The devil never came into Cornwall, because, when he crossed the Tamar, and made Torpoint for a brief space his resting-place, he could not but observe that everything, vegetable or animal, was put by the Cornish people into a pie.
He saw and heard of fishy pie, star-gazy pie, conger pie, and indeed pies of all the fishes in the sea. Of parsley pie, and herby pie, of lamy pie, and piggy pie, and pies without number.
Therefore, fearing they might take a fancy to a “devily pie,” he took himself back again into Devonshire. — Hunt.
Although the Devil himself may stay away, his minions are often seen in Cornwall. Local folklore doesn’t proerly distinguish infernal and magical ghosts, so they are collected here.
Bosava: The Demon Mason and Lenine the Cobbler
There’s a Cornish folktale with two monsters and a contagious infernal aura.
Most Cornish scholars agree that the name Bosava is composed of Bos (house), and aval (apple), with the signification of Orchard-house…The common saying of the inhabitants of this neighbourhood that “Bosava was the first house built after the flood,” implies that they regard it as the most ancient habitation of the vale.
Little more than a century ago there might be seen, just below Bosava mill, the ruins of a very old house…the erection of this remarkable dwelling was ascribed to a demon-mason, who engaged to build a house of better workmanship than was ever seen in the parish before, for an old miserly cobbler named Lenine, on the usual conditions–that the employer was to depart with the demon craftsman at a stated time and serve him. They say that one of the boots which old Lenine made for the dark gentleman-mason was much larger than the other, to hide his cloven foot. No one, at first, except the old cobbler, knew whence the dark and silent workman came, nor was it known how or when he departed: yet, in an incredibly short space of time, the building was completed…
Old Lenine enjoyed the house in his dismal way for many years after it had been finished, in all respects according to contract, by the honest mason-devil. The term was drawing near to a close for which it had been agreed that old Lenine was to live in his grand mansion, before he had to pay the builder; yet he didn’t seem to think much about it, and hammered away at his lapstone as if he didn’t care a cobbler’s cuss for what was soon to come.
At last the term expired. And the cloven-footed craftsman, whose name is never mentioned, returned to claim his own–to take his ancient employer home with him. The night he arrived (late as it was when he reached Bosava) he found old Lenine mending a pair of shoes for some neighbour. The cobbler desired his visitor, who was for immediate departure, to let him finish the job and the inch of candle remaining, stuck on the edge of the window-seat (that it might not be wasted) before they started together. The good-natured simple devil consented. And then, when he turned his back a moment, and went out to see how his work stood the beating of wind and weather, that instant the old cobbler blew out the candle and placed it in the bible. The devil, as one may expect, was much enraged to find himself fooled by the old miser, and declared that from that time old Lenine should never be able to keep a whole roof on the house nor anybody else after him, so that he would find himself worse off than if he would go then, like a man to his word. The old cobbler cursed and swore, that, roof or no roof, he would remain in his house, in spite of all the black gentry in the place the dark workman carne from, as long as one stone stood on another. The crow of the cock soon after made the devil decamp, and, in taking his departure, he raised a whirlwind which blew off all the thatch from one side of the roof. The old cobbler didn’t mind that, for as soon as the devil departed he cast the candle in tin that it might be safe.
Old Lenine tried every means that he, or anyone else could ever think of, to keep a sound roof over his head, but all in vain…Whether he died in a natural way no one could say for certain. Those who inherited the property thought they would keep a roof on such a fine high house, that they might either live in it, or let it, but they were mistaken, because the contest between the cobbler and the devil was going on with more than ever. Old Lenine might be heard every night making the walls resound with the noise of his hammer ringing on the lapstone: even by day he would often be heard beating his leather from all over the bottom…
The miller begged the parson to come to Bosava without delay, and to exert his power on the devil and cobbler. He thought that if the parson could not succeed in driving them away, he might at least, as he was a justice, bind them over to keep the peace.
They say that when the parson, assisted by Dr. Maddern and the miller, drew the magic pentagram and sacred triangle, within which they placed themselves for safety, and commenced the other ceremonies, only known to the learned, which are required for the effectual subjugation of restless spirits, an awful gale sprung up in the cove and raged up the vale with increasing fury, until scarcely a tree was left standing in the bottom. Yet there was scarcely a breath of wind stirring in other places. As the parson continued to read, the devil swore, howled, shrieked, and roared louder than the raging storm. The parson, undaunted, read on and performed more powerful operations in the art of exorcism, till the sweat boiled from his body so that there was not a dry thread on him, and the parson was beginning to fear that he had met with more than his match, when the whole force of the storm gathered itself around the haunted house, and the tree to which the parson clung, that he might not be blown away, was rooted from the ground, and swept by the gale, parson and all, right across the water. Then the thatch, timbers, and stones were seen, by the lightning flashes, to fly all over the bottom. One of the sharp spars from the thatch stuck in the parson’s side, and made a wound which pained him ever after. Yet, not to be baffled, the parson made the black spirit hear spells which were stronger still. A moment after, the devil (as if in defiance of the parson) had made a clean sweep of the roof, from amidst the wreck of the building a figure was soon to rise in the shape of the dark master-mason, and fly away in the black thunder-cloud, with his level, square, plumb-line, compasses, and other tools around him.
After the devil had disappeared there was a lull in the tempest. The brave parson then tried his power on the cobbler, who might still be heard beating his lapstone louder than ever. The parson, after summoning old Lenine to appear, and after much trouble in chasing the obstinate spirit of the old miser from place to place, at last caught him in the pulrose under the mill-wheel. Then the ghost threw his hammer and lapstone at the parson’s head; at the same time cried out, “Now, Corker, that thee art come I must be gone, but it’s only for a time.” Luckily the parson was too well acquainted with spiritual weapons to let ghostly tools do him any harm. The night was passed. The parson’s power had compelled the demon and cobbler to depart. After making a wreck of the house between them, the parson could do no more for the miller. But a few days after it was found that the old cobbler had returned to the charge, making more noise and annoyance about the place than ever, by broad daylight even as bad as by night, and that the parson could only hunt him from spot to spot about the wreck of the haunted place, without being able to make the cease from amidst the ruins. It was then decided to demolish all the walls of the devil’s building.
Thus the best piece of work ever seen in this part of the country was long ago destroyed, and the stones employed for building hedges and outhouses. No one cared to use them about any dwelling-house, for fear that the old miserly cobbler might claim them and again settle down to beat his lapstone beside them.
Plot hooks
- One of these stones can be built into the home of a rival, to make the haunting ,and perhaps the destruction of the roof, begin again.
- How can a single ghost haunt bricks scattered so far and wide? Is this a suitable subject for magical research? Could a Criamon magus skilled at taking ghostly form use it to rediscover the ancient secret of bilocation, lost since the time of Aristotle?
- The maso-demon is still in the business of working for his souls. If a castle begins to rapidly grow in this area, might he be labouring there? Similarly, if magi make their castle appear using rituals, will their neighbours think they had demonic help? Might the slighted pride of the mason-devil lead him to construct an even greater castle, and offer it to a local noble, creating trouble for the magi?
The Damned Soul of Tregeagle
There is not a lot known about the life of Jan Tregeagle. He is said to be one of the family that owned Trevorder, near Bodmin. He lived a dissolute life, exchanging one sin for another, until his death.
To save him from damnation, a prior, properly paid, indulged his sins and buried him in a church where Satan could not claim him. This did not last him until Judgement, however, because a lawyer called his animate corpse to testify in a court case about a piece of land on which Tregeagle had falsified records. Afterward the lawyer abandoned him to the judge, and the prior who had aided him so much during life.
The churchmen could not merely surrender a soul to the Devil, so they gave Tregeagle an eternal penance. He needed to empty a bottomless pool (Dosemay, on Bodmin Moor, which is said to link to Falmouth Harbour) with a limpet shell with a hole in it, never resting lest Satan take him. Hunt notes this punishment is the same as that given to the daughters of Danaus in Greek mythology. After a time, Tregeagle was driven from the Pool by a terrible, possibly infernal, storm, and fled the Black Hunter until he reached St Breoc’s Church, and shoved his head into the window. Demons could hurt him, but not drag him away, and so he screamed under their torture for many weeks.
This terrified the locals, so he was assigned a new task, to make ropes of sand on a beach near Padstow. Eventually he terrified the locals there so much that Saint Petroc chained him and took Tregeagle to a beach near Ella’s Town, which was then a rich port, where his penance was to carry sand away until the beach is bare rock. Eventually Tregeagle was tripped by a demon and his sack of sand formed a bar across the harbour of the town, destroying its economy. He was then sent to Porthcurnow Cove near Lands End, to sweep the beach’s sand around the headland into a cave.
He is still there, other than when he is forced from his task by the Black Hunter, and flees his wish-hounds across Cornwall. His cries are louder than the Atlantic gales. They are louder than the wind whistling through the cairns of Bodmin. His screams of hope, pain, fear and frustration may be heard anywhere in Cornwall.
Barguests, and other hellhounds, and already known in Ars Magica, but in Cornwall they are strongly related with the figure of Tregeagle and the Black Hunter who chases him. to the dread blast of his bugle. The demonic figure, also called the Midnight Hunter, is served by headless hounds, which nonetheless howl. The cry of these hounds is fatal to mortal dogs. In Cornwall and Devon these are often called “yell hounds” of “wish hounds”. This comes from a local dialect word, whist, which means melancholy and supernatural. Whistman is a term that’s suitable for magi, as some writers mistakenly think the word is related to “weird” or “wise” or “Woden”.
Tregeagle, in one variant of the story, cannot abide the presence of babies. This may be because they are sacred innocents. A person carrying a baby is proof against his powers, even if they merely scoop up the child of a random nearby person.
In another story Dosemay Pool was an infernal regio, a castle of carnality that Tregeagle traded his soul for access to for a hundred years. Time passed without him noticing while he was there, however. At the end of his time, the Hunter came, killed him with a bolt of flame, and now chases his ghost for sport.
Hunt notes that, in addition to Domesay Pool, wish hounds are often reported in the valley of Dewerstone and in Cheny Downs.
Plot hooks
Tregeagle seems a potent spirit, so a covennt with a weak Aegis might serve as a new refuge for him. Does this lead to a demonic siege? Tormenting demons being more common in the neighbourhood? Can the characters get him out within asking saints to come in and perform miracles, damaging the magical Aura?
Pardoning sin for money is a sensitive topic. Some Catholics think the way we talk about it in English has been inflated by Protestant propaganda. It’s clear that the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215 stamps down on what it considers abuses. The doctrine of the superabundance of the merit of Jesus and the saints is developing in the game period, but can only be traced to about 1230, textually.
Regardless of the precise mechanism of pardoning, I still like the fact that pardoners are called quaestores. I’m tempted to design and NPC bandit leader who thought a Hermetic quaesitor was a pardoner, tried to rob him, and then was hired after being defeated, because the quaesitor thought it was hilarious.
There seem to be a batch of lawyers in this story who can call up the dead, despite Christian burial. Is this some sort of tradition of Infernalists? Is Tregeagle really a faerie impersonating the sinner? Similarly, the priests seem to be good at controlling his spirit. Are they all saints, or is there a technique employed?
Could a modern sinner be damned in much the same way as Tregeagle? A nobleman or magus, for example?
If a magical battle disturbs the site of his labour, such that Tregeagle needs a new task, what might it be?
The center of House Tytalus is just across the Channel. If one of those magi wants to chase the Midnight Hunter, what trouble could that bring?
Devil’s money
“The boy didn’t venture from his fort for sometime after the bull left. At length he ‘ cramed ‘ down over a shelving side of the rock on all fours, head foremost it was too dark to see
where to put his feet. When he touched ground with his hand he felt and took up what he thought, by the feel of it, to be a penny-piece or a large button. He ran home and saw, by light shining through a window, that he had found a penny. When the way was clear, he made a place to hide it, in a hole over the chimney-stool the fire-place was a large open one for burning furze and turf.
Next night, about the same hour as on the preceding, he went on the rock,
‘ cramed ‘ down again, and found two penny-pieces, which he hoarded in the hole ; and, night after night, he visited the rock, found the money doubled each succeeding night, and
picked up silver money in other places where one would the least expect to find it, till his hiding-place was nearly full in a few weeks.
How much longer this luck would have continued there is no knowing ; for, one night, when he thought there was nobody about, his mother came in and found him standing on the
chimney-stool so earnest about something that he didn’t see her watching him, and he kept handling his money till she said, ”Whatever hast thee got there between the stones, that thee art always stealing into the chimney, whenever thee dost think nobody is noticing of thee.”
“
Only my buttons and marbles, mother,” said he.
“I don’t believe thee,” replied his mother; “stand away, and I’ll see for myself.” Saying this she took up the fire-hook, ran the point of it into the hole, and dragged out a lot of money.
“Now tell me, or I’ll kill thee, thou lying thief,” said she, “where didst thee get this money; if thee hast stole it I’ll murder thee, I will.”
The boy didn’t much mind his mother’s threats terrific as they seem he was used to it. Yet she made him tell how he came by the money.
“Oh! good gracious mercy on us,” cried she, before he had finished telling her ; ‘ oh ! thou wicked boy ; thee hast frightened me out of my life. Now tell me true,” moaned she, wringing her hands, ” hast thee used any of the” devil’s money, put there to entice thee to sell thyself to him, body and soul?”
” No, mother, please sure I han’t,” said he, “I was [saving] all to buy a gun.”
“Well, thank goodness,” groaned his mother, “that I have found all out in time to prevent thee shuttan thyself or somebody else with the devil’s gun. I should never more rejoice if I
thought thee hast used a farthing of en. Know, thou plague of [my] heart, that what seemed to thee a bull was the Old One hisself. He placed the money there for thee, and, when the bull seemed to vanish, he only changed to an adder, a toad, or something else that suited his purpose, and he was watchan thee all the time.”
Whilst talking to the boy she raked all the money on to a fireshovel, and threw it under a brandes, around which there was a good turf-fire. In a few minutes all the money melted away, and was gone like hailstones in sunshine. Next morning she carried out all the ashes, strewed them about the town-place, and swept the hearth nine times before she lighted a new fire. The poor woman never rested till she told old Parson Stephens. He didn’t altogether believe the boy’s story, but said that if it was the devil’s money she did right, or
she might have brought it to him.
The boy was so terrified by what his mother said, that, for years after, he never ventured to wander by night, even when he hunted for Sir Rose, and was as stout a man as one might see of a market day ; and the sight of a black bull or anything he took for such would always make him tremble. There are many stories of this class about people having been
enticed with devil’s money, but few of them have so fortunate an ending as the old huntsman’s relation.
Plot hook
Money keeps disappearing from the payments made to the covenant, and some detective work indicates it vanishes at the Aegis. Magi may think it’s just faerie silver, and look for a minor trickster as its source. What do they do when they discover a potent demon, whose money curses everything that was purchased with it?
Diabolic vicars
There are a surprising number of vicars skilled in demon worship in Cornwall. There are many others who can lay or banish ghosts. Hunt says that it’s common to cast them to the Red Sea, or Dead Sea.
Plot hook:
There are covenants near the Dead Sea: surely it must be annoying to have the various terrors of Cornwall appear in your lake? The Red Sea is the province of the Soqotrans, a secluded order of magicians served by, and serving, potent tree-spirits. Might they send agents to stop this?
Jago of Wedron
Time for a quote from Hunt
“Any one visiting the parish of Wendron will be struck with many distinguishing features in its inhabitants. It would appear as if a strange people had settled down amidst the races already inhabiting the spot, and that they had studiously avoided any intimate connection with their neighbours. The dialect of the Wendron people is unlike any other in Cornwall, and there are many customs existing amongst them which are not found in any other part of the county. Until of late years, the inhabitants of Wendron were quite uneducated ; hence the readiness with which they associate ancient superstitions with comparatively modern individuals.
The Reverend Mr Jago was no doubt a man who impressed this people with the powers of his knowledge. Hence we are told that no spirit walking the earth could resist the spells laid upon him by Jago. By his prayers or powers many a night wanderer has been put back into his grave, and so confined that the poor ghost could never again get loose. To the evil-disposed Mr Jago was a terror. All Wendron believed that every act was visible to the parson at the moment it was done day or night it mattered not. He has been known to pick a thief at once out of a crowd, and criminal men or women could not endure the glance of his eye. Many a person has at once confessed to guilty deeds of which they have been suspected the moment they have been brought before Mr Jago.
We are told that he had spirits continually waiting upon him, though invisible until he desired them to appear. The parson rode far and wide over the moorland of his parish. He never took a groom with him ; for, the moment he alighted from his horse, he had only to strike the earth with his whip, and up came a demon-groom to take charge of the steed.”
.Jago is mentioned in a later story. There was a suicide called Tucker, who was buried at a crossroads. When people rode past, they could crack a whip and yell “Arise, Tucker!” and his shade would travel with them for a way. Eventually, Tucker became sick of being used for a game, so he did not return to his grave, staying gripped to the rider. This parson locked him into his grave.
So, Jago has Piercing Gaze, at minimum, and a demonic groom. He also has the ability to pin ghosts into their graves. It’s possible he has faerie powers, or uses the powers of the Divine to control the Infernal. As an alternative, he might really be happy using demons to be a really great vicar. Not every diabolist wants to become Emperor
The people of this area might have odd characteristics because they have Faerie Blood, or magical Warping.
Peter of Altarnun
This myth is from the reign of Charles II, but you can work it back into 1220 if you wish. The deacon of the church, Peter, was interested in his office only for the luxuries it provided. He was reputed to disinter the recently dead. Some said ti was to steal their rings. Others said it was for black magic. What is known is that at the age of a hundred, dark hair grew through his grey ones, and new teeth thrust from his empty jaws. He died when he was over 150 years old.
Dando of Saint Germans
Dando was a “jolly friar” at the priory of Saint Germans. He ate and drank to excess, and gave light, indulgent penances to those seeking confession. He was well-liked by many of the locals, save a few, whose deep curses followed him with effect.
The priest pursued hunting with the same excess as his other vices, and he trampled the fields and gardens of many farmers. Their hatred of him eventually took form. The Devil did not take Dando immediately. He made sure he had good health, and regular money. Dando arranged the drinks, gluttony and sex. Eventually, though, Dando had done all of the damage he could do, and the Devil decided to harvest his soul.
One Sunday, while Dando was out hunting, he called for drink. “Where can I get it?” asked one of his grooms. “You can go to Hell if you can’t get it on Earth!” answered the priest. A dashing man rode up and gave him a flask. The man and the priest argued, and eventually the man lifted the priest onto the front of horse. He galloped toward the river, and when he leapt into the flow, the water boiled and hissed.
The priest was never seen again. A carving of this story is found in the oak throne of the bishop of Saint Germans. The hounds of the hunt are often heard on Sabbath mornings. Some people are chased by the dandy-dogs, and a dark hunter with saturnine horns, but if they pray fervently, the hell-hounds are turned aside and seek other prey.
The Parson of Dawlish
The bishop of Exeter was dying, and the priest from Dawlish kept dropping in to see how he was doing. This seems like an act of charity, but he wanted the throne for himself and was waiting the prelate to die. The clerk of the cathedral was the priest’s guide through the wilds between the two settlements, until one night, they got lost near Haldon. The priest quarrelled with the clerk, and finally said “I would rather have the devil for a guide than you.” A peasant on a moor pony rode up, and led them to Dawlish.
As they entered the town, the peasant asked the priest to dinner. They entered a ruined house, well-lit and filled with wild but convivial people. There was a great deal of feasting and drinking, and the priest entertained his new friends with hunting songs, and songs in praise of the Devil. The company liked these, and joined in on the choruses. Near dawn, the clerk and priest tried to leave, but their horses would not move, regardless of how soundly they applied the whip.
The company laughed, and turned into devils. The priest found his horse was really a rock, and the mansion was merely an illusion above the sea. Two stray horses wandered into Dawlish the next morning and a search was made. The clerk and the priest were found dead, still clinging to the two rocks, waist deep in the bay.
Duffy and the Devil
Duffy and the Devil is a Cornish version of Rumpelstiltskin. The devil is called “Terrytop” in the local version. It differs a little, in that a beautiful peasant girl gets a job as a spinner by lying about the quality of her work. A devil appears and says he’ll do her work for three years, then give her the chance to guess his name. If she fails to guess, she must go away with him. The girl’s spinning is so good that she has many potential suitors, but marries her employer, a local nobleman.
Duffy spends a lot of time at the local mill, dancing and gossiping. The miller’s wife, Bet, is her best friend and a witch. The witch knew her spinning was done by a demon, because there was always a dropped stitch in the stockings. Demons can’t make perfect things. She didn’t let on, because she had uses for demons herself, but when he friend appeared sad, toward the end of the three years, she had the whole story from Duffy.
Bet distracted the squire, who is off hunting, with a supernatural hare. She then puts on her red witch’s robe and seeks out her fellow witches, who hold a Sabbat at Fugoe Hole. She gets the devil drunk, and encourages him to dance and sing. He foolishly mentions his name. The squire, who has been led to the revel by the hare, hears this, and tells it to his wife the next morning, thinking it bu t a queer occurrence.
She then gives the creature its name, and all of the spinning it had created disappears. The squire thinks this is because he chased a witch, likely Bet, in hare form, and so has been cursed. He discovers Duffy cannot spin new cloth, and there is some sort of resolution which involves Duffy’s previous lover thrashing the squire, but Hunt then clams up, saying that the droll is long and its conclusion to immodest for the modern reader.
The Hooting Cairn
Cairn Kenidzhek (pronounced Kenidjack, meaning “Hooting”) is on the road from St Just to Penzance. Devils gather there to watch wrestling matches. The light and noise are obvious in the surrounding land, and so people avoid talking when passing through its shadow, which lies over the road. At night, most avoid the road.
The story that describes the doings on the cairn are given by two miners who, a little drunk, passed along the road at night, and forgetting the prohibition, discussed their mining. A man in black galloped toward them, on a horse they knew as one of those used in the mine, and so they called out, to make sure they were not ridden down by accident. The drunken men spoke to the rider, who told them he was going to the wrestling, and to come along.
The miners found they could not help but obey, and that the climb was effortless. A crowd was gathered about a huge fire, and singing a song that had a hoot as a chorus. Two gigantic men began to wrestle, but the man in black called that there was insufficient light. A demon set his eyes upon the athletes, and they glowed with balefire that illuminated the match. The giants wrestled until one dropped the other, who lay as if dead. One of the miners was a lapsed minister of religion, and in a fit of morality offered the ultimate unction to the fallen giant.
In an instant, the men were lost in the dark and fog: the demons had vanished. The miners lay in each other’s arms for warmth, and waited for the safety of the sunrise.
The Dancing Stones
There are many circles of standing stones in Cornwall. The peasants of Mythic Europe know where they come from: annoy God enough and he’ll turn you, and all of your friends, into rocks. He’s particularly fond of making rockeries on the Sabbath.
The Dancing Stones are near Burian, and are believed to be girls from a neighbouring village who were lured dancing by two demons. Their revel continued into the Sabbath, so God decided he needed a new tourist attraction and he made them into stone., The two demons, likewise, were turned into stones. That shouldn’t stop them for long, but it does mean the stones may have an infernal aura, sordid vis, or provide an arcane connection to the previous inhabitants.
There’s a similar story told at various other places, and a related story , told in rivalry at many, many sites, that the stones commemorate some dead nuns. This would give them an aura, particularly if the nuns were martyred during the invasions.
Near Cheesewring are three sets of circles called the Hurlers. Hurling is a sport, and playing it on the Sabbath is pretty common. Some suggest that faeries or demons now use the Hurlers as goals in their own games of hurley, and they are always up for a match if the stakes are right.
Death tokens
The Death Token of the Vingoes
A quote from Hunt:
“WHEN you cross the brook which divides St Leven from Sennen, you are on the estate of Treville. Tradition tells us that this estate was given to an old family who came with the Conqueror to this country. This ancestor is said to have been the Duke of Normandy’s wine-taster, and that he belonged to the ancient counts of Treville, hence the name of the wstate. Certain it is the property has ever been held without poll deeds. For many generations the family has been declining, and the race is now nearly, if not quite, extinct. Through all time a peculiar token has marked the coming death of a Vingoe. Above the deep caverns in the Treville cliff rises a earn. On this, chains of fire were seen ascending and descending, and often accompanied by loud and frightful noises. It is said that these tokens have not been seen since the last male of the family came to a violent end.”
This seems to match the description of an Accuser, a type of demon that says it is a servant of the Lord, sent to punish people for their sins. They are made of flaming chains.
The Death Fetch of William Rufus
To quote Hunt again “ROBERT, Earl of Moreton, in Normandy, who always carried the standard of St Michael before him in battle, was made Earl of Cornwall by William the Conqueror. He was remarkable for his valour and for his virtue, for the exercise of his power, and his benevolence to the priests. This was the Earl of Cornwall who gave the Mount in Cornwall to the monks of Mont St Michel in Normandy. He seized upon the priory of St Petroc at Bodmin, and converted all the lands to his own use.
This Earl of Cornwall was an especial friend of William Rufus. It happened that Robert, the earl, was hunting in the extensive woods around Bodmin of which some remains are still to be found in the Glyn Valley. The chase had been a severe one ; a fine old red deer had baffled the huntsmen, and they were dispersed through the intricacies of the forest, the Earl of Cornwall being left alone. He advanced beyond the shades of the woods on to the moors above them, and he was surprised to see a very large black goat advancing over the plain. As it approached him, which it did rapidly, he saw that it bore on its back ” King Rufus,” all black and naked, and wounded through in the midst of his breast. .
Robert adjured the goat, in the name of the Holy Trinity, to tell what it was he carried so strangely. He answered, ” I am carrying your king to judgment ; yea, that tyrant William Rufus, for I am an evil spirit, and the revenger of his malice which he bore to the Church of God. It was I that did cause this slaughter; the protomartyr of England, St Albyn, commanding me so to do, ivho complained to God of him, for his grievous oppression in this Isle of Britain, which he first hallowed.”
Having so spoken, the spectre vanished. Robert, the earl, related the circumstance to
his followers, and they shortly after learned that at that very hour William Rufus had been slain in the New Forest by the arrow of Walter Tirel.”
Again, a demon is acting as an agent of the Divine: here as the punisher of a king on behalf of St Alwyn. The orthodox understanding is that this is not really how saints operate, but in a Cornish context, does that mean a demon could attack the characters and have a Divine Aura, because it really is their chastiser sent from God?
Demons of the Mines
There is a spirit called Gathan which mocks the miners. He repeats their blows stroke for stroke, fills mines with smoke, and leads them astray with false fires. He seems to be a separate presence from the little imps often seen by miners. They are often seen lounging about underground, near lodes which they work while the miners are away. he imps are seen as lucky, but will not let the cross be drawn or made underground.
A dead hand, carrying a candle, has been seen in many mines. It climbs ladders, as though a body were attached. It holds the candle between forefinger and thumb while grasping with the other three, as a miner would. There is a story about how a miner had his hand cut off in an accident: but surely a ghost should haunt a single mine, rather than the many in which it has been spotted? It is perhaps a demon or a faerie.
There’s a mine mentioned in the notes where many men had died in a cave-in. The bodies were pulled to the surface mangled beyond recognition. To spare the feelings of the relatives, one of the miners shovelled the gore in the furnace. Since then, the mine has been haunted by tiny black dogs, which are seen before disasters.
The Fuggo : a place to delve, and a spirit
“ABOUT a furlong south-west of Trove…is the Fuggo. It consists of a cave about six feet high, five feet wide, and near forty long, faced on each side with rough stones, across which long stone posts are laid. On its north-west side a narrow passage leads into another cave of similar construction and unknown extent; as it has long been blocked up by a portion of the roof having fallen in…They say that it extends from its entrance, at the foot of Boleigh hill, to the old mansion at Trove ; in proof of this the old one has often been heard piping under a parlour of the house. It is supposed he meets the witches down there, who have entered by the Fuggo to dance to his music. Hares are often seen to enter the Fuggo which are never known to come out the same way ; they are said to be witches going to meet their master, who provides them with some other shape to return in.
Old folks of the neighbourhood say that there was another Fuggo in Trove Hill, on the opposite side of the Glen, There are traditions that almost all these caves were haunted by beings of a fearful nature, whose path it was dangerous to cross. The fuggo at Bodinnar, called the Giant’s Holt, was a few years ago much dreaded, as it was thought to be the abode of ugly spriggans that kept watch and guard over treasures which still remain buried in that ancient hiding-place.
There is a somewhat graceful creation of fancy associated with the Vow, or fuggo, at Pendeen, which is said to extend from the mansion to Pendeen Cove, and some say it has branches in other directions, which spread far away from the principal cavern. At dawn on Christmas Day the “Spirit of the Tow” has freqiiently been seen just within the entrance, near the Cove, in the form of a beautiful lady, dressed in white, with a red rose in her mouth. There were persons living, a few years since, who had seen this fair but not the less fearful vision ; for disaster was sure to visit those who intruded on the spirit’s morning airings.”
“If there be any truth in old traditions about that…fougou…it runs for a great distance (some say miles), yet most people believe that the eastern end was once open at the cove. Others will have it that old tinners, who lived before part of the roof had fallen in, travelled in it for ten times the distance from the house to the cove, and burned more than a pound of candles without finding the end. They always returned frightened, and what they saw to scare them they could never be got to tell.“
“Perhaps the Spirit of the Vow, that many have seen at the entrance, in the appearance of a tall lady, dressed in white, with a red rose in her mouth, at all seasons of the year, may take a more fearful form within the cavern. ” Who can tell,” he continued, “but that money and treasures may have been secreted there in troublesome times of old, and I wonder why the Squire don’t have the mystery about the Vow cleared up…”
“I am very much of thy mind, my dear,” Capt. Peter replied, “Ef the Squire would give us leave…and I don’t think we should find there many spirits to frighten us away. I believe that many of the fearful stories about the Vow were invented by smugglers. When the fair trade was in its glory the Vow was a convenient place for storage, and I think that the smugglers, who didn’t want any faint hearts, with weak heads and long tongues, to come near them, invented many fearful stories to scare such away. “
Ghosts
The Ghost of Rosewarne
Exekiel Grosse purchased the land and house of the de Rosewarnes, possibly through a lawyerish trick. This was in the time of James I, well after the game period, but use it anyway. Grosse was a terribly greedy man, and had heard a folktale saying there was treasure hidden somewhere about the house. He looked, but could not find it.
He began to hear noises about the house. After a time, he saw a shadowy figure. Eventually it manifested as a careworn man in clothes of an old style, making gestures Ezekiel could not understand. After weeks of this, he yelled at the spectre “In the name of God, what wantest thou ?”
“To show thee, Ezekiel Grosse, where the gold for which thou longest lies buried.” answered the ghost. Ezekiel could not rise from his chair, but the ghost made pleas to Ezekiel’s greed and dragged him out to a set of stones, telling him “Ezekiel Grosse, thou longest for gold, as I did. I won the glittering prize, but I could not enjoy it. Heaps of treasure are buried beneath those stones ; it is thine, if thou diggest for it.Win the gold, Ezekiel. Glitter with the wicked ones of the world ; and when thou art the most joyous, I will look in upon thy happiness.” The ghost then vanished.
In short, Ezekiel found a bronze urn, filled with ancient gold coins. It was too heavy to lift, so Ezekiel sneaks out each night, bringing the treasure home. Ezekiel expands the house, buys the surrounding land, and buys a coach and four. He lives well for many years: his revels becoming vaster and vaster as time goes on. One Christmas Eve, he is having a massive party, and the ghost appears at the feast: crushing the mood of festivity. Afterward, whenever Ezekiel holds a gathering for his friends, a terrifying vision appears and drains away all goodwill. His friends abandoned him, until the only person he spoke to was his clerk. The ghost began to haunt Ezekiel’s every moment.
Eventually they came to terms: Ezekiel would give all his wealth to anyone the ghost nominated, and it would leave him in peace. The spectre selected Call, the clerk, and when the paperwork was done, it explained its motive. Time for some Hunt:
“Grosse was then informed that this evil spirit was one of the ancestors of the Rosewarne, from whom by his fraudulent dealings he obtained the place, and that he was allowed to visit the earth again for the purpose of inflicting the most condign punishment on the avaricious lawyer. His avarice had been gratified, his pride had been pampered to the highest ; and then he was made a pitiful spectacle, at whom all men pointed, and no one pitied. He lived on in misery, but it was for a short time. He was found dead : and the country people ever said that his death was a violent one ; they spoke of marks on his body, and some even asserted that the spectre of De Rosewarne was seen rejoicing amidst a crowd of devils, as they bore the spirit of Ezekiel over Carn Brea.”
Ghostly Warders
Ghosts of drowned sailors in Cornwall often appear as men with seaweed in their mouths. They follow home people who talk to them. They do not seem to do any particular harm, but their presence is disconcerting. A character with a Ghostly Warder might have someone who, similarly, looks drowned. I’ve always kind of thought of Ghostly Warders as looking like the person imagined themselves. This doesn’t need to be the case, though. A ghostly warder could take an animal shape, or a damaged one.
Hailing by the dead
There are certain wrecks that Cornish fishermen will not go near, particularly at night, because the ghosts of the sailors hail their friends by name. Magi can harvest these ghosts pretty easily, unless something else is making the noise. A faerie that feeds on fear, for example, might take the form of the ghosts, allowing the player characters to ritually clip it after each wreck, providing a vis source and a moral quandary about how safe they should make this harbour.
Hares
A woman slighted by a man, if she commits suicide, will often appear in the shape of a white hare. There are stories of such a hare causing a man’s horse to shy while he is near a mine, so that he falls to his death. Such hares generally fade when their worldly work is done, but if a magician were quick, such a hare might become a familiar. Alternatively, a man may ask for protection…from a rabbit.
In Polbreen Mine there’s a ghost called Dorcas, which is the spirit of a girl who committed suicide by throwing herself down the shaft. She calls out to miners, distracts them from their tasks, and perhaps does more. When a tribute (a miner working for a share of profits rather than wages) has had a poor month, people joke with him that he’s been chasing Dorcas. One at least one occasion she saved a miner from a rockfall by telling him to move. It wasn’t a shouted warning: she’s not that sort of ghost.
The Irish Lady
There’s a rock near Land’s End called “The Irish Lady” which is haunted by an Irish woman tossed onto it by a shipwreck. The local fishers could see her, but not save her, because the sea was too rough from the storm that had destroyed her ship. She perished of exposure, and now her ghost is seen, sitting tranquilly on the rock during storms, with a rose in her teeth. A related story has the woman being seized by a creature that dwelt in a cave by her rock: there is a healing well here, and she tried to find out what was the cause of the cure, dying for her curiosity. This story seems to be from a period after Ars Magica’s 1220 start date, but I wouldn’t let that stop me….
The Lady with the Lamp
In Saint Ives Bay, sailors look out for lights on one set of rocks and, seeing them, head home, for they know there will be squalls. The light is carried by the ghost of a lady who was on a ship that broken on rocks. She leapt from the damaged vessel to a rescue craft, but missed her footing and fell in the water. In surfacing, she lost her hold on the baby that was in her arms, and before storms, her shade goes to look for it.
Player characters could draw her child from the sea, or harvest her for Mentem vis. If they do that, do they need to warn the fishermen that the weather forcaster is gone?
A Spectral Coach
At its simplest: near Lanreath there is a moor on which a ghost appears, dressed in black and driving a team of headless horses, which draw a black coach. Those who see the spirit are never right in their minds again. Mortal horses avoid the coach, sensing it well before humans: but when it is within sight they are drawn to it, clearly against their own desires.
Spectre Bridegroom
This story is a commonplace, but it has an interesting bit of folk magic I’ll quote from Hunt:
It was All-hallows Eve, and two of Nancy’s companions persuaded her no very difficult task to go with them and sow hemp-seed. At midnight the three maidens stole out unperceived into Kimyall town-place to perform their incantation. Nancy was the first to sow, the others being less bold than she. Boldly she advanced, saying, as she scattered the seed, “Hemp-seed I sow thee, Hemp-seed grow thee ; And he who will my true love be, Come after me And shaw thee.”
This was repeated three times, when, looking back over her left shoulder, she saw Lenine ; but he looked so angry that she shrieked with fear, and broke the spell. One of the other girls, however, resolved now to make trial of the spell, and the result of her labours was the vision of a white coffin. Fear now fell on all, and they went home sorrowful, to spend each one a sleepless night.
The boy, Lenine, was a sailor and had great difficulty because his ghost was literally pulled from his body while he was trying to steer through a storm, causing him to faint. The girl who saw a coffin died within a year. The man’s boat was wrecked, and he died on the shore. After sunset his ghost appeared, on horseback and dressed in a shroud and grave clothes. to Nancy. She was so surprised to see him she took his hand without noticing his clothes, and once he had pulled her onto his horse, she could not resist him.
As the riders passed a blacksmith’s by a church Nancy regained speech, and cried out for aid. The blacksmith grabbed her, pulled her to the ground, but the ghost seized part of her dress, and began to drag her away with supernatural strength. The blacksmith kept hold, and the two were dragged for some distance. The blacksmith, who had been disturbed at his work still had a red-hot iron in one hand. He used it to burn through the dress, and the ghost vanished over the wall of the graveyard in which the sailor was lying.
In the morning, Lenine’s horse was found covered in foam, with a swollen tongue, and with rolling, mad eyes. There was a piece of wedding dress on Lenine’s grave. Nancy passed away from shock.
Sarah Polgrain
Storms are often blamed on the spirit of Sarah Polgrain of Lugvan. She murdered her husband and was hung on Bodmin Moor. In the shadow of the gallows, she spoke with her lover, a horsedealer named Yorkshire Jack, and made him promise to wed her living or dead. After some years, he began to see her from the corner of his eye, and he fled Cornwall on a merchant ship. This did not save him, for the Devil and Sarah sought him out, and destroyed his ship in a storm. Sarah’s descendants still live about Lugvan.
Spectral ships
The lugger of Croft Pasco Pool
Hunt notes there’s a ghost ship here, and that it is unlucky to sight it. He says nothing else, save that “Unbelieving people attributed the origin of the tradition to a white horse seen in a dim twilight standing in the shallow water ; but this was indignantly rejected by the mass of the residents.” If you had a covenant in this area, would it be safe for the grogs to mount watches, given that they could be cursed by the stray sight of the lugger?
St Ives Ghost Ship
There’s a story from St Ives of a ship that was seen foundering in the bay. Many fishermen rowed out to it, to try and l;end aid, and there was some jockeying to be the first aboard. There may be some legal right involved there. When the first man set foot on the ship, it vanished and he tumbled into the sea. A few days later, a ship broke up nearby, and the corpses washed up on the local shore.
What’s the mechanism here? This seems to be a ghost, the locals call it a “ghost ship” but that requires the ghost generating the ship to go back in time. The ship is kind of like a prophecy or warning, but its message can’t have been delivered to the people who were about to die. Was it to the local church warden, to get him ready for the care of the bodies about to be deposited on the beach? It’s a Vision, in the game sense, but without the chance to change or profit from what is seen, so it would be bad storyguinding in the real world.
Did the first man on the ship cause it to vanish, so that in future, people could learn from his actions? Was he carrying a cross, or whistling or something, so that his knowledge is a treasure the player characters can seek?
The Spectre Ship of Porthcurno
There’s a little bay called Raftra, where St Leven’s Church was going to be built. Each night the Devil stole the stones and moved them to where the church now is, so people stopped fighting him over this site. The manor built here was the largest west of Penzance for a time. and was so expensive that the family who built it were forced to sell all of their lands before it was complete. They lost the house also, before they could move into it. As a stroyguide this seems like a powerful infernal Aura, that is wrecking the lives of people who live here. Hunt notes that this valley is a “melancholy spot”. Long ago when St Leven lived at Bodlean, high up the valley, and it was a garden of great beauty. It’s odd for the Infernal to overcome the sacred ground of a saint (at least in the current edition).
The Spectre Ship appears at nightfall out of the sea, and sails over the land. It’s ill luck to see it. It’s usually a single-masted square-rigged ship, with a black sail and trailing a boat, but this sometimes varies. It was not crewed, or they were beneath decks, the hatches of which were battened down. It sailed to Chygwiden, then vanished .
Time for some Hunt: The ship is “somehow connected with a strange man who returned from sea, and went to live at Chygwiden. It may be five hundred years since it may be but fifty. He was accompanied by a servant of foreign and forbidding aspect, who continued to be his only attendant ; and this servant was never known to speak to any one save his master. It is said by some they were pirates…Whatever they may have been, there was but little seen of them by any of their neighbours. They kept a boat at Porthcurno Cove, and at daylight they would start for sea, never returning until night, and not unfrequently remaining out the whole of the night, especially if the weather was tempestuous….when the storm was loudest there was this strange man, accompanied either by his servant or by the devil, and the midnight cry of his dogs would disturb the
country.
This mysterious being died, and then the servant sought the aid of a few of the peasantry to bear his coffin to the churchyard. The corpse was laid in the grave, around which the dogs were gathered, with the foreigner in their midst. As soon as the earth was thrown on the coffin, man and dogs disappeared, and, strange to say, the boat disappeared at the same moment from the cove. It has never since been seen ; and from that day to this, no one has been able to keep a boat in Porthcurno Cove.”
So, a ghostly pirate ship which voyages upon the land. Could magi destroy it? Better, could they command it?
Tregaseag Lights
There was a pirate turned off his ship on the Cornish coast, for being too terrible for his crewmates. He settled at Tregaseag, and made his living as a wrecker. He hobbled his horse to that its head was near its forefoot, and put a lantern on its neck, so that when he lead the horse along the cliffs. The horse’s bobbing gait made it look like a ship’s light. Other ships would follow and be wrecked. The pirate waited above the cliff with a hatchet, to cut off the hands, or stave in the heads, of sailors who managed to climb the cliff.
When the wrecker had reached a ripe age, a ship of black wood, with black sails, appeared in the harbour and the words “The time is come, but not the man” floated on the breeze through the town. A storm appeared, but only above the wrecker’s cottage. People raced to his house, and it was filled with the sounds of the sea. He was screaming and begging. “The Devil is tearing me with his nails, like the claws of a hawk.” he cried. He asked his friends to send away the “bloody-handed sailors” who were threatening him, but no-one else could see what terrified him. The earth quakes, his friends flee the house, and it is struck by lightning.
A few braver souls go back inside and find his body. After coffining, they carry it to the churchyard, and are followed on their way by a black pig. When they rest for a moment, either at the stile of the church or when the coffin is lowered inot the gorund (my notes are incomplete) lightning sets the coffin on fire. The pig and ship vanish, but the wrecker’s light is still seen on the clifftop to this day.
Is this an Infernal ghost? Does it make an infernal aura? Are the lights other people using the aura, swapping wrecks for demonic favours.
Tokens of miners
Miners are superstitious, and in Cornwall this takes the form of belief in “tokens”, which is to say, signs of impending trouble. If a miner walking to work in the middle of the night sees any woman at all, he’ll return home. This time, the walk in the dead of night to the mine, is the primary time to see tokens. If he sees a hare or whiter rabbit near the mine, he will warn others it is about to collapse. In the northern mines, there are Seven Whistlers, spirits who warn to avoid the mine by making sound like the wind, when no gale blows.
Hunt says that if a miner sees a snail on his midnight walk to work, he always cuts some tallow from the side of his candle and drops it for the animal to eat.
Miners will not work on Midsummer’s Eve or New Year’s Day, and will not tell people like Hunt why. That seems like a plot hook right there.
A quick quote from Hunt
“The old, half-starved horses on the common, with their hides grown rusty brown, like dried and withered grass, by exposure, are ridden by the archfiend at night. He is said to hunt lost souls over this heath ; and an old stile hard by bears an evil name, for there the souls are sure to be caught, none being able to get over it.”
Minor notes
The hand of a person hanged has many curative properties. Some people claim a hand will only cure those of the opposite sex. Hands are available, under the counter, from executioners. Alternatively, there’s a case recorded in Hunt of a woman being led up onto the gallows to take take the cure from a freshly hanged man’s hand. This might be folk magic, or it could be a grim sort of fae.
People are not buried on the north side of the church, because it is gloomy there. Evil spirits may dwell there, which seems odd when you recall this is hallowed ground. Then again, in this section we’ve seen that demons seem to work for the saints on a freelance basis, and in the chapter on sorcerers, there were a lot of priest commanding evil spirits to do good things. Does this mean magi have better luck casting spells on the northern side of a church? If there’s a mild Infernal aura there, it could be a better location than Divine or mundane alternatives.
When people die, it is necessary to open every lock and bar of the house, to let their spirit escape. Does this include the Aegis? Will the aegis keep annoyed ghosts inside, creating poltergeist activity, until it falls and they vanish with a sigh or a scream?
There’s a ghoulish thing called the “kergrim” at Launceston.
In Rillaton there are two black dogs. The ghost of a druid appears to people and asks for water. He died when refused by a local lord, and so now the local lord is cursed to always give food and water to travellers. The location of the druid’s grave in known (it overlooks the town). He was buried with his sword, knife and cup. The Rilllaton Cup is a real world object.
Games From Folktales 