoran for ever would be given this considerable treasure trove as a reward.   Although no one believed anyone would be foolhardy enough to fight the giant, or strong enough to defeat him.  Certainly none of them were brave enough to try.   Nevertheless they put out advertisements searching for such a person but no one seemed interested or had the courage to try.

 
Eventually just as they were giving up on the idea to their surprise and amusement a simple farmer’s boy by the name of Jack volunteered to have a go.  Although no one had faith that he could accomplish the task they were desperate so they agreed and he took up the challenge.

 
That night Jack took a small boat and paddled over to the Mount while Cormoran was asleep.  Working fast but quietly he dug a deep pit on the path the giant used everyday that ran down from his home.  As dawn broke he stood outside the giant’s door and blew three loud notes on his horn.  Waking with a start, Cormoran rushed outside to see what all the commotion was.  As soon as he steps out the door Jack starts shouting at him and taunts him.  Furious Cormoran chases Jack down the path, but the rising sun dazzles him and he does not see the pit Jack had dug.

 
Jack, knowing where the pit is leaps over it as Cormoran is about to grab him and the giant blinded by the sun falls into it to his surprise.  Turning quickly Jack drives his pickaxe into the skull of the giant killing him instantly and that was the end of Cormoran the Giant of St Michael’s Mount. But for every ending there is a beginning.  Jack claims his reward and that is how he began his career as the famous giant-killer.

 

Return of the giants

 

These days there are no more giants in or around Mount’s Bay though tales of them remain.  Perhaps one day the water will recede from the bay and the forest will return and giants will again live in it and on the Mount, but I don’t suppose the local farmers would be very pleased!

© 24/01/2016 zteve t evans

References and Attributions

Copyright 24/01/2016 zteve t evans

 

 

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The revenge of the Mermaid of Padstow

The Doom Bar of Padstow

Over the ages the Cornish people evolved their own unique traditions, folklore and legends full of smugglers, pirates, giants and mermaids. One such example is the folktale of the Mermaid of Padstow which offers an explanation of how the Doom Bar, a large sandbar, that has accounted for many shipwrecks, was created.

The Doom Bar of Padstow lies in the estuary of the River Camel on the north coast of Cornwall.  It is a sandbar that has been a hazard for ships for many centuries wrecking many that sailed accidently upon it, or were forced by storms.  The term, Doom Bar is derived from Dunbar Sands which it was once called and dunebar, or sand dune.  A part of the eastern part is thought to have been above water in the distant past and covered in forest about 4,000 years ago that was eventually covered by sand and dunes and a rise in sea levels the cause of which is unknown.  The area it covers and its shape can vary depending on wind and tides and there are several traditions and legends about how it was created and two involve mermaids.

The Mermaid of Padstow

Mermaids are strange creatures and can be perilous for humans who encounter them.  They are sometimes seen as harbingers of doom bringing storms, drownings and shipwrecks.  Sometimes they are immoral temptresses winning the hearts of young men and luring them into the sea to their deaths, or never to be seen again on land.

One folk tale told by Enys Tregarthen tells how a curse from a dying mermaid created the Doom Bar in revenge for her murder by a local man named Tristram Bird.  According to the tale He had brought a new gun and gone down to Hawker’s Cove to shoot seals with it.   As he was hunting he found a beautiful young woman sitting on a rock, singing a sweet song and brushing her hair with a golden comb.

Mr Bird was entranced by her song and beauty and fell in love with her.  Approaching her he begged her to be his wife but the woman refused.  Deeply hurt by her rejection he shot her with his gun.  It was only then he realised that she was a mermaid and that had been the reason for her rejecting him.  There was nothing he could do to save her and as she died she cursed the harbour from Hawker’s Cove to Trebetherick Bay laying a “doom bar” across it.  Immediately a terrific storm hit the estuary and when it subsided a bar of sand lay across it covered by wrecked ships and dead sailors.  Ever since then the Doom Bar of Padstow has been causing a hazard for shipping ever since.

Another tradition told in the ballad, The Mermaid of Padstow a local man called Tom, or Tim Yeo killed a seal which turned out to be a mermaid.  Another explanation given by John Betjeman tells how a mermaid was found by a local man who fell in love with him.  He being mortal could not be with her in the sea for long.  She could not stay on land for long and so they were doomed to remain separated.  Nevertheless,  she was desperately in love with him and tried to entice him beneath the sea to live with her forever.  He was not ready for such a fate and rejected her but she tried to pull him in the sea to be with her.  He only escaped by shooting her.  Enraged by pain and rejection she grabbed a handful of sand and flung it towards Padstow.  From this handful of sand, more sand accumulated around it and the Doom Bar grew to what it is now.

Shipwrecks

Since records began in the 19th century there have been over six hundred shipping incidents on the Doom bar and most of these have resulted in wrecks. Two of the most notable wrecks on the Doom Bar was HMS Whiting, in 1816, a 12 gun Royal Navy warship ran aground there  and in 1895, the Antoinette, a three masted sailing vessel of 1,118 tons, making it the largest vessel to be wrecked so far.   To make it safe for navigation the vessel was blown up with explosives resulting in a cloud of sand and smoke that could be seen for miles.  However, in February 2010 the shifting sands revealed the remains of a large wooden vessel believed to be the Antoinette

Perilous

As with many folk tales the legend of the Mermaid of Padstow strives to explain the creation of a natural feature of the local environment in simple terms.  Many a good ship has floundered on the Doom Bar and even in modern times it needs to be approached with care and respect or it can prove perilous.  The same can be said about mermaids for they too can be perilous!

© 13/01/2016 zteve t evans

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Copyright January 13th 2016 zteve t evans

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Corineus the Trojan: First Duke of Cornwall

Descendant of Trojans

In medieval legend Corineus was held to be a descendant of the Trojans and a great warrior who became the founder and first Duke of Cornwall. Geoffrey of Monmouth in his book The history of the Kings of Britain identifies him as the leader of a group of warriors descended from a group of Trojans who settled along the coasts of the Tyrrhenian Sea in exile after the fall of Troy. In a dream Brutus had been told by the goddess Diana to seek out Albion which was populated by giants and make it his home. Although the book was popular in its time it is not regarded today as a reliable history book. This shows how attitudes change with the times and how legends are made, though some may call it fiction. However, we will allow the reader to make up their own mind and look at the story Geoffrey tells about the founding of Cornwall by exiled Trojans.

Representation of Corineus – Public Domain

Brutus of Troy

According to Geoffrey, Brutus was a descendant of Aeneas, a Trojan prince, and had freed many Trojans who had been enslaved in Greece after the fall of Troy. He had become their leader and traveled far and wide with them having many adventures before meeting up with another band of exiled Trojans along the coast of the Tyrrhenian Sea.

Corineus

The commander of these exiles was named Corineus who was a courteous and modest man who could offer good council but was renowned also for his courage, boldness and prowess as a warrior. Brutus told Corineus of how Diana had come to him in a dream and told him to search for Albion and asked Corineus to join him. Corineus agreed and although he was a great war leader in his own right when told about the dream and understood who Brutus was descended from he placed himself and his men under his command becoming second in command himself in the army of Brutus and joined the quest.  Read more