Cornwall : Fire worship
This chapter is mostly worthless: what a disappointment.
Hunt does mention some places that need fleshed out for a gazeteer. The places are:
- Sacrificing Rock at Carn Brae
- Main (or Men) Rock in Constantine
- The altar rocks in Treen and Rokestall
- The Garrick Zans (“Holy Rock”) in Ecols – a local family is cursed, after the games period, for using the stone as building materials. In 1220, people use it for minor judicial magic. If something has been stolen, a large fire is lit on the rock and each person takes a burning faggot out. They spit on their stick and if it sizzles (or goes out: Hunt is unclear) they are innocent. Hunt says its because guilty people have dry mouths, but I’d use something more mythic.
Hunt then goes really off the rails, by claiming the Midsummer fires lit in Cornwall are “Baal Fires” which are, like the Beltaine fires of Ireland, a Celtic, pagan survival of the worship of the sun god Bel, or Belus. I’m an amateur at these things, so I wanted to check who this Bel was, given that the name Hunt prefers, Baal, is a Semitic word for a whole heap of gods and demons from the Middle East and Northern Africa. Belus has a Latin ending, and Bel just means “bright” and describes the fire. There’s no sun god there, and even if there was, the festival in on the wrong night.
Richard Edmonds, one of Hunt’s sources says as much: the tradition is, to him, a Roman one. The account is from far later, hence the tar barrels. It describes the gaining of a sort of personal magic resistance, and the laying of wards around fields.
“It is the immemorial usage in Penzance and the neighbouring towns and villages to kindle bonfires and torches on Midsummer-eve ; and on Midsummer-day to hold a fair on Penzance quay, where the country folks assemble from the adjoining parishes in great numbers to make excursions on the water. St Peter’s-eve is distinguished by a similar display of bonfires and torches, although the ‘ quay-fair ‘ on St Peter’s-day has been discontinued upwards of forty years. ” On these eves a line of tar-barrels, relieved occasionally by large bonfires, is seen in the centre of each of the principal streets in Penzance. On either side of this line young men and women pass up and down swinging round their heads heavy torches made of large pieces of folded canvas steeped in tar, and nailed to the ends of sticks between three and four feet long ; the flames of some of these almost equal those of the tar-barrels.
Rows of lighted candles also, when the air is calm, are fixed outside the windows or along the sides of the streets….On these nights Mount’s Bay has a most animating appearance, although not equal to what was annually witnessed at the beginning of the present century, when the whole coast, from the Land’s End to the Lizard, wherever a town or village existed, was lighted up with these stationary or moving fires. In the early part of the evening, children may be seen wearing wreaths of flowers, a custom in all probability originating from the ancient use of these ornaments when they danced around the fires. At the close of the fireworks in Penzance, a great number of persons of both sexes, chiefly from the neighbourhood of the quay, used always, until within the last few years, to join hand in hand, forming a long string, and run through the streets, playing ‘ thread the needle,’ heedless of the fireworks showered upon them, and oftentimes leaping over the yet glowing embers. I have on these occasions seen boys following one another, jumping through flames higher than themselves. But whilst this is now done innocently in every sense of the word, we all know that the passing of children through fire was a very common act of idolatry ; and the heathen believed that all persons, and all living things, submitted to this ordeal, would be preserved from evil throughout the ensuing year. A similar blessing was supposed to be imparted to their fields by running around them with flaming torches.” Richard Edmonds The Land’s End District t p. 66.
Hunt then notes that you can lead beasts over fire, or have humans jump over fire, to break curses. This includes the Evil Eye. The use of the Evil Eye is called “overlooking” in one of the stories he gives, and for the curse to be broken, the fire leapt over need to be from the hearth of the person who placed the curse. There is also a mention of drawing blood from sick animals and burning it, to chase away negative influences. Finally, he mentions that Cornish people feel you can ensure good luck, or ward off expected misfortune, by taking your best calf and forcing it alive into a fire, so that it is burned to death. He also mentions a lamb being used in the same way to break a curse on a flock of sheep.
I’m inclined to wonder that House Flambeau isn’t in the thick of all this, everywhere it happens. I know there are similar festivals in various parts of Europe, but this seems like the centre for Fire Tourism.
This was such a weak chapter from Hunt, and so brief, I have time for an extra episode this month. See you on Hallow’ween for a shaggy dog story from Dunsany.
Cornwall: Romances of the fishers
This is a chunkier chapter, so the temptation is there to break it up into sections to meet the requirements of a post a day. I’ll give it complete, but can’t promise the other 29 posts will all be of this length! For this post, I’m working from notes, not directly from Hunt, so there’s an extra level of boiling down. This should make the material more game-ready.
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.
If I was going gobbet by gobbet, I’d stop there. Let’s continue…
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?
Jack Harry’s Lights
Jack Harry’s Lights are a sort of naval will-o-the-wisp. They look like ship lights, or even known ships. People who follow them never seem to catch them, and it causes them time and trouble, although it does not seem to lure directly onto rocks. It is generally seen before great squalls, so some sailors take it as a warning.
Wisps are the sort of small faeries some magi take as familiars. They have a lot of uses to a magus, like illumination, signalling and scouting. Could a magus tame Jack Harry’s Lights? There’s no explanation of the name in Hunt’s book, by the way. I presume “Jack” means a sailor.
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?
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.
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.
The Hooper of Sennen Cove
The Hooper is a fog bank that stretches across thew bay, to warn sailors not to venture out. It is rarely seen in modern times, because a man who was desperate for money ignored it, led a crew through it, and they died in the squalls.
That it appears less often when ignored argues to me that it’s a faerie. Can the players get it to come back?
Notes on pilchards
If you eat pilchards head to tail, rather than tail to head, it damages the fishing for everyone. The mechanism of this is not clear. I’m guessing there’s a merrymaid at the bottom of it, though. Pilchards seem so inoffensive, but a magus who could use them is like a bee or ant magus: you’d see everything and would have swarms of workers.
If you are loading pilchards in your boat and they make a particular noise, it is a good sign that your catch will be bountiful that day and you should delay going home. The sound is caused, in the real world, by the rupturing of the swim bladders of the fish. The Cornish say the pilchards are “calling for more”. That is either a natural property of pilchards (they are mildly psychic after death) or that’s a piece of subconscious folk magic, or its a cover story for actual folk magic.
There is a person called a “heva” who watches for pilchard schools from the cliffs, and when they spot them, they give out the “hue”, a great shout. They use a system of white sheets draped on bushes to signal the location of the fish to the boats. These sheets seem to be a primitive semaphore. A turn of grogs trained in flags might spark the invention of the Hermetic telegraph.
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?
End notes
During this month I’ll make some attempt at statistics for the many creatures mentioned here. It seemed unsporting to start the month with a lot of posts already written, so I’ll try to get ahead enough to give me the time to work on stats.
I write a lot of GFF well before it comes out: the standard episdoes until the end of December are already queued at Libsyn for example, but the November process gives me a deadline and a need for a lot more material, so if you have low-hanging fruit, mention it in the comments.
I’m not going to be able to work up posts of this size each day. I don’t want to raise expectations too high, but we’ll see how we do. Welcome to November in the Ars community, where there’s a heap going on.
Cornwall: Death Tokens
This chapter has sections of uneven length, so I hope you’ll pardon that I use a series of long quotes, and then almost point form at the end.
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?
Sir John Arundell’s Curse
I’ll avoid a quote from Hunt here, by simply saying that Sir John was a good magistrate, and in the course of his duties he was cursed to die by human hand on yellow sand. As a sensible chap, he moved his home from Efford, which is on the coast, to Trerice, deep inland. He lived contentedly for many years.
Eventually, though a rebel nobleman took the Mount from the priests, and John was called to subdue him. Even though he knew he was going to fight on the beach, he went anyway, as he was a model of feudal service. He died.
I’d note that Sir John would be a perfect tame nobleman for a covenant, and that you could void his curse by having a spell turn the sand beneath his feet into grass, if only for a moment. Alternatively, if he was a foe, you could just hide sand in his mattress and cut his throat while he slept. His miraculous protection’s only a challenge until you find out the exact wording of the curse.
Minor notes
Hunt says that no-where has he seen so strong a belief that the shades of the dying are seen by their families as in Cornwall. I’m tempted to make that a free Virtue for Cornish characters: you can appear to your loved ones as you lie dying. These apparitions never seem to say much, and wouldn’t be visible to magi because the Parma Magica would prevent mental contact. They seem to only be visible to the intended recipient, but I’d stretch the point to those with the Sight.
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.
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?
Feather beds prolong the death pains of people on them.
Corpses should not follow new roads to the church, only the traditional ones. We have seen in previous books that these old ways are faerie trods, and they hate people mucking about with the routes of processions.
If people are boiling bitumen (which is a sealant) there will often be popping bubles which throw a piece off toward the observers. If it is round, that’s a purse, if it is oblong, it’s a coffin.
If the cock crows at midnight it sees the Angel of Death over a house. Dogs and ravens also seem to have similar abilities. Does this include Bjornaer magi?
Cornwall: Charms and prophetic powers part I
In this chapter, Hunt begins to just throw miscellany together: a habit he continues for the rest of the book. This makes his work incoherent when boiled down into game notes. In general much of this chapter is made up of Cornish charms specific to a particular illness. Virtually all of them are Christian prayers, so they are arguably guaranteed miracles. That’s theologically troublesome in period, but that doesn’t seem to stop anyone.
I won’t include the wording of the charms, because they are wordy, repetitive, and there’s no point mechanically. They map to the game mechanics as minor curing spells, specific to each illness, that work without vis. Each is therefore a Virtue. Some charmers refuse payment: others take it. This isn’t an infallible way of sorting the virtuous ones from the vicious, but it makes a fine first sieve. The power runs in families.
The Charmers of Zennor can cure a variety of illnesses, but their most famous charm is the stopping of blood. It can keep alive someone who has been deeply injured, much as Hermetic spells to bind wounds do, save that the person seems to heal while the charm is in place. The Zennor charmers are unusual in that they can stop blood merely by thinking their charm: most people need to say it. The charms are passed down within each gender. It’s not clear what happens if this prohibition is broken. An example of a charm, as written down by Hunt, requires the complete name of the target, but he also notes a charmer who stops the bleeding of a stuck pig, so there must be away around that, at least in the cases of livestock.
The Charmer of St Colomb used to convince people he had magical powers by putting patterns of candles in his fields. He claimed it counteracted, and protected him from, the spells of witches. If he’s invented a version of a Ward, that’s interesting. He would send away evil spirits by banging on wooden furniture, walls, and shutters with his walking stick, and telling the spirits to go away to the Red Sea. He also spoke nonsense words, which Hunt tells us are called “gibberish” in Cornish. After a place was exorcised, he would order it cleaned and the walls and ceiling limewashed. Hunt says this is the only part of the procedure he approves of, but this may be a substance inimical to local faeries or demons. He could also show the face of a thief in a tub of water, and made money selling powder to throw over bewitched cattle. All in all, if we accept him either as a conman or as a folk magician, he’s a useful character available to the covenant.
Cures for Warts: You can cure warts by touching each with a new pin, then putting the pins in a bottle and burying it. As the pins rust, the warts go. There’s a similar charm with knotted string: one knot per wart. Hunt tells of a curate who found a pin bottle in a new grave: presumably put there so it would not be disturbed. In a related piece of folklore, he says if you touch each wart with a pebble and put it in a bag, then lose the bag on the way to church. If someone picks up the bag, however, they get the warts, so burying it might be the more social option. Could this be, slightly disgusting, Corpus vis source?
Silver for paralysis: Hunt records a lady begging for pennies on the porch of a church. When she has thirty, she goes inside and the priest changes them for a silver coin. The lady painfully hobbles around the altar three times, and then goes off to have her coin made into a ring, which cures her arthritis. Everyone involved seems to know how the charm works.
The fonts in Cornwall have locks on them, because people keep stealing the water from after christenings. Hunt says they call it “holy water” and use it in folk charms.
Magical herbs are perfect vis sources, so I’ll quote directly from Hunt, here:
THE CLUB-MOSS.
(LYCOPODIUM INUNDATUM.)
IF this moss is properly gathered, it is ” good against all diseases of the eyes.”
The gathering is regarded as a mystery not to be lightly told ; and if any man ventures to write the secret, the virtues of the moss avail him no more. I hope, therefore, my readers will fully value the sacrifice I make in giving them the formula by which they may be guided.
On the third day of the moon when the thin crescent is seen for the first time show it the knife with which the moss is to be cut, and repeat, ” As Christ heal’d the issue of blood, Do thou cut, what thou cuttest, for good ! “
At sun-down, having carefully washed the hands, the club-moss is to be cut kneeling. It is to be carefully wrapped in a white cloth, and subsequently boiled in some water taken from the spring nearest to its place of growth. This may be used as a fomentation. Or the club-moss may be made into an ointment, with butter made from the milk of a new cow.
MOON SUPERSTITIONS.
THE following superstitions are still prevalent on the north coast of Cornwall : “This root (the sea-poppy), so much valued for removing all pains in the breast, stomach, and intestines, is good also for disordered lungs, and is so much better here than in other places, that the apothecaries of Cornwall send hither for it; and some people plant them in their gardens in Cornwall, and will not part with them under sixpence a root.
A very simple notion they have with regard to this root, which falls not much short of the Druids’ superstition in gathering and preparing their selago and samolus. This root, you must know, is accounted very good both as an emetic and cathartic. If, therefore, they design that it shall operate as the former, their constant opinion is that it should be scraped and sliced upwards that is, beginning from the root, the knife is to ascend towards the leaf; but if that it is intended to operate as a cathartic, they must scrape the root downwards. The scnecio also, or groundsel, they strip upwards for an emetic and downwards for a cathartic. In Cornwall they have several such groundless opinions with regard to plants, and they gather all the medicinal ones when the moon is just such an age ; which, with many other such whims, must be considered as the reliques of the Druid superstition.”
They, the Druids, likewise used great ceremonies in gathering an herb called samolus, marsh-wort, or fen-berries, which consisted in a previous fast, in not looking back during the time of their plucking it, and, lastly, in using their left hand only ; from this last ceremony, perhaps, the herb took the name of samol, which, in the Phoenician tongue, means the left hand. This herb was considered to be particularly efficacious in curing the diseases incident to swine and cattle. (C. S. Gilbert.}”
I particularly like the herb that has different effects based on the direction you cut it. I’d like a Bonisagus maga who studies this, because she can get Creo vis one way and Perdo the other, and that makes no sense to her.
Hunt then finds temporary coherence to talk about snake charms, which I’ll cover tomorrow. See you then!
Cornwall: charms and prophetic powers part 2 – serpents
Hunt scatters them a little in this chapter, but there are enough serpent charms to make a decent blog post, so I’ll gather them here. In advance I’ll flag that if you have a serpent Bjornaer magus or a snake familiar: these may refer to your character or your companion.
Do charms scale?
Hunt notes that “The body of a dead serpent, bruised on the wound…is said to be an infallible remedy for its bite” My question is: does this scale? Can you mice up a dragon and turn it into poultices to cure the people made sick by its vapours? Similarly, he later says: “When an adder or snake is seen, a circle is to be rapidly drawn around it, and the sign of the cross made within it, while the two first verses of the 68th Psalm are repeated : “Let God arise, let his enemies be scattered; let them also that hate him flee before him.
” As smoke is driven away, so drive them away ; as wax melteth before the fire, so let the wicked perish at the presence of God.”
When a child, I well remember being shown a snake, not yet dead, within a circle of this kind ; the gardener who drew my attention to the reptile informing me that he had charmed it in the manner related. ” Likewise, does this work with dragons? Is it a faerie ward?
Milpreves
The downs of Cornwall, particularly near Land’s End, are thick with adders at certain times of year, and the best way to protect yourself is to carry an adder stone, or “milpreve”. These are created when many adders get together. Hunt, rational explanation at the ready, suggests these are madrepore corals which have washed up on the shore. Let us temporise by saying that milpreves look a lot like coralline limestone, even if they are made of young, petrified snakes. These are a vis source.
Time for a quote “Camden asserts that one of the prevailing superstitions concerning them was that, about midsummer-eve, they all met together in companies, and, joining their heads, began a general hiss, which they continued until a kind of bubble was formed, which immediately hardened, and gave to the finder prosperity in all his undertakings.” If it gives general luck, then the vis source’s secondary power seems to be that it grants a minor Virtue. Perhaps it gives a reroll or a Confidence point?
Later, Hunt mentions a source which calls these stones a “milprer”, meaning “a thousand worms”. They find a sleeping snake, say a charm and “strike it with a hazel wand in the centre of its spirae.” which means “coils” but I’ve included it because Spira seems like a great maga name (it’s feminine) and I want to keep it for later.
Concerted action
Adders in Cornwall seem to come to each other’s aid, when one is trapped or attacked. Do they have a communication system, a group mind, or are they the servants of a faerie? In the story given by Hunt, a man traps an adder with a pail of milk, and then when thousands of others come to aid it, all of his neighbours get together to make a furze (bracken) pile over them and incinerate the lot.
Druid rings
Time for a direct quote/ This is Carew in Hunt.
“The country people retaine a conceite, that the snakes, by their breathing upon a hazel-wand, doe make a stone ring of blew colour, in which there appeareth the yellow figure of a snake, and that beasts which are stung, being given to drink of the water wherein this stone hath bene socked, will there-through recover.” This was clearly one of the so-called “Druidic rings,” examples of which may be seen in our museums, which have been found in England and in Ireland. It is curious that at the glassworks ot Murano, near Venice, they still make rings, or beads, precisely resembling he ancient ones, and these are used largely as money in Africa.” Again, a vis source, and one a familiar might make. Hunt notes the same things are called “Druid stones” or “Druid glass” in various other Celtic countries.
A childhood familiar?
SNAKES AVOID THE ASH-TREE.
IT is said that no kind of snake is ever found near the ” ashen- tree,” and that a branch of the ash-tree will prevent a snake from coming near a person. A child who was in the habit of receiving its portion of bread and milk at the cottage door, was found to be in the habit of sharing its food with one of the poisonous adders. The reptile came regularly every morning, and the child, pleased with the beauty of his companion, encouraged the visits. The babe and adder were close friends.
Eventually this became known to the mother, and, finding it to be a matter of difficulty to keep the snake from the child whenever it was left alone, and she was frequently, being a labourer in the fields, compelled to leave her child to shift for itself, she adopted the precaution of binding an ” ashen-twig ” about its body.
The adder no longer came near the child ; but from that day forward the child pined, and eventually died, as all around said, through grief at having lost the companion by whom it had been fascinated.
So, that’s an origin story for an apprentice.
Tomorrw: more of Hunt’s random stuff thrown together, and why goo in mineshafts might be animal vis, or from beyond the stars.
Cornwall: Charms and prophetic powers part 3 – light, fire and mucus
In the last third of this chapter, Hunt just throws it his research together and hopes it congeals. Let’s fossick it for roleplaying hooks.
Fire, Light, and Lightning
Hunt has various folktales about fire. These include the spitting test for truth, seen in a previous chapter.
There’s a tradition that if people light a bonfire and form a dancing ring about it, if they can stamp it out with their feet before breaking hands, no-one in the circle will die within a year. Ill luck to whomever broke the circle first, otherwise.
In Cornwall, when sinners convert, they see lights, like Paul on the road to Damascus. Others sometimes see them too.
The sun literally does not shine on perjurers. They cannot see its light, or feel its warmth, although this does not affect those near them. They see all things dimly, as if in smoke or moonlight, and are always cold. They become pale, like an invalid kept forever inside. A magus can fabricate this sort of thing with a spell, to vex local judicial practices.
The Celtic arrowheads which elsewhere are considered the remanants of elfshot are, in Cornwall, believed to be produced by thunder. They fall from the clouds, and change colour to predict the weather. Water in which they have been soaked also cures diseases. So, an Auram vis source with a secondary use?
Mucus
Sorry, I’m just going to quote this one. I’ve heard it before and I love it. It’s a Muto vis source, clearly, but it’s bad news for a Bjornaer magus of this type, who spends winter in a bucket or down a well.
Migratory birds
“I FIND a belief still prevalent amongst the people in the out- lying districts of Cornwall, that such birds as the cuckoo and the swallow remain through the winter in deep caves, cracks in the earth, and in hollow trees ; and instances have been cited of these birds having been found in a torpid state in the mines, and in hollow pieces of wood. This belief appears to be of some antiquity, for Carew writes in his ” Survey of Cornwall ” as follows : ” In the west parts of Cornwall, during the winter season, swallows are found sitting in old deep tynne-works, and holes in the sea cliffes ; but touching their lurking-places, Olaus Magmts maketh a far stranger report. For he saith that in the north parts of the world, as summer weareth out, they clap mouth to mouth, wing to wing, and legge to legge, and so, after a sweet singing, fall downe into certain lakes or pools amongst the caves, from whence at the next spring they receive a new resurrection ; and he
addeth, for proofe thereof, that the fishermen who make holes in the ice, to dig up such fish in their nets as resort thither for breathing, doe sometimes light on these swallows congealed in clods, of a slymie substance, and that, carrying them home to their stoves, the warmth restored them to life and flight.”
A man employed in the granite quarries near Penryn, informed me that he found such a “slymie substance” in one of the pools in the quarry where he was working, that he took it home, warmth proved it to be a bird, but when it began to move it was seized by the cat, who ran out on the downs and devoured it.
The stuff of shooting stars
There’s a glowing slime found in the quarries of Penryn at night, which folklore says is caused by shooting stars, and may contain some of their substance. Hunt says that it is frogs’ eggs, thrown up by crows, but I see no reason that should be so in Mythic Europe. At minimum it is Auram vis: at best it is stuff from beyond the lunar sphere that has antimagical properties because of its extraordinary origin.
Ill luck
It is unlucky to kill a robin or a wren, and the curse persists all the days of a person’s life, hence a local ditty “Those who kill a robin or a wran, will never propser, boy or man.” This seems odd to be, because I was boguht up on Susan Cooper, where people go guising with a dead wren in Wales. Then again, the process brings her back to life.
It’s unlucky to be born in May, and kittens born in that month are put to death. Except if cat familiars have anything to say about it. That’s terrible.
Hens that crow at night are killed, which hardly seems fair, because cocks that crow at night, as seen in a previous chapter, don’t actually cause the angel of death to come. They just mention his passing.
It’s bad luck to see the new moon, for the first time, through glass. Go outside, take a look, and show the moon a piece of money.
A person who does not kill the first butterfly they see for the season will have ill luck the whole year. Again,, you’d need a faerie to be behind that to make an adventure of it.
Whistling
“TO whistle by night is one of the unpardonable sins amongst the fishermen of St Ives. My correspondent says, ” I would no more dare go among a party of fishermen at night whistling a popular air than into a den of untamed tigers.”
No miner will allow of whistling underground. I could never learn from the miners whether they regarded it as unlucky or not. I rather think they feel that whistling indicates thoughtlessness, and they know their labour is one of danger, requiring serious
attention.” It’s a sort of low-level, self imposed curse.
Random extra bits
Each town has a nickname that pokes fun at the people who live there. One village’s people are called “congers” because they threw an eel (conger) in the water to drown it. Another are called “gulls” because they threw a gull off a cliff to break its neck.Notably the people near a church called Mariadoci are called Mearageeks, “the geeks from Meara”. Apparently “geek” or “gawk” in Cornish means an awkward person.
“AN old tradition the particulars of which I have failed to recover says that a flock of sheep were blown from the Gwithian Sands over into St Ives Bay, and that the St Ives fisher- men caught them, believing them to be a new variety of fish, either in their nets, or with hook and line, and brought them ashore as their night’s catch.” Strong belief brings faeries. Does this create a merrymaid shepherdess?
Cornwall: customs of ancient days – part 1
Hunt provides us with a series of festivals in this chapter, which he has placed into near- calendar order. That’s very convenient, and it means that this will eventually be the skeleton of a chapter in the gazetter, giving seasonal ideas for the covenant’s life. Some of these festivals just need to be flagged so they can be expanded later, and some have story seeds obvious in them already. In previous weeks I’ve been trying to boil; the raw material of Hunt’s work down more, but this chapter has a lot of colour in it I want to keep, for tone in the final gazetter, so I hope readers will pardon voluminous quotation.
New Years’ Day: Sanding the steps
It is unlucky for a woman to be the first to enter a house on New Year’s Day, so it is traditional to pay boys to put sand on the steps, and in the all. Packs of boys rove around offering this service. Is it a single shapeshifting lady this tradition is aimed at? Clearly she’s a faerie. Does she personally hate sand? Some vampires hate sand (they need to count the grains).
January 4: Drinking to the apple trees on Twelfth Night Eve.
“IN the eastern part of Cornwall, and in western Devonshire, it was the custom to take a milk-panful of cider, into which roasted apples had been broken, into the orchard This was placed as near the centre of the orchard as possible, and each person, taking a “” clomben ” cup of the drink, goes to different apple-trees, and addresses them as follows :
‘ ‘ Health to the good apple-tree ; Well to bear, pocketfuls, hatfuls, peckfuls, bushel-bagfuls.” Drinking part of the contents of the cup, the remainder, with the fragments of the roasted apples, is thrown at the tree, all the company shouting aloud. Another account tells us, ” In certain parts of Devonshire, the farmer, attended by his workmen, goes to the orchard this evening ; and there, encircling one of the best-bearing
trees, they drink the following toast three times :
‘ Here ‘s to thee, old apple-tree ; Hence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow,
And whence thou mayst bear apples enow ! Hats full ! caps full ! Bushel, bushel-sacks full! And my pockets full, too ! Huzza !’
This done, they return to the house, the doors of which they are sure to find bolted by the females, who, be the weather what it may, are inexorable to all entreaties to open them, till some one has guessed what is on the spit, which is generally some nice little thing difficult to be hit on, and is the reward of him who first names it. The doors are then thrown open, and the lucky clodpole receives the tit-bit as his recompense. Some are so superstitious as to believe that if they neglect this custom, the trees will bear no apples that year.”
Christmas-eve was selected in some parts of England as the occasion for wishing health to the apple-tree. Apples were roasted on a string until they fell into a pan of spiced ale, placed to receive them. This drink was called lamb’s-wool, and with it the trees were wassailed, as in Devonshire and Cornwall. Herrick alludes to the custom : ” Wassaile the trees, that they may beare You many a plum, and many a peare ; For more or lesse fruits they will bring, And you do give them wassailing.”…In some localities apples are blessed on St James’s Day, July 25.
January 5: Twelfth Night Cake
“THE custom, apparently a very ancient one, of putting certain articles into a rich cake, is still preserved in many districts. Usually, sixpence, a wedding-ring, and a silver thimble are employed. These are mixed up with the dough, and baked in the cake. At night the cake is divided. The person who secures the sixpence will not want money for that year ; the one who has the ring will be the first married ; and the possessor cf the thimble
will die an old maid.”
Hunt also quotes a lengthy poem in which each household makes a large cake, all members are given a piece, and whoever gets the penny is the king of the festivity.
Plough Monday (first Monday after Epiphany): Geese dancing
“THE first Monday after Twelfth-day is Plough Monday, and it is the ploughman’s holiday.
At this season, in the Islands of Scilly, at St Ives, Penzance, and other places, the young people exercise a sort of gallantrj called “geese-dancing.” The maidens are dressed up for young men, and the young men for maidens ; and, thus disguised, they visit their neighbours in companies, where they dance, and make jokes upon what has happened during the year, and every one is humorously ” told their own,” without offence being taken. By this sort of sport, according to yearly custom and toleration, there is a spirit of wit and drollery kept up among the people. The music and dancing done, they are treated with liquor, and then they go to the next house, and carry on the same sport…The…term…is…derived from “dance deguiser”, hence guise-dancing, or geese-dancing, by corruption.
February: Shrove Tuesday
Boys march around in groups, carriying cords weighted with stones, and beating on doors. In St Ives they sing “Give me a pancake, now-now-now. / Or I’ll souse in your door with a row-tow-tow” What happens if a boy making his cord uses a stone with a natural hold in it (an elfstone)? Does this create a minor magical item that attract the fae?
Nearest Sunday to April 28th
“The parish feast takes place on the nearest Sunday to the 28th 1 of April. It happened in very early times, when winters extended further into the spring than they now do, that one of the old inhabitants resolved to be jovial, notwithstanding the inclemency of the season ; so he invited all his neighbours, and to warm his house he placed on the burning faggots the stump of a tree. It began to blaze, and, inspired by the warmth and light, they began to sing and drink ; when, lo ! with a whiz and a whir, out flew a bird from the hollow in the stump, crying, Cuckoo ! cuckoo ! The bird was caught and kept by the farmer, and he and his friends resolved to renew the festal meeting every year at this date, and to call it their ” cuckoo feast.”
Previous to this event Towednack had no “feasten Sunday,” which made this parish a singular exception to the rule in Cornwall. This feast is sometimes called “crowder” feast, because the fiddler formed a procession at the church door, and led the people
through the village to some tune on his ” crowd.””
Since we have seen cuckoos are gelatinous in the winter, and valuable, could these men have a secret to finding them? If we assume for story’s sake they have a cuckoo wake at every annual feast, how do they know where they are sleeping?
May-day
Hunt clearly loved this, so I’ll quote him in full, for tone. Note the Imaginem vis source.
“THE first of May is inaugurated with much uproar. As soon as the clock has told of midnight, a loud blast on tin trumpets proclaims the advent of May. This is long continued. At daybreak, with their “tintarrems,” they proceed to the country, and strip the sycamore-trees (called May-trees) of all their young branches, to make whistles. With these shrill musical instruments they return home. Young men and women devote May-day to junketing and pic-nics.
It was a custom at Penzance, and probably at many other Cornish towns, when the author was a boy, for a number of young people to sit up until twelve o’clock, and then to march round the town with violins and fifes, and summon their friends to the Maying.
When all were gathered, they went into the country, afTu^ were welcomed at the farmhouses at which they called, with some refreshment in the shape of rum and milk, junket, or something of that sort. They then gathered the ” May,” which included the young
branches of any tree in blossom or fresh leaf. The branches of the sycamore were especially cut for the purpose of making the ” Maymusic.”
This was done by cutting a circle through the bark to the wood a few inches from the end of the branch. The bark was wetted and carefully beaten until it was loosened and could be slid off from the wood. The wood was cut angularly at the end, so as to form a mouth-piece, and a slit was made in both the bark and the wood, so that when the bark was replaced a whistle was formed. Prepared with a sufficient number of May whistles, all the party returned to the town, the band playing, whistles blowing, and the young people singing some appropriate song.”
Junket, by the way, is a jelly made with milk. Rum is post-period.
8 May: The Furry in Helstone
Hunt quotes” The Every Day Book” here:
On the 8th of May, at Helstone, in Cornwall, is held what is called the Furry. The word is supposed by Mr Polwhele to have been derived from the old Cornish word fer, a fair or jubilee. The morning is ushered in by the music of drums and kettles, and other accompaniments of a song, a great part of which is inserted in Mr Polwhele’s history, where this circumstance is noticed. So strict is the observance of this day as a general
holiday, that should any person be found at work, he is instantly seized, set astride on a pole, and hurried on men’s shoulders to the river, where he is sentenced to leap over a wide place, which he, of course, fails in attempting, and leaps into the water. A small contribution towards the good cheer of the day easily compounds for the leap. About nine o’clock the revellers appear before the grammar-school, and demand a holiday for the schoolboys, after which they collect a contribution from houses.
They then fade in to the country (fade being an old English word for “go”) and in the middle of the day return with flowers and oak branches in their hats and caps. From this time they dance hand in hand through the streets, to the sound of the fiddle, playing a particular tune, running into every house they pass without opposition. In the afternoon a select party of the ladies and gentlemen make a progress through the street, and very
late in the evening repair to the ball-room. A stranger visiting the town on the eighth of May would really think the people mad, so apparently wild and thoughtless is the merriment of the day. There is no doubt of ‘the Furry’ originating from the ‘Floralia,’ anciently observed by the Romans on the fourth of the calends of May.”
This sounds like a day off for apprentices, and the grogs get to tax the magi (or watch as they cheat to ump the river).
June: Midsummer Night
“IF on midsummer-eve a young woman takes off the shift which she has been wearing, and, having washed it, turns its wrong side out, and hangs it in silence over the back of a chair, near the fire, she will see, about midnight, her future husband, who deliberately
turns the garment..
If a young lady will, on midsummer-eve, walk backwards into the garden and gather a rose, she has the means of knowing who is to be her husband. The rose must be cautiously sewn up in a paper bag, and put aside in a dark drawer, there to remain until Christmas-day. On the morning of the Nativity the bag must be carefully opened in silence, and the rose placed by the lady in her bosom. Thus she must wear it to church. Some young man will either ask for the rose, or take it from her without asking. That young man is destined to become eventually the lady’s husband.
“At eve last midsummer no sleep I sought, But to the field a bag of hemp-seed brought ; I scatter’d round the seed on every side, And three times in a trembling accent cried,
‘ This hemp-seed with my virgin hand I sow, Who shall my true love be, the crop shall mow.’ I straight look’d back, and, if my eyes speak truth, With his keen scythe behind me came the youth.” Gay’s Pastorals.
The practice of sowing hemp-seed on midsummer-eve is not especially a Cornish superstition, yet it was at one time a favourite practice with young women to try the experiment. Many a strange story have I been told as to the result of the sowing, and many a trick could I tell off, which has been played off by young men who had become acquainted with the secret intention of some maidens. I believe there is but little difference in the rude rhyme used on the occasion,
“Hemp-seed I sow, Hemp-seed I hoe,”
(the action of sowing the seed and of hoeing it in, must be deliberately gone through) ; “And he Who will my true love be, Come after me and mow.” A phantom of the true lover will now appear, and of course the maid or maidens retire in wild affright.
If a young unmarried woman stands at midnight on Midsummer-eve in the porch of the parish church, she will see, passing by in procession, every one who will die in the parish during the year. This is so serious an affair that it is not, i believe, often tried. I have, however, heard of young women who have made the experiment. But every one of the stories relate that, coming last in the procession, they have seen shadows of themselves ; that from that day forward they have pined, and ere midsummer has again come round, that they have been laid to rest in the village graveyard.”
The magi can intervene in either of these processes, and grogs can, discovering the intention of the maidens, give them a scare. Can magi prevent a girl who has stood the porch from dying? What power grants the visions?
End of Harvest: Crying the Neck
To be hinest I don’t know what I want to do with this, but I have a hunch I can use it for something, so I’m keeping it instead of cutting it as I should. I hope you’ll pardon me.
“After the wheat is all cut on most farms in Cornwall and Devon, the harvest people have a custom of “crying the neck.” I believe that this practice is seldom omitted on any large farm in these counties. It is done in this way. An old man, or some one else well acquainted with the ceremonies used on the occasion (when the labourers are reaping the last field of wheat), goes round to the shocks and sheaves, and picks out a little bundle of all the best ears he can find ; this bundle he ties up very neat and trim, and plaits and arranges the straws veiy tastefully. This is called ” the neck ” of wheat, or wheaten-ears. After the field is cut out, and the pitcher once more circulated, the reapers, binders, and the women stand round in a circle. The person with ” the neck ” stands in the centre, grasping it with both his hands. He first stoops and holds it near the ground, and all the men forming the ring take off their hats, stooping and holding them with both hands towards the ground. They then all begin at once, in a very prolonged and harmonious tone, to cry, ” The neck ! “at the same time slowly raising themselves upright, and elevating their arms and hats above their heads ; the person with the neck also raising it on high. This is done three times. They then change their cry to ” We yen ! we yen ! ” which they sound in the same pro- longed and slow manner as before, with singular harmony and effect, three times. This last cry is accompanied by the same movements of the body and arms as in crying ” the neck.”
Well, after this they all burst out into a kind of loud, joyous laugh, flinging up their hats and caps into the air, capering about, and perhaps kissing the girls. One of them then gets ” the neck,” and runs as hard as he can down to the farmhouse, where the dairy-maid, or one of the young female domestics, stands at the door prepared with a pail of water. If he who holds ” the neck” can manage to get into the house in any way unseen, or openly by any other way than the door at which the girl stands with the pail of water, then he may lawfully kiss her ; but, if otherwise he is regularly soused with the contents of the bucket….The object of crying ” the neck ” is to give notice to the surrounding country of the end of the harvest, and the meaning of ” we yen” is ” we have ended.’” It may probably mean ” we end,” which the uncouth and provincial pronunciation has corrupted into ” we yen.” . The ” neck ” is generally hung up in the farmhouse, where it often re- mains for three or four years.”
31 October: Allan-apples at St Ives
“The ancient custom of providing children with a large apple on Allhallows-eve is still observed, to a great extent, at St Ives. “Allan-day,” as it is called, is the day of days to hundreds of children, who would deem it a great misfortune were they to go to bed on ”
Allan-night ” without the time-honoured Allan apple to hide beneath their pillows. A quantity of large apples are thus disposed of, the sale of which is dignified by the term Allan Market.”
25 December: Christmas
Hunt notes a tradition in western Devonshire that at midnight on Christmas day, oxen in their stalls all go down on their knees, as if in prayer.
Guise dancing, as described above, is common in the Twelve Days of Christmas in St Ives, and perhaps elsewhere. The guise dances in St Ives include vast pantomime plays, with more participants than viewers. It’s also a time for telling hard truths to friends, and for breaking courtships.
Apprentices get three days off after Christmas, not including the Sunday.
Christmas plays: “St George, and the other tragic performers, are dressed out some- what in the style of morris-dancers, in their shirt sleeves and white trousers, much decorated with ribbons and handkerchiefs, each carrying a drawn sword in his hand, if they can be procured, otherwise a cudgel. They wear high caps of pasteboard, adorned with beads, small pieces of looking glass, coloured paper, &c. ; several long strips of pith generally hang down from the top, with small pieces of different coloured cloth strung on them ; the whole has a very smart effect.
Father Christmas is personified in a grotesque manner, as an ancient man wearing a large mask and wig, and a huge club, wherewith he keeps the bystanders in order.
he Doctor, who is generally the merryandrew of the piece, is dressed in any ridiculous way, with a wig, three-cornered hat, and painted face. The other comic characters are dressed according to fancy.
The femafe, where there is one, is usually in the dress worn half a century ago.
The hobbyhorse, which is a character sometimes introduced, wears a representation of a horse’s hide. Beside the regular drama of ” St George,” many parties of mummers go
about in fancy dresses of every sort, most commonly the males in female
attire, and vice versa.”
I won’t give the full scripts, but there are tow lines which strike my attention, during the fight between the Turkish Knight and Saint George. One is from the Doctor:
“I have a little bottle, which goes by the name of Elicumpane ; If the man is alive, let him rise and fight again.” What is that? The other oddity is this:
“Stage directions [The latter is knocked down, and left for dead. Then another performer enters, and, on seeing the dead body, says] “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust ; If Uncle Tom Pearce won’t have him, Aunt Molly must.”
[The hobbyhorse here capers in, and takes off the body.]
So, the hobbyhorse, which gets sacrificed to the sea after this is over, carries off the supposed corpse? That seems macabre and needs an explanation in the final gazetteer.
Cornwall: Customs of ancient days 2 – Sham mayors
Several Cornish towns elect “sham mayors”. These seem to be similar to Lords of Misrule. When I boil this down, it’s likely to be a mystery, or a possessing faerie power. Today’s just wall to wall Hunt.
Mylor
“There was a curious custom in the town’ of Penryn in Cornwall, which long outlived all modern innovations. On some particular day in September or October (I forget the exact date), about when the hazel-nuts are ripe, the festival of nutting-day is kept. The rabble of the town go into the country to gather nuts, returning in the evening with boughs of hazel in their hands, shouting and making a great noise. In the meantime the journeymen tailors of the town have proceeded to the adjoining village of Mylor,
and elected one of their number “Mayor of Mylor,” taking care the selection falls on the wittiest. Seated in a chair shaded with green boughs, and borne on the shoulders of four stalwart men, the worthy mayor proceeds from his “good town of Mylor” to his “ancient borough of Penryn,” the van being led by the ” bodyguard” of stout fellows well armed with cudgels, which they do not fail to use should their path be obstructed, torch-bearers,
and two ” town Serjeants,” clad in official gowns and cocked hats, and carrying each a monstrous cabbage on his shoulder in lieu of a mace. The rear is brought up by the rabble of the ” nutters.” About mid-day a band of music meets them, and plays them to Penryn, where they are received by the entire population. The procession proceeds to the town-hall, in front of which the mayor delivers a speech, declaratory of his intended improvements, &c., for the coming year, being generally an excellent sarcastic burlesque on the speeches of parliamentary candidates. The procession then moves on to each public-house door, where the mayor, his council, and officers, are liberally supplied with liquor, and the speech is repeated with variations. They then adjourn to the ” council-chamber,” in some public-house, and devote the night to drinking. At night the streets are filled with people bearing torches, throwing fireballs, and discharging rockets ; and huge bonfires are kindled on the ” Green,” and ” Old Wall.” The legal mayor once made an effort to put a stop to this saturnalia, but his new-made brother issued prompt orders to his body-guards, and the posse comitatus had to fly.
The popular opinion is, that there is a clause in the borough charter compelling the legitimate mayor to surrender his power to the “Mayor of Mylor” on the night in question, and to lend the town sergeants’ paraphernalia to the gentlemen of the shears.
St Germains
One of the first objects that attracts attention on entering the village of St Germans is the large walnut-tree, at the foot of what is called Nut-Tree Hill. In the early part of the present century there was a very ancient dwelling a few yards south-east of this
tree, which was supposed to have been the residence of some ecclesiastic of former times. Many a gay May-fair has been witnessed by the old tree ; in the morning of the 28th of the month, splendid fat cattle, from some of the largest and best farms in the county, quietly chewed the cud around its trunk ; in the afternoon the basket-swing dangled from its branches, filled with merry laughing boys and girls from every part of the parish. On the following day, the mock mayor, who had been chosen with many
formalities, remarkable only for their rude and rough nature, starting from some “bush-house,” where he had been supping too freely of the fair ale, was mounted on wain or cart, and drawn around it, to claim his pretended jurisdiction over the ancient borough, until his successor was chosen at the following fair. Leaving the old nut-tree, which is a real ornament to the town, we pass by a stream of water running into a large trough, in which many a country lad has been drenched for daring to enter the town on the 20th of May without the leaf or branch of oak in his hat.
Halgaver Moor
The people of Bodmin had an old custom of assembling in large numbers on Halgaver Moor in the month of July, and electing a “Mayor of Misrule,” for the punishment of petty offenders. Our old historian gives a quaint description. ” The youthlyer sort of Bodmin townsmen use sometimes to sport themselves by playing the box with strangers, whom they summon to Halgaver ; the name signifieth the Goats’ Moore, and such a place it is, lying a little without the town, and very full of quagmires. When these mates meet with any raw serving-man or other young master, who may serve and deserve to make pastime, they cause him to be solemnly arrested for his appearance before the Mayor of Halgaver, where he is charged with wearing one spur, or wanting a girdle, or some such like felony, and after he hath been arraigned and tried with all requisite circumstances, judgment is given in formal terms, and executed in some one ungracious prank or other, more to the scorn than hurt of the party condemned. Hence is sprung the proverb, when we see one slovenly apparelled, to say, ‘He shall be presented in Halgaver Court.’
The Duke of Restormel
“A VERY singular custom formerly prevailed at Lostwithiel, in Cornwall, on Easter Sunday. The freeholders of the town and manor having assembled together, either in person or by their deputies, one among them, each in his turn, gaily attired and gallantly mounted, with a sceptre in his hand, a crown on his head, and a sword borne before him, and respectfully attended by all the rest on horseback, rode through the principal street in solemn state to the church. At the churchyard stile, the curate, or other minister, approached to meet him in reverential pomp, and then conducted him to church to hear divine service. On leaving the church, he repaired, with the same pomp and retinue, to a house previously prepared for his reception. Here a feast, suited to the dignity he had assumed, awaited him and his suite ; and, being placed at the head of the table, he was served, kneeling, with all the rites and ceremonies that a real prince might expect. This ceremony ended with the dinner ; the prince being voluntarily disrobed, and descending from his momentary exaltation, to mix with common mortals. On the origin of this custom but one opinion can be reasonably entertained, though it may be difficult to trace the precise period of its commencement. It seems to have originated in the actual appearance of the prince, who resided at Restormel Castle in former ages ; but, on the removal of royalty, this mimic grandeur stepped forth as its shadowy representative, and continued for many generations as a memorial to posterity of the princely magnificence with which Lostwithiel had formerly been honoured.”
Given that Prince Richard, the current prince of England, eventually lives at Rerstormel, I’m keeping this in case I need it. It may refer to him.
Cornwall: Saints and Holy Wells
During this concentration of Cornish material, I’m trying to focus on folklore that can be easily turned into story hooks. The problem with Hunt’s chapter on saints is that there’s not a lot of useful material, so for the first time, this podcast will boil down two chapters in a week.
Saints
Cornish saints are literal giants. There are several sets of stones that were physically thrown by saints, and they are described as completely titanic. St Just steals a chalice from Saint Keyene and when the wronged saint flings boulders, he creates the monoliths now known as the Crowza Stones. When Saint Sennen and Saint Just got annoyed and threw stones at each other. God in his wisdom made the stones strike each other and fall from the sky, again making a set of monoliths.
They are petty. St Leven curses anyone baptised “Joanna” in his parish to imbecility, after he has a minor dispute with a housewife of that name. St Leven also left a couple of other miracles floating around in 1220: the path from his house to his fishing spot is greener than surrounding land, and the rock he sat on to fish is cracked in half. This is because the saint struck it, and then prophecied that when a horse with panniers could walk through the crack, the world would be over. Leven once had two fish miraculously strike his hook at once, not once, but three times in succession. This was god’s way of telling him he had guests at home. The bones from the fish caught in the throats of the children who had dinner with him, so the Cornish call them choke-children.
Saint Brechan was a king in Wales. He 28 children, 15 of whom were saints after whom Cornish parishes are named. The most famous is Saint Kenye, whose holy well has the property that if newlyweds drink from it, the one who partakes first will have the power in the relationship.
Saint Denis is named for the patron of Paris. When he was beheaded, blood fell from the sky in St Denis in Cornwall, hence the name. The bloodstains reappeared before plagues struck in London.
St Kea floated to Cornwall from Ireland on a lump of stone, transformed into an impromptu raft by God.
St Neot is only 16 inches high. He seemed to get disciples in an instant: animal or human.
St German was sent to Cornwall to defeat the Pelegian heresy, but failed. When a mob formed to martyr him, his tears became a well, and a burning chariot guided by two angels whisked him away. The burns from the wheels of the chariot are still visible, and Germans cursed his church as he left, stripping it of its holiness.
St Piran
Saint Piran had done various miracles in Ireland, but he was to be put to death. He’d fed the armies of ten kings for ten days with just three cows, bought his hounds back from the dead, and then raised fallen warriors. The kings turned against him and sentenced him to death. He was chained to a millstone, which was rolled off a seacliff. In a miracle, it floated to Cornwall.
Piran was baking in an oven he’d made out of stones, and a line of silver metal dripped from it. He discussed this with his friend St Chiwidden, “knew the mysteries of the East”. They worked out that the black rock that made up part of the oven was an ore, and how to smelt it properly. The called the Cornish together and explained the nature of the treasure they’d found. Days of feasting followed, which is the ancestor of the current saint’s day celebration. The flag of Cornwall: a white cross on black ground, represents the metal and ore.
A possible covenant?
St Nectan’s Kieve is a waterfall and lake near Tintagel. When Saint Nectan was dying, he dropped his silver bell into the pool. After his death two sisters came from the East and tided up all of Nectan’s effects, and his body, and buried them. They diverted the river, drained the kieve, interred the saint and his treasures, and then allowed the river to resume its course.
This pair strike me as a potential covenant. Time for some Hunt. “The oratory was dismantled, and the two ladies, women evidently of high birth, chose it for their dwelling. Their seclusion was perfect. Both appeared to be about the same age, and both were inflexibly taciturn. One was never seen without the other. If they ever left the house, they only left it to walk in the more unfrequented parts of the wood ; they kept no servant ; they never had a visitor ; no living soul but themselves ever crossed the door of their cottage. The berries of the wood, a few roots which they cultivated, with snails gathered from the rocks and walls, and fish caught in the stream, served them for food. Curiosity was excited; the mystery which hung around this solitary pair became deepened by the obstinate silence which they observed in everything relating to themselves. The result of all this was an anxious endeavour, on the part of the superstitious and ignorant peasantry, to learn their secret. All was now conjecture, and the imagination commonly enough filled in a wild picture : devils or angels, as the case might be, were seen ministering to the solitary ones. Prying eyes were upon them, but the spies could glean no knowledge. Week, month, year passed by, and ungratified curiosity was dying through want of food, when it was discovered that one of the ladies had died. The peasantry went in a body to the chapel ; no one forbade their entering it now. There sat a silent mourner leaning over the placid face of her dead sister. Hers was, indeed, a silent sorrow no tear was in her eye, no sigh hove her chest, but the face told all that a remediless woe had fallen on her heart. The dead body was eventually removed, the living sister making no sign, and they left her in her solitude alone. Days passed on ; no one heard of, no one probably inquired after, the lonely one. At last a wandering child, curious as children are, clambered to the window of the cell and looked in. There sat the lady ; her handkerchief was on the floor, and one hand hung strangely, as if endeavouring to pick it up, but powerless to do so. The child told its story the people again flocked to the chapel, and they found one sister had followed the other. The people buried the last beside the first, and they left no mark to tell us where, unless the large flat stone which lies in the valley, a short distance from the foot of the fall, and beneath which, I was told some great person was buried may be the covering of their tomb. No trace of the history of these solitary women have ever been discovered.”
I think perhaps the snails and roots are vis sources, harvested and used to create sufficient food that they are entirely self-sufficient. Are they refugees from the loss of Lyonesse? Are they really sisters, or are they a maga and a familiar able to take human shape? Pets look like their owners in a literal sense in Ars Magica, and familiars often die slightly before or after their magi.
Holy Wells
Holy Wells are kind of like dependable miracles embedded in the landscape. Players can use them for their miracles, or to get bonuses for the Covenant’s Environment modifier since so many cure disease.
The Well of St Ludgvan: After arriving from Ireland and building a church, this missionary prayed for a holy well to appear, to draw people. Time for a bit more Hunt: “The holy man prayed on, and then, to try the virtues of the water, he washed his eyes. They were rendered at once more powerful, so penetrating, indeed, as to enable him to see microscopic objects. The saint prayed again, and then he drank of the water. He discovered that his powers of utterance were greatly improved, his tongue formed words with scarcely any effort of his will. The saint now prayed, that all children baptized in the waters of this well might be protected against the hangman and his hempen cord ; and an angel from heaven came down into the water, and promised the saint that his prayers should be granted. Not long after this, a good farmer and his wife brought their babe to the saint, that it might derive all the blessings belonging to this holy well. The priest stood at the baptismal font, the parents, with their friends around. The saint proceeded with the baptismal ceremonial, and at length the time arrived when he took the tender babe into his holy arms. He signed the sign of the cross over the child, and when he sprinkled water on the face of the infant its face glowed with a divine intelligence. The priest then proceeded with the prayer ; but, to the astonishment of all, whenever he used the name of Jesus, the child, who had received the miraculous power of speech, from the water, pronounced distinctly the name of the devil, much to the consternation of all present. The saint knew that an evil spirit had taken possession of the child, and he endeavoured to cast him out ; but the devil proved stronger than the saint for some time. St Ludgvan was not to be beaten ; he knew that the spirit was a restless soul, which had been exorcised from Treassow, and he exerted all his energies in prayer. At length the spirit became obedient, and left the child. He was now commanded by the saint to take his flight to the Red Sea. He rose, before the terrified spectators, into a gigantic size ; he then spat into the well ; he laid hold of the pinnacles of the tower, and shook the church until they thought it would fall. The saint was alone unmoved. He prayed on, until, like a flash of lightning, the demon vanished, shaking down a pinnacle in his flight. The demon, by spitting in the water, destroyed the spells of the water upon the eyes and the tongue too ; but it fortunately retains its virtue of preventing any child baptized in it from being hanged with a cord of hemp. Upon a cord of silk it is stated to have no power…The peasantry of the neighbouring districts began to send for the renowned water before christenings ; and many of them actually continue, to this day, to bring it corked up in bottles to their churches, and to beg particularly that it may be used whenever they present their children to be baptized.” Redruth’s Well has similar properties. This saint is known for always wearing a scarlet cloak, which seems odd.
Gulval Well predicts death and sickness of absent friends and family members. The querent prays by the well, and if the answer is good, the water bubbles, but if the person is ill, mud bubbles up instead. If the named person is dead, there is no change in the surface of the well..
Well of Saint Keyne as mentioned in previous podcasts, whichever of a newly-married couple is first to drink from the well will have the power in the relationship.
Maddern or Madron Well: This well has several properties in folklore. People take the water away, because it slowly cures bodily infirmities including, in some cases, being crippled. Some sources say you drink the water, others that you bathe in it. It’s also handy for lesser problems, like colic. Those who dip their hands in are burned of they are untrue in love. There’s a minor ritual which involves lying on the ground and offering little things, like pins to activate the well.
Time for a bit of Hunt: “I once witnessed the whole ceremony performed by a group of beautiful girls, who had walked on a May morning from Penzance. Two pieces of straw, about an inch long each, were crossed and the pin run through them. This cross was then dropped into the water, and the rising bubbles carefully counted, as they marked the number of years which would pass ere the arrival of the happy day. This practice also prevailed amongst the visitors to the well at the foot of Monacuddle Grove, near St Austell. On approaching the waters, each visitor is expected to throw in a crooked pin ; and, if you are lucky, you may possibly see the other pins rising from the bottom to meet the most recent offering. Rags and votive offerings to the genius of the waters are hung around many of the wells. Mr Couch says : At Madron Well, near Penzance, I observed the custom of hanging rags on the thorns which grew in the enclosure.”
The Well at Altar-Nun: Hunt quotes Carew “The water running from St Nun’s well fell into a square and enclosed walled plot, which might be filled at what depth they listed. Upon this wall was the frantic person put to stand, his back towards the pool, and from thence, with a sudden blow in the breast, tumbled headlong into the pond ; where a strong fellow, provided for the nonce, took him, and tossed him up and down, alongst and athwart the water, till the patient, by foregoing his strength, had somewhat forgot his fury. Then was he conveyed to the church, and certain masses said over him ; upon which handling, if his right wits returned, St Nun had the thanks ; but if there appeared small amendment, he was bowssened again and again, while there remained in him any hope of life or recovery.” The 2d of March is dedicated to St Nun, and the influence of the water is greatly exalted on that day….Its position was, until lately, to be discovered by the oak-tree matted with ivy, and the thicket of willow and bramble which grew upon its roof. The front of the well is of a pointed form, and has a rude entrance about four feet high, and spanned above by a single flat stone, which leads into a grotto with arched roof. The walls on the interior are draped with luxuriant fronds of spleenwort, hart’s-tongue, and a rich undercovering of liverwort. At the further end of the floor is a round granite basin, with a deeply moulded brim, and ornamented on its circumference with a series of rings, each enclosing a cross or a ball. The water weeps into it from an opening at the back, and escapes again by a hole in the bottom.
Keby’s Well: This well is almost impossible to move, and to attempt it causes miraculous death. Are the plants Corpus or Mentem vis sources?
Saint Cuthebert’s Well is obviously a vis source. It’s sometimes called Holy Well because it was discovered on All Hallows Eve. Time for some more Carew in Hunt. “The same stands in a dark cavern of the sea-cliff rocks, beneath full sea-mark on spring tides, from the top of which cavern falls down or distils continually drops of water from the white, blue, red, and green veins of those rocks. And accordingly, in the place where those drops of water fall, it swells to a lump of considerable bigness, and there petrifies to the hardness of ice, glass, or freestone, of the several colours aforesaid, according to the nature of those veins in the rock from whence it proceeds, and is of a hard, brittle nature, apt to break like glass. ” The virtues of this water are very great. It is incredible what numbers in summer season frequent this place and waters from counties far distant.”
Cuthbert’s Well is also used to dip children with rickets on the first three Wednesdays in May, so that may point to a better harvesting time. The crowd is sometimes so large that there’s an impromptu fair.
The Well at Chapel Uny is similar, but for mesenteric diseases, remembering that Hunt claims changelings were really children with intestinal diseases.
Penan’s Well has similar healing properties.
On Palm Sunday the Holy Well at Little Conan tells the future. People pay the priest, and throw a cross in, and if it floats they will live until next year.
Time to finish with a bit more Hunt:
“It is a very common notion amongst the peasantry, that a just retribution overtakes those who wilfully destroy monuments, such as stone circles, crosses, wells, and the like. Mr Blight writes me ” Whilst at Boscaswell, in St Just, a few weeks since, an old man told me that a person who altered an old Holy Well there, was drowned the next day in sight of his home, and that a person who carried away the stones of an ancient chapel, had his house burned down that very night.” If I were a magus, I’d let slip a rumour to my enemies that a weakness of mine was concealed beneath one of these wells, so they are killed when they look for it. There must be more examples, like building a stone into a wall, without moving it, so that if people lay siege to your castle the curse strikes them down.
Cornwall: customs of ancient days 3 – mob sports
Today we cover two of the traditional sports of Cornwall. We know the faeries play at least one of them, for they use monolithic stones as their goalposts for hurling. Again, this episode is wall to wall quotations
Hurling
THE game of ” Hurling” was, until a recent period, played in the parishes to the west of Penzance on the Sunday after- noon. The game was usually between two parishes, sometimes between Burian and Sancreed, or against St Leven and Sennen, or the higher side of the parish played against the lower side. The run was from Burian Cross in the Church-town, to the Pipers in Boloeit. All the gentry from the surrounding parishes
would meet at Boloeit to see the ball brought in. ” Hurling matches are peculiar to Cornwall. They are trials of skill between two parties, consisting of a considerable number of men, forty to sixty a side, and often between two parishes. These exercises have their name from “hurling” a wooden ball, about three inches in diameter, covered with a plate of silver, which is sometimes gilt, and has commonly a motto,”Gware wheag yeo gware teag,” ” Fair play is good play.” The success depends on catching the ball dexterously when thrown up, or dealt, and carrying it off expeditiously, in spite of all opposition from the adverse party ; or, if that be impossible, throwing ‘it into the hands of a partner, who in his turn, exerts his efforts to convey it to his own goal, which is often three or four miles’ distance. This sport, therefore, requires a nimble hand, a quick eye, a swift foot, and skill in wrestling ; as well as strength, good wind, and lungs.
Formerly it was practised annually by those who attended corporate bodies in surveying the bounds of parishes ; but from the many accidents that usually attended that game, it is now scarcely ever practised. Silver prizes used to be awarded to the victor in the games. A correspondent at St Ives writes : HURLING THE SILVER BALL, This old custom is still observed at St Ives. The custom is also kept up at St Columb and St Blazey, on the anniversary of the dedication of the church. St Ives Feast is governed by the Candlemas-day, it being the nearest Sunday next before that day. On the Monday after, the inhabitants assemble on the beach, when the ball, which is left in the custody of the mayor for the time being, is thrown from the churchyard to the crowd. The sides are formed in this way, “Toms, Wills, and Jans, Take off all’s on the san’s” that is, all those of the name of Thomas, John, or William are ranged on one side, those of any other Christian name on the other ; of late years the odd names outnumbered the Toms, Wills, and Jans. There is a pole erected on the beach, and each side strives to get the oftenest at the “goold,” i.e., the pole ; the other side as manfully striving to keep them out, and to send their opponents as great a distance from the pole as possible. The tradition is, that the contest used to be between the parishes of Ludgvan, Lelant, and St Ives, St Ives then being part of the living of Ludgvan, and that they used to have a friendly hurling at Ludgvan, and that afterwards the contest was between Lelant and St Ives. A stone near to Captain Perry’s house is shown, where the two parishes used to meet at the feast, and the struggle was to throw the ball into the parish church, the successful party keeping
the ball, the unsuccessful buying a new one. St Ives is said to have out- numbered the Lelant folks, so that they gave up the contest, and the ball was left with St Ives. Thus much is certain that the feasts of St Ives, Lelant, and Ludgvan fall properly on one Sunday, though a misunderstanding has arisen, Lelant claiming to be governed by the day before Candlemas-day, which will alter the three every seven years. The game of hurling is now but rarely played, and the Sabbath is never broken by that or by any other game.
The faction fight at the Cury Great Tree
ON a green knoll in the centre of the intersection of the roads from Helston to the Lizard, and Mawgan to Cury, flourished an ash-tree of magnificent dimensions. The peculiarity of its position, together with its unusual size, in the midst of a district singularly destitute of trees, rendered it famous throughout the surrounding neighbourhood ; and in designating a special locality, reference was, and still continues to be, made to “Cury Great Tree,” as a position generally known. During the last fifty years the tree has been gradually decaying, and at present only a portion of the hollow trunk remains, which is rapidly disappearing. It stands about half way up a gentle rise facing the north ; and in passing over the road, the country people speak of a dim tradition of a time when the ” road ran with blood.” The occasion of this, which is almost forgotten, was a faction fight, on a large scale, between the men of the parishes of Wendron and Breage, happening
about a hundred years since. A wreck took place near the Lizard, and the Wendron-men being nearest, were soon upon the spot to appropriate whatever flotsam and jetsam might come in their way. Returning laden with their spoils, they were encountered at the Great Tree by the Wendron-men bound on a similar errand, and a fight, as a matter of course, ensued, which was prolonged till the following day. The contest is said to have been a most terrible one, each party being armed with staves. The savage nature of the fight may be inferred from the following fact : A Wendron-man named Gluyas, having been disabled, was put upon the top of the roadside hedge, out of the melde, when
he was seen by a Breage termagant known as ” Prudy the Wicked,” and by her quickly dragged into the road, ” Prudy ” exclaiming- “Ef thee artn’t ded, I make thee,” suiting the action to the word by striking Gluyas with her patten iron until he was dead. There is some account of Prudy’s having been taken before the “Justice,” but she does not appear to have been punished. These fights between parishes were so common in those days that any death occurring in the fray was quietly passed over as a thing of course, and soon forgotten. ” So late as thirty years since it was unsafe to venture alone through the streets of the lower part of this town (Helston) after nightfall on a market-day owing to the frays of the Breage, Wendron, and Sithney men.” So writes a friend residing
in Helston.
Cornwall: Tales of Arthur
Hunt, whose work we are following in this series of episodes, gathered his folklore in in the 19th Century. At this point, Cornish memories of Arthur were at low ebb. He found a few, which I’ll pass on in this post, but for stories set in 1220, a lot of supplementary material will need to be found elsewhere.
My second ever Ars Magica campaign was set at Tintagel in Cornwall, and it’s the place I’ve reused the most. Arthur was born there, according to many versions of the story. During the game period, Arthurian stories are in high fervor. The grave of Arthur and Gwenivere was miraculously discovered at Glastonbury in 1191, making that site popular for pilgrimage (which is what rich people did instead of tourism). The stories about Arthur are popular: Chretien de Troyes’s works were finished in about 1190 and a slew of imitators and retellers are constructing the Matter of Britain as the game period arrives.
In 1220 King Henry III has a brother called Richard who is eleven. If game history matches real history, he becomes Earl of Cornwall in 1225, and on his way to becoming the richest man in Europe and Holy Roman Emperor, he buys Tintagel from the knight who owns it and builds a castle there, to cement his family’s links to Arthur. This must absolutely destroy the lives of magi pulling the “tame noble family” charade so popular in English covenants. When Richard becomes the wealthiest guy in Europe, something he did in real life via land, banking and owning the exclusive right to tax England’s Jews. The Quaesitores must come down hard on magi who have reached an accommodation with Richard. No-one gets a personal emperor, even if the title is basically honorary.
These thoughts aside, let’s pick apart what Hunt managed to find, in the nadir of Cornish Arthuriana. There are some odd little plot hooks here which aren’t seen in the more popular stories, and a saga seed I really like the sound of.
In the east of Cornwall the vast rocks which, in the west, are attributed to giants are instead attributed to Arthur. He is recorded as a giant killer: in some version he is the reason they are now extinct in Cornwall. Jack the Giant Killer was the tutor to Arthur’s son and Tom Thumb was his favourite dwarf. He had various odd relatives this early in the story, including a maternal half-brother called Constintinus who was a tyrant and Duke of Cornwall. Hunt suggests the parish of Constantine (pronounced Cust-ten-ton) may be named after him. Oddly, and Hunt doesn’t note this, Geoffery of Monmouth gives Arthur’s heir as a blood relative (of unspecified type) called Constantine. Later writers often call him “Constantine son of Cador” and suggest he’s Arthur’s nephew, which requires Cador to be his half-brother.
Hunt notes there’s a family in Cornwall called Cossentine, who claim descent from the Greek emperors through an ancestor buried in Landulph Church, and suggests they may instead be descended of this home-grown name. In Ars Magica this would best be true, because the ancestor, Theodoro Palæologus died in 1637. This may give some sort of heroic blood virtue, as might descent from the forementioned son, or any of Arthur’s many bastards. The McDermotts of Ireland are said to all be his descendants, for example.
Danish landing and banner fires
Hunt recounts a story where the Danes land in Genvor Cove to pillage the hamlet of Escols. How this is possible if the missing land we discussed a few months ago is in place is not clear. They light a becon-fire, and the beacons burn along a route to Tintagel, to tell Arthur of the threat.
Time to quote a block of Hunt ” That night the beacon-fire was lit on the chapel hill, another was soon blazing on Castle-an-Dinas, and on Trecrobben. Carn Brea promptly replied, and continued the signal-light, which also blazed lustrously that night on St Agnes Beacon. Presently the fires were seen on Belovely Beacon, and rapidly they appeared on the Great Stone, on St Bellarmine’s Tor, and Cadbarrow, and then the fires blazed out on Roughtor and Brownwilly, thus rapidly conveying the intelligence of war to Prince Arthur and his brave knights, who were happily assembled in full force at Tintagel to do honour to several native Princes who were at that time on a visit to the King of Cornwall. Arthur, and nine other kings, by forced marches, reached the neighbourhood of the Land’s-End at the end of two days. The Danes crossed the land down through the bottoms to the sea on the northern side of the promontory,
spreading destruction in their paths. Arthur met them on their return, and gave them battle near Vellan-Druchar. So terrible was the slaughter, that the mill was worked with blood that day.”
A holy woman also uses a miracle to call a great storms that throws the fleeing Danish ships high up the rocky beaches, where Arthur and his companions massacre the Danes. Arthur and the Kings then make some binding oaths with the waters of St Sennen’s well and feat at Table-Men. Merlin makes a prophecy about how the return of the Danes will signal the day of doom. Like many of Merlin’s Cornish prophecies, nothing much seems to come of it, because of course they do come back eventually.
Not all of the Danish arrivals were exterminated by Arthur. In Saint Sennen there’s a community of red-headed people who do not speak the local language or interbreed with the Cornish. Hunt says they might be descended of the Danes, but to me that sounds like a covenant.
Story hooks for this section
- Anywhere there’s been tremendous pagan bloodshed is filled with useful material for necromancers.
- The Danes presumably owned Caer Dinas (literally “Castle of the Danes”) so it’s likely also filled with Danish spirits.
- The mill being run with a stream of blood must somehow create an infernal aura, or attract faeries for the odd bread it makes.
- Can you relight the beacons to call forth the ghosts of Arthur’s horde, or faeries pretending to be them? It seems easy to do via magic, but does the presence in the line of St Agnes Beacon, which has a Divine aura as an act of perpetual charity by a saint, make this more difficult?
- Who has the covenant of redheads?
Land’s End
In Cornish, the promintory is called “The End of the Land”, but in Saxon it was called Penrlien-gard, which means “headland of blood”. It lies near Bolliant, the “Field of Slaughter” where the Cornish, and their Danish allies, had their last stand against the Saxons. Arrowheads turn up in strange profusion, which may be a vis source. Again, necromancers love pagan battlefields.
Arthur as a chough
Hunt tries to find traces of the Welsh belief that it is bad luck to kill ravens because Arthur’s soul has taken that form, and still dwells in the world. He does not find it, but finds instead a parallel tradition that Arthur has the form of Cornwall’s national bird, the chough.
Ravens’ crows, and choughs all get tangled together a bit in heraldry. Imagine a crow with red beak and feet, then mix in some the folklore that indicates this colour is due to the violent death of Arthur. I absolutely love the idea that Arthur is now like one of those Bjornaer magi who become a terrible, titanic version of their heartbeast, and that he leads a circle of knights that take the form of ravens or choughs or crows. Are these part of House Bjornaer, or a little fragment tradition in Ex Miscellanea? Are they omen-bearing Merinitas or courtly Jerbiton magi? Can they keep their kit when they change shape, like some faeries? What does this strike force want? Are they guided by the prophecies of Merlin to prevent some great calamity which would force Arthur to return?
Arthur’s death and grave sites
Hunt mentions an inscribed rock marking Arthur’s death site at Slaughterbridge. He also mentions Arthur dying at Camelford, then being buried at Glastonbury. He then quotes Bale’s Acts of the English Votaries
“In Avallon, anno 1191, there found they the flesh bothe of Arthur and of hys wyfe Guenever turned all into duste, wythin theyr comnes of strong oke, the bones only remaynynge. A monke of the same abbeye, standyng and behouldyng the fine broydinges of the wommanis heare as yellow as golde there still to remayne. As a man ravyshed, or more than halfe from his wyttes, he leaped into the graffe, xv fote depe, to have caugte them sodenlye. But he fayled of his purpose. For so soon as they were touched they fell all to powder.”
Hunt also leaves two tendrils for me to pad out later. He mentions Sir Tristram, who was the prince of Lyonesse, was born at Carlian at Kea, and that Dameliock Castle was where Golothis of the Purple Spear was beseiged by Uther’s army while the High King was off creating Arthur with the help of enchantment. I’ve not heard the “purple spear” epiphet for Goloris before.
Cornwall: Romances of the Witches
Hunt notes that he has never heard a person called a “wizard”. This note seems incongruous because he uses it himself for Merlin, but what he seems to be saying is that folk witchcraft is practiced by men and women, and that there is no separate title for the male and female types. He does say there is some gender differentiation: male witches can work out how a person was cursed, or which person stole something, but they usually suggest remedies to the friends of the injured. Female witches seem to break spells and throw curses personally, rather than through intermediaries.
Cornish curses seem small by Hermetic standards. People do not believe in witches with the full panoply of Satanic powers necessarily, but they believe in ill-wishing, which is a variant of the Evil Eye virtue. For example: a fisherman’s catch is always poor when a woman wishes him luck, until he sees a male witch and “does what he tells him to”. The woman then apologises and never ill-wishes the fisherman again. One woman ill-wishes another’s cat, and it dies.
A well-known counter-charm, and the problems it causes, are listed. If cattle in a herd keep dying due to ill-wishing,, the farmer mus collect up every drop of blood of one of the dead animals on straw, and then burn the straw. The witch, or her shadow, will be seen in the smoke. In both examples Hunt gives, a female neighbor turns up to see why there’s a bonfire raging in a field, and is badly treated by the farmer until rescued by other members of the community. Burning some of the blood of a witch seems to have protective effects as well: it’s one of the things male witches often send the friends of an ill-wished person to do.
Hunt mentions a more powerful magician, called the Peller. This is treated as a title, but he only mentions the one. He has charms which can scare off faeries and possessing demons. The demons need somewhere to go, and oddly he does not send them to the Red Sea as is so common in Cornwall, he chains them under great and distant rocks. Given that Hermetic magi tend to live secretly in wastelands, this may lead to some difficulty. Also, the Cornish tendency to mine wherever there’s a good chance of ore makes this planting of demonic landmines seem injudicious.
He also let others perform magic. As an example he tells a cursed woman to buy a bullock’s heart and pierce it with as many pins as she can. The person who placed the curse feels every pin, until the curse is lifted. That’s a little like voodoo, but note that the person doing them magic and the person doing the physical actions associated with the spell are separate.
A quote from Hunt:
“HOW TO BECOME A WITCH.
TOUCH a Logan stone nine times at midnight, and any woman will become a witch. A more certain plan is said to get on the Giant’s Rock at Zennor Church-town nine times without shaking it. Seeing that this rock was at one time a very sensitive Logan stone, the task was somewhat difficult.”
Sorcerers
Although Hunt has never heard of a man being called anything but a witch, sorcerers are a different sort of thing, apparently. The power of sorcerers tends to come from evil sources, and be passed from father to son. The most notorious family in this regard lived at Castle Pengerswick. The Lord of Pengerswick turns up in stories often enough that I’m surprised he isn’t a faerie.
When this is turned into a gazetter, he’s going to get his own section so, I’m going to take huge excerpts from Hunt here. I note in advance as plot hooks that the two witches fighting for the love of a nobleman couled be replicated in any saga.
How Lord Pengerswick Became a Sorcerer
‘The first Pengerswick, by whom the castle which still bears his name was built, was a proud man, and desired to ally himself with some of the best families of Cornwall. He wished his son to wed a lady who was very much older than himself, who is said to have been connected with the Godolphin family. This elderly maiden had a violent desire either for the young man or the castle it is not very clear which. The young Pengerswick gave her no return for the manifestations of love which she lavished upon him. Eventually, finding that all her attempts to win the young man’s love were abortive, and that all the love-potions brewed for her by the Witch of Fraddam were of no avail, she married the old lord mainly, it is said, to be revenged on the son.
The witch had a niece who, though poor, possessed considerable beauty ; she was called Bitha. This young girl was frequently employed by her aunt and the lady of Godolphin to aid them in their spells on the young Pengerswick, and, as a natural consequence, she fell desperately in love with him herself. Bitha ingratiated herself with the lady of Pengerswick, now the stepmother of the young man, and was selected as her maid. This gave her many opportunities of seeing and speaking to young Pengerswick, and her passion increased.
The old stepdame was still passionately fond of the young man, and never let a chance escape her which she thought likely to lead to the excitement of passion in his heart
towards her. In all her attempts she failed. Her love was turned to hate ; and having seen her stepson in company with Bitha, this hate was quickened by the more violent jealousy. Every means which her wicked mind could devise were employed to destroy the young man. Bitha had learned from her aunt, the Witch of Fraddam, much of her art, and she devoted herself to counteract the spells of her mistress.
The stepmother failing to accomplish her ends, resolved to ruin young Pengerswick with his father. She persuaded the old man that his son really entertained a violent passion for her, and that she was compelled to confine herself to her tower in fear. The aged woman prevailed on Lord Pengerswick to hire a gang of outlandish sailors to carry his son away and sell him for a slave, giving him to believe that she should herself in a short time present him with an heir.
The young Pengerswick escaped all their plots, and at his own good time he disappeared from the castle, and for a long period was never heard of. The mistress and maid plotted and counter-plotted to secure the old Pengerswick’s wealth ; and when he was on his death-bed, Bitha informed him of the vile practices of his wife, and consoled him with the information that he was dying from the effects of poison given him by her.
The young lord, after long years, returned from some Eastern lands with a princess for his wife, learned in all the magic sciences of those enchanted lands. He found his stepmother shut up in her chamber, with her skin covered with scales like a serpent, from the effects of the poisons which she had so often been distilling for the old lord and his son. She refused to be seen, and eventually cast herself into the sea, to the relief of all parties. Bitha fared not much better. She lived on the Downs in St Hilary ; and from the poisonous fumes she had inhaled, and from her dealings with the devil, her skin became of the colour of that of a toad.
The Lord of Pengerswick came from some Eastern clime, bringing with him a foreign lady of great beauty. She was considered by all an ” outlandish ” woman ; and by many declared to be a “Saracen.” No one, beyond the selected servants, was ever allowed within the walls of Pengerswick Castle ; and they, it was said, were bound by magic spells. No one dared tell of anything transacted within the walls ; consequently all was conjecture amongst the neighbouring peasantry, miners, and fishermen.
Certain it was, they said, that Pengerswick would shut himself up for days together in his chamber, burning strange things, which sent their strong odours, not only to every part of the castle, but for miles around the country. Often at night, and especially in stormy weather, Pengerswick was heard for hours together calling up the spirits, by reading from his books in some unknown tongue. On those occasions his voice would roll through the halls louder than the surging waves which beat against the neighbouring rocks, the spirits replying like the roar of thunder. Then would all the servants rush in fright from the building, and remain crowded together, even in the most tempestuous night, in one of the open courts.
Fearful indeed would be the strife between the man and the demons ; and it sometimes happened that the spirits were too powerful for the enchanter. He was, however, constantly and carefully watched by his wife ; and whenever the strife became too serious, her harp was heard making the softest, the sweetest music. At this the spirits fled ; and they were heard passing through the air towards the Land’s-End, moaning like the soughing of a departing storm. The lights would then be extinguished in the enchanter’s tower, and all would be peace. The servants would return to their apartments with a feeling of perfect confidence. They feared their master, but their mistress inspired them with love.
Lady Pengerswick was never seen beyond the grounds surrounding the castle. She sat all day in lonely state and pride in her tower, the lattice-window of her apartment being high on the seaward side. Her voice accompanying the music of her harp was rarely heard, but when she warbled the soft love strains of her Eastern land. Often at early dawn the very fishes of the neighbouring bay would raise their heads above the surface of the waters, enchanted by the music and the voice ; and it is said that the mermaids from the Lizard, and many of the strange spirits of the waters, would come near to Pengerswick cove, drawn by the same influence.
On moonlight nights the air has often seemed to be full of sound, and yet the lady’s voice was seldom louder than that of a warbling bird. On these occasions, men have seen thousands of spirits gliding up and down the moonbeams, and floating idly on the
silvered waves, listening to, and sometimes softly echoing, the words which Lady Pengerswick sang.
Long did this strange pair inhabit this lonely castle ; and although the Lord ot Pengerswick frequently rode abroad on a most magnificent horse which had the reputation of being of Satanic origin, it was at once so docile to its master and so wild to any other person, yet he made no acquaintance with any of the neighbouring gentry. He was feared by all, and yet they respected him for many of the good deeds performed by him. He completely enthralled the Giants of the Mount ; and before he disappeared from Cornwall, they died, owing, it was said, to grief and want of food. Where the Lord of Pengerswick came from, no one knew ; he, with his lady, with two attendants, who never spoke in any but an Eastern tongue, which was understood by none around them, made their appearance one winter’s day, mounted on beautiful horses, evidently from Arabia or some distant land.
They soon having gold in abundance got possession of a cottage ; and in a marvellously short time the castle, which yet bears his name, was rebuilt by this lord. Many affirm that the lord by the force of his enchantments, and the lady by the spell of her voice, compelled the spirits of the earth and air to work for them ; and that three nights were sufficient to rear an enormous pile, of which but one tower now remains. Their coming was sudden and mysterious ; their going was still more so.
Years had rolled on, and the people around were familiarised with those strange neighbours, from whom also they derived large profits, since they paid whatsoever price was demanded for any article which they required. One day a stranger was seen in Market-Jew, whose face was bronzed by long exposure to an Eastern sun. No one knew him ; and he eluded the anxious inquiries of the numerous gossips, who were especially anxious to learn something of this man, who, it was surmised by every one, must have some connection with Pengerswick or his lady ; yet no one could assign any reason for such a supposition. Week after week passed away, and the stranger remained in the town, giving no sign. Wonder was on every old woman’s lips, and expressed in every old man’s eyes ; but they had to wonder on. One thing, it was said, had been noticed ; and this seemed to confirm the suspicions of the people.
The stranger wandered out on dark nights spent them, it was thought on the sea-shore ; and some fishermen said they had seen him seated on the rock at the entrance of the valley of Pengerswick. It was thought that the lord kept more at home than usual, and of late no one had heard his incantation songs and sounds ; neither had they heard the harp of the lady. A very tempestuous night, singular for its gloom when even the ordinary light, which, on the darkest night, is evident to the traveller in the open country, did not exist appears to have brought things to their climax. There was a sudden alarm in Market-Jew, a red glare in the eastern sky, and presently a burst of flames above the hill, and St Michael’s Mount was illuminated in a remarkable manner. Pengerswick Castle was on fire ; the servants fled in terror ; but neither the lord nor his lady could be found. From that day to the present they were lost to all.
The interior of the castle was entirely destroyed ; not a vestige of furniture, books, or anything belonging to the ” Enchanter ” could be found. He and everything belonging to him had vanished, and, strange to tell, from that night the bronzed stranger was never again seen. The inhabitants of Market-Jew naturally crowded to the fire ; and when all was over they returned to their homes, speculating on the strange occurrences of the night. Two of the oldest people always declared that, when the flames were at the highest, they saw two men and a lady floating in the midst of the fire, and that they ascended from amidst the falling walls, passed through the air like lightning, and disappeared.
The Witch of Fraddam and the Lord of Pengerswick
Again and again had the Lord of Pengerswick reversed the spells of the Witch of Fraddam, who was reported to be the most powerful weird woman in the west country. She had been thwarted so many times by this ” white witch,” that she resolved to destroy him by some magic more potent than anything yet heard of. It is said that she betook herself to Kynance Cove, and that there she raised the devil by her incantations, and that she pledged her soul to him in return for the aid he promised.
The enchanter’s famous mare was to be seduced to drink from a tub of poisoned water placed by the road-side, the effect of which was to render her in the highest degree restive, and cause her to fling her rider. The wounded Lord of Pengerswick was, in his agony, to be drenched by the old witch, with some hell-broth, brewed in the blackest night, under the most evil aspects of the stars ; by this he would be in her power for ever, and she might
torment him as she pleased. The devil felt certain of securing the soul of the witch of Fraddam, but he was less certain of securing that of the enchanter. They say, indeed, that the sorcery which Pengerswick learned in the East was so potent, that the devil feared him. However, as the proverb is, he held with the hounds and ran with the hare.
The witch collected with the utmost care all the deadly things she could obtain, with which to brew her famous drink. In the darkest night, in the midst of the wildest storms, amidst the flashings of lightnings and the bellowings of the thunder, the witch was seen riding on her black ram out over the moors and mountains in search of her poisons. At length all was complete the horse-drink was boiled, the hellbroth was brewed.
It was in March, about the time of the equinox ; the night was dark, and the King of Storms was abroad. The witch planted her tub of drink in a dark lane, through which she knew the Lord of Pengerswick must pass, and near to it she sat, croning over her crock of broth. The witch-woman had not long to wait ; amidst the hurrying winds was heard the heavy tramp of the enchanter’s mare, and soon she perceived the outline of man and horse defined sharply against the line of lurid light which stretched along the western horizon. On they came ; the witch was scarcely able to contain herself her joy and her fears, struggling one with the other, almost overpowered her.
On came the horse and her rider : they neared the tub of drink ; the mare snorted loudly, and her eyes flashed fire as she looked at the black tub by the road-side. Pengerswick bent him over the horse’s neck and whispered into her ear ; she turns round, and flinging out her heels, with one kick she scattered all to the wild winds. The tub flew before the blow ; it rushed against the crock, which it overturned, and striking against the legs of the old Witch of Fraddam, she fell along with the tub, which assumed the shape of a coffin.
Her terror was extreme : she who thought to have unhorsed the conjurer, found herself in a carriage for which she did not bargain. The enchanter raised his voice and gave utterance to some wild words in an unknown tongue, at which even his terrible mare trembled. A whirlwind arose, and the devil was in the midst of it. He took the coffin in which lay the terrified witch high into the air, and the crock followed them. The derisive laughter of Pengerswick, and the savage neighing of the horse, were heard above the roar of the winds. At length, with a satisfied tone, he exclaimed, ” She is settled till the day of doom,” gave the mare the spurs, and rode rapidly home.
The Witch of Fraddam still floats up and down, over the seas, around the coast, in her coffin, followed by the crock, which seems like a punt in attendance on a jolly-boat. She still works mischief, stirring up the sea with her ladle and broom till the waves swell into mountains, which heave off from their crests so much mist and foam, that these wild wanderers of the winds can scarcely be seen through the mist. Woe to the mariner who sees- the witch! The Lord of Pengerswick alone had power over her. He had
but to stand on his tower, and blow three blasts on his trumpet, to summon her to the shore, and compel her to peace.
The witches’ rock at Trewa
Anyone touching this rock nine times at midnight was insured against
bad luck.
Castle Peak
To the south of the Logan Rock (near Trereen) is a high peak of granite, towering above the other rocks ; this is known as the Castle Peak. No one can say for how long a period, but most certainly for ages, this peak has been the midnight rendezvous for witches.
Many a man, and woman too, now sleeping quietly in the churchyard of St Levan, would, had they the power, attest to have seen the witches flying into the Castle Peak on moonlight nights, mounted on the stems of the ragwort and bringing with them the things necessary to make their charms potent and strong.
This place was long noted as the gathering place of the army of witches who took their departure for Wales, where they would luxuriate at the most favoured seasons of the year upon the milk of the Welshmen’s cows. From this peak many a struggling ship has been watched by a malignant crone, while she has been brewing the tempest to destroy it ; and many a rejoicing chorus has been echoed, in horror, by the cliffs around, when the witches have been croaking their miserable delight over the perishing crews, as they have watched man, woman, and child drowning, whom they were presently to rob of the treasures they were bringing home from other lands. Upon the rocks behind the Logan Rock it would appear that every kind of mischief which can befall man or beast was once rewed by the St Levan witches.
Madgy Figgy’s Stories
Again a quote from Hunt:
All those who have visited the fine piles of rocks in the vicinity of the so-called ” St Levan,” Land’s-End, called Tol-Pedden-Penwith, and infinitely finer than anything immediately surrounding the most western promontory itself, cannot have failed to notice the arrangement of cubical masses of granite piled one upon the other, known as the Chair Ladder. This remarkable pile presents to the beat of the Atlantic waves a sheer face of cliff of very considerable height, standing up like a huge basaltic column, or a pillar built by the Titans, the horizontal joints representing so many steps in the so-called ” Ladder,”
On the top is placed a stone of somewhat remarkable shape, which is by no great effort of the imagination converted into a chair. There it was that Madgy Figgy, one of the most celebrated of the St Levan and Burian witches, was in the habit of seating herself when she desired to call up to her aid the spirits of the storm. Often has she been seen swinging herself to and fro on this dizzy height when a storm has been coming home upon the shores, and richly-laden vessels have been struggling with the winds. From this spot she poured forth her imprecations on man and beast, and none whom she had offended could escape those withering spells ; and from this “chair,” which will ever bear her name, Madgy Figgy would always take her flight.
Often, starting like some huge bird, mounted on a stem of ragwort, Figgy has headed a band of inferior witches, and gone off rejoicing in their iniquities to Wales or Spain. This old hag lived in a cottage not far from Raftra, and she and all her gang, which appears to have been a pretty numerous crew, were notorious wreckers. On one occasion, Madgy from her seat of storms lured a Portuguese Indiaman into Perloe Cove, and drowned all the passengers. As they were washed on shore, the bodies were stripped of everything valuable, and buried by Figgy and her husband in the green hollow, which may yet be seen just above Perloe Cove, marking the graves with a rough stone placed at the head of the corpse.
The spoils on this occasion must have been large, for all the women were supplied for years with rich dresses, and costly jewels were seen decking the red arms of the girls who laboured in the fields. For a long time gems and gold continued to be found on the sands. Howbeit, amongst the bodies thrown ashore was one of a lady richly dressed, with chains of gold about her and not only so, but valuable treasure was fastened around her, she evidently hoping, if saved, to secure some of her property. This body, like all the others, was stripped ; but Figgy said there was a mark on it which boded them evil, and she would not allow any of the gold or gems to be divided, as it would be sure to bring bad luck if it were separated.
A dreadful quarrel ensued, and bloodshed was threatened ; but the diabolical old Figgy was more than a match for any of the men, and the power of her impetuous will was superior to them all. Everything of value, therefore, belonging to this lady was gathered into a heap, and placed in a chest in Madgy Figgy’s hut. They buried the Portuguese lady the same evening ; and after dark a light was seen to rise from the grave, pas^ along the cliffs and seat itself in Madgy’s chair at Tol-Pedden.
Then, after some hours, it descended, passed back again, and, entering the cottage, rested upon the chest. This curious phenomenon continued for more than three months, nightly, much to the alarm of all but Figgy, who said she knew all about it, and it would be all right in time. One day a strange-looking and strangely-attired man arrived at the cottage. Figgy’s man (her husband) was at home alone. To him the stranger addressed himself by signs, he could not speak English, so he does not appear to have spoken at all, and expressed a wish to be led to the graves.
Away they went, but the foreigner did not appear to require a guide. He at once selected the. grave of the lady, and sitting down upon it, he gave vent to his pent-up sorrows. He sent Figgy’s man away, and remained there till night, when the light arose from the grave more brilliant than ever, and proceeded directly to the hut, resting as usual on the chest, which was now covered up with old sails, and all kinds of fishermen’s lumber.
The foreigner swept these things aside, and opened the chest. He selected everything belonging to the lady, refusing to take any of the other valuables. He rewarded the wreckers with costly gifts, and left them no one knowing from whence he came nor
whither he went. Madgy Figgy was now truly triumphant. “One witch knows another witch, dead or living,” she would say ; “and the African would have been the death of us if we hadn’t kept the treasure, whereas now we have good gifts, and no gainsaying
;em.” Some do say they have seen the light in Madgy Figgy’s chair since those times.
Short stories
Hunt also gives a story about the same witch who gains a pig through a curse. She offers to buy it, and when the owner will not fix a price she ill-wishes it, so that runs around crazily when on a lead, and gets thinner the more it eats. Eventually it eats the owner out of house and home, and he gives her the pig for a twopenny loaf.
He then gives a very similar story, about a witch and some chickens. Madam Noy, the owner of the chickens refuses to sell the witch some eggs, and the witch refuses to leave. Noy throws a stone at the witch and hits her in the face, making her jaws rattle.
She responds with a curse in ryhme, which was sung by the person telling the story. A “coppie” is apparently a chicken with a certain type of comb.
” Madam Noy, you ugly old bitch,
You shall have the gout, the palsy, and itch ;
All the eggs your hens lay henceforth shall be addle ;
All your hens have the pip, and die with the straddle;
And ere I with the mighty fine madam have done,
Of her favourite ‘coppies’ she shan’t possess one.”
The pip, here, is a respiratory disease which leaves white scales on the tongue. It’s the origin of the English phrase “having the pip”. Pip begins in English meaning annoyance, but eventually changes to mean unique, individual and valued. The straddle is what we’d now call splayed legs. Addled means “rotten” in this case, not “mixed”.
The next Cornish witch takes the form of a hare to travel swiftly, and s4eems to be able to carry burdens in that form. She has a familiar with can take the forms of a hare, cat and black, demonic shape. These forms can issue a blood curdling howl.
Hunt then tells two stories of witches who send a toad familiar to curse enemies. While it is present the people sicken, but when the toad is thrown in the fire, its owner is burned according to its wounds. Arguably this isn’t a familair at all: it might be a nightwalker’s phantasticum.
Cornwall: Miscellaneous stories
Hunt just gives up and pours it all into a miscellaneous chapter here at the end. Let’s fossick for plot hooks:
The Bells of Forraburry Church
There are no bells at Forrburry Church. They were made to rival the local church at Tintagel, and had a speedy voyage to Cornwall. The pilot gave thanks to God, but the wicked captain said the rapid passage was due to his skill. God smited the boat with a great wave, and the bells chimed as it sank. Now, theb ells are heard , from the depth, before storms.
Hooks
- Can you recover the bells for the church? As they are blessed, it’s difficult to touch them directly with magic.
Bocastle: the tower is missing from the Minster Church
A quote from Hunt: “The tower of the church of the ancient abbey was seen through
the gorge which now forms the harbour of Boscastle, far out at sea. The monks were in the habit of placing a light in one of the windows of the tower to guide the worshippers at night to the minster. Frequently sailors mistook this, by day for some land-mark,
and at night for a beacon, and were thus led into a trap from which they could not easily extricate themselves, and within which they often perished.
This accident occurred so frequently that the sailors began at last to declare their belief that the monks pur posely beguiled them to their fate, hinting, indeed, that plunder was their object. Eventually, a band of daring men, who had been thus lured into Boscastle, went to the abbey, and, in spite of the exertions nrade by the monks, they pulled down the tower, since which time it has never been rebuilt.”
Hooks
- Did your grogs do this? How do you spread the story about the sailors?
- Is the charge that the monks are wreckers true?
Temple Moors
There’s a place the Knights Templar have on the moors, and women who are shunned from society are welcome there. What happens to these women is not clear. Good and evil rumours haunt the place.
Hooks
- It might be a relocation scheme, much like the ladies mentioned in the Grogs chapter on ex-prostitutes.
- They might instead be sacrifices.
The Legend of Tamara
The nymph Tamara was born in a cave, the daughter of two potent earth spirits. She loved the sunlight, so she could not stay hidden, and was beautiful, so she attracted suitors.
Two sons of Dartmoor giants, named Tavy and Tewrage, both desired Tamara, and she led both on. Eventually they tried to force her to choose between them. Tamara’s father, who hated giants, demanded she return home. When she refused, he turned her into the river Tamar.
The two giants awoke, and each was broken-hearted. Tavy’s father knew magic, and turned him into a river that eventually mingles wit the Tamara, called the Tay. Tewrage found an enchanter who made him into a river, but he mistook the path the Tamar takes, and so, to his sorrow, he pours away from her forever, as the Taw.
Hooks
- In the final work, I’ll need to stat these characters. What happens if some fool turns them back into human form?
The Church and the Barn
The Daunays were a family beset with pride. The priests of St Germans convinced the lord to build a church on his lands in Sheviock. After he agreed, he decided to spend less on the church than he had originally agreed.
His wife was enraged by this, and so she decided to build a barn finer than his church. Wit the visible aid of the devil, her barn, which is attached to the church, was finished first. A careful weighing of accounts indicates that the barn cost one and a half pence more than the church.
Hooks
- Is this an Infernally-tainted church, or a standard church with an infernal site glued to the side? Are there Bonisagus magi wanting to check how all this works? How can you ensure they have access to the site without hindering worship, since that might weaken the Dominion?
The Glove and the Fair
“On the 5th of August, St James’s day (old style), a fair is held here, which was originally held in the Church- town of Sithney near Helston. In olden time, the good St Perran the Little gave to the wrestlers in his parish a glove as the prize, and the winner of the glove was permitted to collect the market toll on the day of the feast, and to appropriate the money to his own use. The winner of the glove lived in the Church-town of Sithney, and
for long long years the right of holding the fair remained undisputed.
At length the miners of Goldsithney resolved to contest the prize, and they won it, since which time the fair has been held in that village, they paying to the poor of the parish of Sithney one shilling as compensation.
Gilbert remarks ” The displaying of a glove at fairs is an ancient and widely-extended custom. Mr Lysons says it is continued at Chester. The editor has seen a large ornamented glove over the guildhall at Exeter during the fairs.”‘
Hooks
- If this is stolen, can the magi help find it? As a relic, it’s hard to target with magic.
- Posession of the glove, legitimately, is lucrative for a covenant. How can you prepare a team to take the glove, again, without active magic?
Harlyn Pie
“ADJOINING the Church of Constantine in the parish of ** St Merryn, was a cottage which a family of the name of Edwards held for generations, under the proprietors of Harlyn, by the annual render of a pie, made of limpets, raisins, and various herbs, on the eve of the festival in honour of the saint to whom the church was dedicated.
The pie, as I have heard from my family, and from more ancient members of the family, and from old servants, was excellent.”
Hooks
- It’s pie, guys. You are lucky it’s not getting its own episode. Actually…that’s a great idea..
Bridge of Wadebridge
Lovebone was the vicar of Wadebridge, and there was a ferry across the river. It was a frequent custom for the farmers to ride their horses and to drive their cattle across when
the tide was low, and frequently men and beasts were lost in the quicksands formed on the rising of the tide. A sad accident of this kind happened, and Lovebone resolved on building a bridge…
Great was the labour, and frequent the disappointment. Pier after pier were built, and then they were lost in the sands. A “fair structure” was visible at night, in the morning there was no trace of the work of the masons. Lovebone almost despaired of success, indeed he was about to abandon the work, when he dreamed that an angel came with a flock of sheep, that he sheared them, let the wool fall into the water, and speedily built the bridge upon the wool.
Lovebone awoke with a new idea. He gathered from the farmers around, all the wool they would give him, he put it loosely into into packs, placed these thickly upon the sand, and built his piers. The work remains to this day in proof of the engineering skill of the suggesting angel.”
Hooks
- There’s a myth that says London Bridge was similarly built on wool sacks.
- In Transforming Mythic Europe I made a deliberate omission, and no-one has picked me up on it, so time to come clean: the great rings which surround the magical islands? The height measurements assume a subsidence of zero. That never happens, unless you are putting the building onto rock (which is assumed in this case) or, like modern bridge-builders, you drive steel piles into the mud on the bottom of the water you are trying to cross. If wool can replace that, then it fixes the subsidence problem without the assumption of a stone ocean floor.
The Lizard People
“There is a tradition that the Lizard people were formerly a very inferior race. In fact it is said that they went on all fours, till the crew of a foreign vessel, wrecked on the coast, settled among them, and improved the race so much that they became as remarkable for their stature and physical development as they had been before for the reverse. At this time, as a whole, the Lizard folks certainly have among them a very large population of tall people, many of the men and women being over six feet in height.”
Hooks
- Deep Ones, obviously.
- Who interbreeds with them to make the locals tall? s it a covenant’s turb? Covenfolk tend to be well fed and protected from disease spirits by the covenant’;s magical defences.
The Teeth of Teeny-Tiny
“An old lady had been to the church in the sands of Perranzabulce. She found, amidst the numerous remains of mortality, some very good teeth. She pocketed these, and at night placed them on her dressing-table before getting into bed. She slept, but was at length disturbed by some one calling out, ” Give me my teeth give me my teeth.” At first, the lady took no notice of this, but the cry, ” Give me my teeth,” was so constantly repeated, that she, at last, in terror, jumped out of bed, took the teeth from the dressing table,
and, opening the window, flung them out, exclaiming, ” Drat the teeth, take ’em.” They no sooner fell into the darkness on the road than hasty retreating footsteps were heard, and there were no more demands for the teeth.”
- I don’t know what I want to do with this, but I want to keep it. I sense it might be useful.
A Buried Boat of Gold
Hunt apologies that this story arrived too late for him to add to the stories of the saints:
“”A tradition has been preserved in the neighbourhood, that Gerennius, an old Cornish saint and king, whose palace stood on the other side of Gerrans Bay, between Trewithian and the sea, was buried in this mound [at Roseland] many centuries ago, and that a golden boat with silver oars were used in conveying his corpse across the bay, and were interred with him…
‘Probably,’ says Whitaker, in his remarks on this quotation, ‘the royal remains were brought in great pomp by water from Din-Gerein, on the western shore of the port, to Carne, about two miles off on the northern ; the barge with the royal body was plated, perhaps, with gold in places ; perhaps, too, rowed with oars having equally plates of silver upon them ; and the pomp of the procession has mixed confusedly with the interment of the body in the memory of tradition.”
Hooks
- It’s buried treasure, someone is going to dig it up eventually. That leads to an angry saint cursing the countryside, and magi needing to fix things, despite not being able to directly target relics.
- A demon keeps getting people to dig the relics up, because he thinks having saints smite people is tremendously amusing. Can you stop him in a permanent way?
Cornwall: Romances of the Miners
This is a short chapter, but it contains something terribly valuable to me as a writer: it explains what’s going on with the Jews. This matters a more deeply than may be superficially apparent. When we were writing Ars Magica, we kept looking for places where we could squeeze in black people, gay people, woman and other minorities. History is whitewashed, to quote the Doctor, and we tried to give new options without resorting too strongly to fantasy. Ans so: it’s great to get some Jews.
I knew the knockers, the faeries of the mines, were said to be the ghosts of Jews. That was a little. I knew that the town we now call Marazion was called “Market-Jew” historically, and its modern name refers to the suffering of Zion. I knew that Richard of Cornwall was the Jew-farmer of England, a few decades after the game period begins. Jews, and Saracens, were said to have come to Cornwall to ship the tin to distant lands. The Cornish, to protect the secret of where they found their tin from the “Fincians”, as they called all these foreigners, set up trading ports on little islands, which might yet be covenant sites. Hunt suggests Looe Island, St Nicholas’s Island, St Ives, Chapel Rock and many other places.
In 1220 Jews are kept from many professions. They are allow to work as merchants and bankers, and Hunt records traditions that they rented the lands that were mined from the Crown, and in turn leased them to miners. He gives the tradition that the churches of Dartmoor were all raised by Jews as a tax for the tin stream licenses.
He goes further though. Mining is a terrible job, uncomfortable, dangerous and giving wages only at random. Jews were not, in some recorded folklore, forbidden from engaging in this profession. The ghosts in the mines are Jews because the people in the mines were Jews: Jews that allow you to have player characters who are not Shakespearean bankers and merchants.
A related idea, mentioned in Hunt, is that the knockers are the ghosts are Jews, but that they were the slaves of Romans, forced into the mines during the Empire. The knockers are also called buccas. Knockers only work productive lodes, so their presence is liked by the miners.
Ghosts
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.
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 perhaops 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.
Demons
There is another 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.
Faeries
The spriggans meet in the depths of the deepest mines on Christmas Eve and have a Mass. During which they sing a carol that Hunt calls “Now Well!” In a footnote, he amuses by giving the lyrics as “Now Well! Now well! the angel did say / to certain poor shepherds in fields who lay / lay in the night, folding their sheep / a winter’s night, both cold and deep. Now well! now well! now well! Born is the King of Israel!” They have a temple for this purpose, that they built themselves, and it is magnificent.
Sometimes people see a blue flame underground which makes full mine carts move by themselves, as if pushed by a strong, skilled man. This is Bluecap, and his wages need to be paid promptly and correctly, by leaving them in a disused corner of the mine.
Hunt mentions Jack the Tinker here, tying him to Wayland Smith. This has been dealth with at some length in the Giants episode.
The Story of the Jew and the Miners
Hunt gives the story of a group of miners who found their streams had given out, and so travel to take service with a Jew in a distant place. They work in his mine for three years, and every year when they sought their share of the profits he put them off, and tells them never to leave an old road for a new one. When they are sick of this behaviour, they head home. The Jew’s wife gives the oldest miner a cake.
As they travel they discover a new highway has been built, so they have a shortcut home. The younger men take this road, while the oldest one keeps to the path he knows. The youngest ones are best by bandits, and loose what little they have. The older man makes it home unhurt. His wife, who has been waiting patiently for him for three years, is not pleased when he shows that his entire wage for three years work is a single cake.
When the wife argues with her husband, she becomes enraged. She flings the cake against the wall, and it breaks apart. Within are golden coins, and a letter, carefully tallying the shares of the three miners. Happiness is restored, and the miners live happily ever after.
To me, this Jew seems rather like a faerie. There’s the pattern of three miners and three years, for example.
Saints
The Cornish are sure famous people came to visit them. Jesus himself was broght in his boyhood to the Lizard by his uncle, Joseph of Armithea. The uncle returned later, with the Holy Grail, a thorn from the crown, and bottles of the blood of Jesus, which he took to Glastonbury. The miners of Gwenapp believe that St Paul came to sermonise them in his lifetime. (He preached somewhere along the road from Princes-town to Plympton and it is celebrated on Whitmonday).
“Tokens”
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.
Cornwall: Defining the boundaries of the project
In the earlier Cornwall posts, I’ve been looking at folklore, but to make a gazetteer I need to grapple with mundane matters like geography, politics and commerce. For this I’m using the History of Cornwall by Polwhele which is ancient, but it’ll do while I’m waiting for something more modern to be delivered.
Geographical extent
Hunt really doesn’t accept that Devon and Cornwall are divided in a useful sense. He sees both of them as descentant states of Dumnovia, which he sees as heading out to Exeter. There’s always a temptation to stretch a project out: to claim more land, because by doing so you claim more folklore, which makes the digging easier. At the same time, that’s a flaw. If the Cornish supplement is terribly popular, then some fan may want to do something with Devon beyond such minor incursions as I’m required to make. In addition, there’s a little material in Heirs to Merlin, so I’m not leaving readers beret if I make the Tamar as the border of my interest.
In choosing the Tamar, I’m using a modern border: Cornwall at various times has spread out to the east of the river, and in 1220 parts of the shire do extend over the boundary. They’ll be included if it serves a useful purpose for game design. Historically this border is a linguistic one: although Hunt may be right to say you have Dumnovii living in both areas, the Kings of Wessex, who were Saxons, had their capital in Exeter. Polwhele places the loss of Exeter, and the lands between the Exe and the Tamar, in 937.
The Cornish tended to ally with the Danes to fight, or rebel against, the kings of Wessex. There are records of this happening over and over. In 1000, for example, Hugh of Cornwall (who has an odd name because he was a Norman) allied with the King of the Danes, guaranteeing him ports, supplies and soldiers. The Danes took Exeter, and held territory for two years, until the local women killed all of the Danes in a single night. Exeter, apparently with Cornish support, stood against William the Conquerer, and was besieged for a while before suing for peace under favourable terms. Cornwall was given to Robert, Earl of Moreton, William’s half-brother, as so much else of the country. Thew arms of the previous Earl, according to Polwhele, were eventually taken up by Richard of Cornwall, and are the modern arms, although this seems untrue.
Cornwall was heavily involved in the wars of Matilda and Stephen, during the 11th Century, when some of the older Hermetic covenants formed. The Earl of Cornwall was Matilda’s brother, and because he had the sort of “corner of the board” advantage you see in some computer games, he could afford to push forces out into England, without leaving a lot of garrison behind him. Cornwall didn’t do the sort of hedging popular in the rest of the country: it fully fell in on the side of the Empress and decided to fight the English, so the place didn’t get raided and wrecked like the midlands. Polwhele mentions that Matilda’s chamberlain has a name strangely similar to his own.
When Henry III and Richard I head off to do horrible things to the Muslims, the Cornish basically ignored the whole thing. There are a couple of Cornish crusaders. Polwele says that in 1191 Richard I gave Arthur’s sword Caliburn to Tancred I of Sicily., which is interesting if unlikely. He notes the rebellion of Herny of Pomeri, which sounds like the sort of thing players might want to replay if their character are part of an earlier generation of magi.
Henry de la Pomeroy
When Richard I was off crusading, he left Bishop Longchamp of Ely as his chancellor (the office of regent hasn’t been invented at this stage). Henry of Pomery flees the failing Norman possessions in what’s now France, and in service of John of Cornwall, personally murders Richard’s son. He then flees to Cornwall, to raise it in rebellion against Richard (or Longchamp, which is much the same thing legally). He doesn’t do much here, but manages to take Mount Saint Michael, which he fortifies and holds against Richard’s forces until 1196. (There is an alternative history in which he commits suicide when Richard is first ransomed).
Charters and documents
Polwhele here goes into the Domesday book and royal charters to a terrifying depth, down to the fees paid of manors and the sources of names. I’m skipping all of this, but flagging it in case I ever need it. It’s about Vol 2 p.50.
Polwhele marks the following as the main places of the earls and dukes of Cornwall: Tremarton, Lanceston, Leskerd and Restamorel, which was the castle of Richard King of the Romans.
A Word on Richard
Henry III has a younger brother, Richard, who he gives the Earldom of Cornwall slightly after the game period He also gave him Exeter in 1227. This makes the hard boundary on the Tamar tough to enforce. I am tending to call him “Richard, King of the Romans” because he eventually basically buys the job of Holy Roman Emperor. He’s one of the richest men in Europe. The problem is there are too many Richards about. There is the Lionheart, in the previous generation, and Richard of Cornwall, who is this Richard’s child by a mistress. I could call him “Richard, First Earl of Cornwall” but that seems to heavy-handed. I’m hoping there’s a better term later in the research.
In the time of King John, the farming of Cornish tin was 100 marks a year (66 pounds). Devon tin was mined for 100 pounds a year. Later Richard was said he able to “spend 100 marks a day for ten years”. Richard is one of the few nobles in period who seem to have really understood how to make money, and encourage others to make money while taking a slice.
Continued Notes on Geography
The Cornish and Devon stanneries (local parliaments) meet at Henston-hill, and the prion of the stanneries is at Lidford.
The king appoints the sherrif, a role which is very rapidly turned over. There’s a list in Polwhele on II p. 86 (p. 345 of the pdf) but this may not be relevant. Richard, king of the Romans, is given the job of “high sheriff” when he comes of age, but the table keeps going, so it might be a list of the men actually doing the job. Richard makes a lot of places free boroughs, lets them set up gildhalls, and permits markets and fairs, in exchange for an annual payment. Being a borough means you get to send a representative to the kingdom’s Parliament, so the Cornish suddenly have a little regional faction.
Church lands
Before the Norman invasion, there were seven bishops in Cornwall, and they had the right of both secular and sacred justice. When the Normans take over they can’t be having with these pocket bishoprics, and place all of Cornwall into a single archdeaconery within the Bishopric of Exeter. The older bishoprics become deconries or deaneries in the new structure.
The Normans rework the hundreds of Cornwall, and they restructure the church lands to be coterminal. Polwhele discusses these, and their contents, at many pages of length, even to the point of saying why different manors are named. As an example, the deaneries are East, West, Trigge Major, Trigge Minor, Pider, Powder, Kerrier, and Penwith. I’m going to flag this in case I need it, but…there’s more depth here than we need. That’s odd for an Ars supplement. There’s more here about the swannery under a house in a sliver of Cornwall than about some of the royal castles of Hungary.
Richard King of the Germans founds a heap of churches and monasteries during the game period.
Sigh…I’ve double checked and I do need some of this, at the level of keeping notes in case they are important later, at least from a church perspective. Here we go. These notes won’t make it to the podcast.
East: Centred on St Germans, which has a collegiate church. In East-Anthony there was a cell of the Black Monks of Angiers. A Trebeigh there is (since 1150) a preceptory of the Knights of Saint John of Jerusalem: Henry de Pomeroy was a major benefactor of theirs. They have all kinds of odd privileges, freeing them from all law but their own, saving only “life and limb”.
West: May be about St Neot, which is named for the brother of Alfred the Great. There’s a collegiate church here.
Trigg Major: Centres perhaps on St Stephen near Launceston. In 1226 the bishop forces the secular canons there to move to a new foundation, “under the Rule of St Austin” beneath the castle. There’s probably a nunnery at Altarnun.
Trigg Minor: There’s a Benedicitine monastery here for a couple of centuries, but the “black canons” took it over in 1110-1120. 60 years later, one of the monks steals the body of the Founder, Saint Petroc, and sails to Brittany. Henry II forces them to give it back.
In the east of Bodmin there is a place called “St Lawrence” which is a leprosarium, “well-endowed for 19 lepers”. Polwhele says leprosy spreads to England in about 1100. He describes it as a white eczema over all the body, and says all such shelters are legally under the supervision of the first house of this type, at Burton in Leicstershire. There seems to be a 5 pound fee to join the leprosarium, so it may be for the sxcions of noble families.
At Temple there was a small cell or temple of Templars.
Pider: St Crantoc is the premier house, and possibly collegiate, but St Colum may also have been significant. St Bennet in Lavinet was a nunnery.
Powder: St Probus is the collegiate church. Tywardeeth was a priory of Augustians. Toward the end of Henry III’s reign a convent of Augustinians settles in Truro. St Michael Penkiwell is an ancient endowed house with a chantry. Polwhele then goes through this area parish by parish, which is terrifyingly precise.
Kerrier: There’s a collegiate church called Glaseney in the parish of Gluvias. St Keverne has a sanctuary. St Martin had a nunnery. St Michael’s Mont and the Scilly Isles are in this deanery. Constantine also has a pre-Norman church of some note.
Cornwall: Richard of the Romans – early life
I’ve boiled down enough of the legends from Cornwall to move forward, but need to add in the mundane politics. This brings into focus Richard, the younger brother of King Henry III, who was effectively the ruler of England at various times, and after making himself the richest guy in England, he literally buys the throne of Germany. His presence simplifies mundane politics immensely. For magi, living in Cornwall, he’s an obvious problem. The Guernicus are not going to look away when some random guy turns up from the edge of the Earth with more money than the Pope and makes himself Emperor.
In 1220, the standard starting time for sagas, Richard is eleven, so he grows as the player characters age and come to power. I need a timeline for him for the final product, because he’s clearly a saga arc.
Timeline
1209 (5 January) Born at Winchester and named after his long-dead uncle. He had an older, illegitimate, brother also called Richard, and their histories get mixed up which would be useful for faeries in later centuries.
1212 The family of the king is rumoured dead, but they have fled to Durham and are safe there.
1215 Is fostered to Corfe Castle under Peter de Mauley. A tutor (“master”) is appointed for him (Sir Roger d’Acastre, who stays with him until 1223). His household is his master, two trumpeters, and some washerwomen, at this point.
1220 Henry III is crowned. Richard is bought to London by his guardian. Henry is childless, so Richard is the heir to the throne. Falkes de Breauté and Hugh de Burgh are vying for power in England.
In 1220 the Cornish stanneries are farmed for 1000 marks per year. Richard gets about 2000 pounds of profit from his stanneries a year, if you include the first right to buy tin, then sell it as a profit.
1221 Richard is granted the honour of the Eye, which is a nominal sort of grant. He doesn’t live there, and it is managed by a steward appointed for him by a Council of barons who are effectively running the country. It just gives his people the money to maintain his household
1223: Richard goes on pilgrimage to Canterbury with Alexander II of Scotland..
1224 de Breaute rebels, and after some setbacks, Hubert de Burgh crushes and hangs him, taking effective power in England. During this distraction the truce with France expires and they take Poitou, without any significant resistance. The English retain Bordeaux, Gascony and Bayonne, which send for help.
1225: Richard turns 16 and is knighted by his brother. He’s also given the title of High Sheriff of Cornwall.
The barons raise a special tax, and use it to raise a relief army, which is sent to the remaining Norman territories in what is now France. Henry sends his brother Richard as nominal leader, and names him Count of Poitou, but he never used the title for anything practical. The effective leader was the William Longsword, the Earl of Salisbury, a skilled veteran and the prince’s uncle. The force is small, somewhere between 40 and 70 knights, and later, 500 Welsh footmen. 36 000 pounds was sent out to Richard or paid on his behalf. Sometimes by the king’s Great Ship, sometimes by the Templars, sometimes by merchants in the employ of the Royal Wardrobe.
The force pacifies Gascony, but can’t save Poitou. It’s being led by Hugh de la Marche, who married Richard’s mother after King John died, so that must have been awkward. Richard tries to marry the daughter of the king of Laon, but Hugh de Burgh knocks that on the head. In 1225 Salisbury dies, and there’s no veteran campaigner to take his place.
1226 King Louis VIII takes the cross, and declares war on Raymond, the Count of Toulouse, who is a heretic and an ally of Richard’s. This makes attacking Louis’s lands morally abominable (you can’t invade a crusader’s lands. God hates that). Then in November Louis VIII dies, leaving a 12-year-old boy in theoretical charge of France. . Much of Poitou switches to the English side. Toulouse openly allies with the English, and the French sign truce. Peace treaty negotiations begin, but eventually fail..
Henry III gets into arguments with many of his earls about the borders of the royal forests. I’m putting that pin down to pick it up later.
1227 Various nobles switch their allegiance back to France and Richard withdraws his forces. He returns home, and is made Earl of Cornwall.
Hubert de Burgh is basically in charge of the kingdom, and in this year he’s made Earl of Kent and marries the sister of the King of Scotland, who had been at King John’s court for many years, presumably to be married to one of the princes. de Burgh has annoyed a lot of people, by this point, creating a rival faction led by the Earl of Chester.
After Richard has had Cornwall for a few weeks, he and Henry have an argument about possession of of eight Cornish demesne manors. Richard offers to have the lawyers sort it out, and Henry’s legal adviser suggests imprisoning Richard. Richard hears there’s a plot afoot and rides off to Reading in the middle of the night,
He then goes to Marlborough to link up with his friend William Marshal. Marshal was the son of a war hero (the reason you call a guy leading an army a Marshal is because of his dad. Also, they invented the title of Regent just for him). Young William was holder of much of the Welsh marches, and he took his friend to the Earl of Chester, who held most of northern England. Five other Earls also raise their banners, and they get an army together at Stamford.
They send some demands, and Henry’s advisers buckle. Henry hands out the bribes thick and fast, and the army goes home. You remember those forest boundaries? They change back. Richard gets his mother’s dowry lands, the county of Brittany, and the lands of the Count of Boulogne. That sounds like a lot, but in effect he only got the bits which were in Britain, which means for example that the “lands of the County of Brittany” is a group of about eight manors in (the honor of St Valery.)
Richard’s income is about 1000 pounds a year after this settlement. He lives at Launceston in Cornwall most of the time, but he also now has Islesworth and Beckley, each just outside London, to live in when going to court. Berkhampstead, which is part of his mother’s dowry lands, is taken off him and given to Hugh de Burgh’s nephew, so bygones are not bygones.
1229: Richard gets Wallingford under the king’s pleasure, and probably gets back Berkhampstead. Wallingford is kind of his English HQ for a while. It’s technically his English “castle”. I suppose. Henry sends out a letter to his nobles suggesting they get ready to go with him on a campaign to an unnamed place, at an unnamed time. He tells the Cinque Ports to assemble a fleet, and eventually tells his people to assemble in Plymouth in October. When everyone arrives, Hubert de Burgh has failed to get a decent fleet together, and so it is all put off until April.
1230: Richard is given the Honor of the Eye ands a 1000 marks, to get him behind a war in Brittany. Henry and 450 knights sail to France. They achieve little of significance, and both Henry and Richard catch some sort of camp fever in September and come home.
Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, dies. His widow is William Marshal’s sister, Isabella. Three months later she marries Richard, which annoys Henry, because she’s a valuable heiress. Isabella has six children already. Eventually she and Richard have four, but only one lives to adulthood. He gets a fair swathe of Irish land, and the Broase lands, perhaps as part of the marriage deal. De Burgh then takes the Broase lands from him. and tries to take his Irish castles.
1231: Richard marries, and as a wedding gift, his lands in Cornwall, Wallingford and the Eye are changed from being held at the King;s pleasure to being held at fee. They are now his. This removes a lot of the friction from his relationship with his brother. At this point he also gets the stanneries of Cornwall. He’s given Cornwall and the stanneries for five fees, which seems mightily generous.
1233: A rebellion by the barons again.
1235: Richard asks the pope if he can divorce Isabella, and he is told that he needs to give the idea up. Then his son Henry is born (he reaches adulthood, but is murdered in 1271).
1238: Richard’s abortive rebellion, called the “demonstration”.
1239: Henry III has a son, and Richard ceases to be heir presumptive of England.
1232: Henry III takes the justiciarship from Hugh de Burgh. Peter de Riveaux becomes effective chief minister. He’s in charge of the exchequer, which means he has the realm’s money in his control. His relative, Peter de Roches, is one of his allies, and will be important later. Richard, Pembroke and a couple of other Earls defend Hugh from the worst Henry has planned.
Richard and Pembroke fight Llewelyn in Wales, and win.
1233: Henry takes a manor from one of Richard Marshall’s allies on Christmas in 1232, and this causes an argument. This swells in June 1233 when Henry and Richard Marshall fall out over the dower lands of Henry’s sister, Eleanor. She had been married to Richard Marshall’s older brother, preceding him as Earl of Pembroke. Henry wanted to look after her lands. Henry summons the barons to Oxford for a parliament, and took hostages from prominent families. This went down about as well as you’d expect, and they boycotted a few parliaments. Henry gives them huge bribes, and Richard rejoins the royal side. The Marshall doesn’t, and the king besieges him at Usk Castle, where he makes a fool of himself.
The king doesn’t bring more than a few days of food for him men, so he can’t maintain the siege. He sends some bishops to the marshal, asking him to save the king embarrassment by surrendering Usk, on the understanding the king will hand the castle back after 15 days, and make other concessions. The marshal allows this, but when Henry doesn’t give the castle back for a few months, he allies with the Welsh, and with Hugh de Burgh who has escaped a royal prison, and just wrecks the king’s forces. He then tries to raise the Marshal lands in Ireland, which leads to his death, and Richard of Cornwall picks up some of the Marshal lands.
1234: The barons force the king to dismiss the Potevins, his wife’s relatives, from his council, but Richard grabbed some of their stuff, because one of them had burned down one of his manors in a previous war. Richard, and six other earls, are told they aren’t allowed to have tourneys, because they allow men to bring their military retinues together and scheme. Richard helps arrange the marriage of his sister to Frederick II, the Holy Roman Emperor.
1235: Richard picks up more land as a birthday present from his brother, for nominal fees, presumably for sorting out that marriage thing. He’s also allowed to protect the Jews in his Honor at Berkhampstead.
1236: Richard of Cornwall takes the Cross, but the Pope orders him not to actually go on crusade until a special license is sent. He doesn’t actually leave until 1240, which gives him a lot of time to prepare. The king marries Eleanor of Provence, and her uncle becomes the centre of a faction of the queen’s family, which annoys the barons no end.
1237: Richard negotiates extensions of peace with the Welsh and Scots.
1238: Eleanor, the sister of the King, marries Simon de Monfort without the permission of the baronage. Richard kicks up a rebellion, but the King folds without a battle, and they reconcile by the time their sister Joan, then Queen of Scotland, passed away in 1239. Richard is then pretty much always on Henry’s team. Baldwin, Emperor of Constantinople, visits England this year, and Richard finds out the lay of the land in the East, for his Crusade.
1239:
The Pope gives Richard carte blanche for success of his Crusade, including the general protection given to the lands of all crusaders. Richard sends 6 000 marks to the Templars in Paris in preparation. He and the other barons going on Crusade meet at Northampton and swear they will not go to Italy or Greece, which is perhaps because the Pope strongly suggested they go to Constantinople.
1240: Isabella dies, but Richard will not allow her to be buried by her first husband.
The crusade sets out from Dover. The source document gives then names of the major crusaders on page 41, so that’s where it is if I need it. They go via Paris, renewing the truce, through the Rhone. At Vienne the locals offer to buy his boats, and when Richard refuses, they steal them. He goes by land to Arles, and then the people give him his boats back at Beaucaire. He leaves Marseilles, after another bishop tries to get him to go home, and lands in Acre. Dates on page 42 of source. The Templars and Hospitallers are allied with competing Muslim factions, and Richard ignores them both, to help the Duke of Burgundy rebuild Ascalon.
1241: Richard ratifies a truce with the Sultan of Egypt, and French prisoners are released. He sets off home, and drops in on Frederick II on the way home. Louis IX of France declares his son Alphonse Count of Poitou. The territory is still controlled by Henry and Richard’s stepfather.
1242: Richard arrives at Dover, and travels to London, which has been decorated for his arrival. He brings with him the French prisoner knights, and kits them out. Henry surprises him with a plan to break the truce with the French and invade Gascony and Poitou. He needs money, so he calls a parliament. They tell him that it’s a stupid idea and refuse to give him money. Henry gets his money from Ireland, the Church and the Jews. Then he offers four good manors to Richard, and tells him that if he breaks the truce, Richard is free to go home.
The army has 150 knights and 20 000 marks, but France’s army cuts them off from their supplies. They are about to have a battle, but Richard takes off his armour, and walks across the bridge that separates the two armies with only a pilgrim’s staff. He manages a day’s truce, due to the presence of some of the French knights he’d saved in the Holy Land. The brothers hightail it, and their allies desert them.
1243: Henry spends most of this year tooling about pointlessly in Gascony. He makes Richard Count of Gascony, then changes his mind and calls it off. Richard argues with Henry, and is allowed to go home. Matthew Paris’s book says Henry tries to have Richard imprisoned on his way home, but that doesn’t work and he lands in Scilly in October. On the way he almost has a shipwreck, and he does the abbey for miracle deal, eventually building Hailes as his payoff. At about this stage,
Richard marries the Queen’s sister, Sanchia. She has only a little marriage portion, and there’s no political advantage, so he must have just wanted to. Her potion is 2 000 pounds in money and 1 000 marks per year.
Richard gives up calling himself Count of Poitou, and hands his lands in Gascony and Ireland off to the Crown. He gets better legal rights to his lands in England in exchange.
1244: Richard arranges an extension of the truce with Scotland. The king is broke and the barons force a council of advisers on him.Richard substantially bankroll his brother with loans.
1246: The King tries to stand up against the Pope regarding taxes of the Church. Richard opposes him, because the Pope is still letting him collect 1000 pounds a year to defray the expenses of his crusade. He renews this explicitly in 1246.
1247: Financed and supervised the great recoinage in England. This hadn’t been done since 1180, and Richard gets half the profits, and new coins for his old ones on a one-for-one basis. He arranges to mine the Mint for fifteen years. He also has the right to all related contracts, so there’s probably some graft going down there. He then extends this to the Welsh and Irish mints too. Instead of minting in London, he sets up 12 regional mints, and sends out dies from London. The mints at London and Bedford are operating by the end of 1247.
Richard heads to Normandy to parley with King Louis over Normandy. It doesn’t work, but he helps set up a shrine to Saint Edmund in Pontigny, and is granted a miraculous cure for a serious, if ill-defined, illness.
Richard sends people to the continent to hire people clever with silver.
1248: The mint at Winchester starts operating around New Year. The London mint tests the new coins and sets the king’s rate of farm (sixpence to the pound, with an added 10 pence to the moneyers). If you have pure silver, you can have it assayed and pay only the farm. If you have it assayed and it’s more impure than the new coins, you pay a sixpence penalty).
Norwich, Exeter, Lincoln and Northampton mints start operation. A thousand pounds and dies are sent to them, to get them started. (Security, raiding or copying the dies?) THe king sends out inspectors to catch coiners and clippers, and coins not of the king are made illegal: particularly Scottish coins.
1250: The Bristol Mint closes.
1252: Richard’s profit from the Mint and Exchange is 5 513 pounds for this year.
1254: The Irish Mint closes and sends the dies back to London.
Richard is Regent of England and calls the first full assembly of the knights of the shires. Richard sends his men around England to fine people making their own coins, or changing coins. Richard keeps half the fines. London pays his people 600 pounds to go away. At this stage the king owes him at least 10 000 pounds.
Elected King of the Romans, which is basically Holy Roman Emperor.
1257: Crowned King of the Romans. Richard has rights for “his” merchants which mean they do not pay some of the taxes their competitors pay in England.
Matthew of Paris swears Richard took 365 000 marks with him to Germany.
Richard is in Germany, so Henry tries his hand at this minting business, making a gold penny in Chester, worth 20 silver pennies, later 24.
1259: The Treaty of Paris: England and France finally stop beating on each other.
1261: Richard’s great coinage ends. He’s made about 20 000 pounds out of the business. At least 800 000 pounds of silver pennies have been manufactured, although much of that comes from melting down older coins.
1266: The Hamburg and Lubeck merchants get a Hanse in England.
1272: Death.
Cornwall: Industries
Polwhele doesn’t give a lot of information here: the chapters are perhaps meant to be read in the context of equivalents from the previous era. This feels like a weak chapter. Time to drop this Polwhele guy and find something a bit more detailed.
Agriculture
A lot of “in kind” rent is paid: money rents being known but rare.
Animals
The Cornish sheep are an ancient breed, and their wool is so coarse that it is sold as “Cornish hair”. Legally, Cornish people are not required to pay the fees associated with the export of wool, because whatever is coming off their sheep isn’t proper wool. They claim wool combs were invented in Cornwall. Perhaps they sold them mostly as fleeces?
Cornwall has a native breed of cow, small and black, and dairying was known in period. Goats were used as a forage animals. Small Cornish horses lived semi-wild in the area, apparently. I’m not sure how feasible that is.
Crops
Wheat is the main crop, although barley is also raised in certain areas. Apparently sea sand was used to marl the land for tillage. I’m not sure what the point of that could have been, but there are documents supporting it. Garlick, as Polwhele calls it, turns up in a lot of documents as being grown in kitchen gardens.
Vineyards were known before the Normans arrived, although they improved faming practices considerably. Polwhele notes that wine was cheap to import from Europe, and so there was little incentive to make it in Cornwall. The Normans also bought in orchards, but Polwhele notes that cider making was Saxon in origin, and so there must have been orchards for apples.
Polwhele reports, with some incredulity, that according to Hals, the Cornish have had potatoes since the time of the Normans. In the real world this can’t be true, but it might be true in Mythic Europe. This begs the question: how can this be true?
In https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015049821831;view=1up;seq=45 it is notd that Richard of the Romans imported wheat into Cornwall. He had his own ships and merchants, both for imports and exports.
Mining
Under John, tin mining in Cornwall made negligble profit, but in the time of Richard, King of the Romans, its value was immense. The Muslim invasion of Spain had stopped tin from being purchased there, and it had yet to be discovered in Germany, so Richard essentially had a monopoly on it.
It part, it may be because although streaming continued, shaft mining became prevalent, leading to increased extraction. There were shaft mines in ancient times: tools have been found made of wood and horn. (Faeries?) The shafts here don’t seem much more than 10 or so meters. I’ve heard some shafts go under the sea, but the dating of that is odd and Polwehele doesn’t mention it at all.
He says he’ll give the method of smelting tin in a “future period”, so presumably its in the next volume. Fie on you, Polwhele.
Page 66 of https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015049821831;view=1up;seq=45 gives an accounting of how Richard made money from the stanneries. Basically he had a right to first purchase, and his son at least managed to sell for seven marks tin he’d bought for three.
Manufacture
Little data here: wool, tin, pewter, porcelain, Polwhele mentions that stealite was available at the Lizard.
Trade
Documents were scarce, in Polwhele’s time, giving details of period harbors. He mentions Saltash had various privileges from the castle of Tremarton. Fawey was significant. Truro had the ancient privilege of controlling all of Falmouth harbor, although there is no document for this until 1682, and it might have been inherited from the town of Tregony. There were also ports at Heleton, St Ives, Padstow and Bude. There was a port on Mont Saint Michael called Ruminella. Scilly was, folkloristically, a port for the tin trade with Saracens in ancient times.
The main exports are tin and fish. In Roman times there was a lot of alluvial gold and iron, as well.
The biggest market was at Launceston, which took the market from St Stephen’s town just after the conquest, and in the time of King John paid a fee to be allowed to move their market from Sunday to Thursday. Most other markets in Cornwall are on Saturdays, near churches. There are many weekly markets, with annual fairs.
The fair at Mazarion is the fair for Saint Michael’s Mont. They had a tithing barn there, apparently. The right ot hold it was given by Richard of the Romans.
There was a mint in Exeter. At various times eavery nobleman could have his own, but by the game period that had settled back down.
Notes on the Cornish:
Rounding out the volume: Saxon writers note that the Cornish are generous and brave. They are also long-lived and strong. They are less ostentatious than the Normans, and don’t have the Saxon love of war. The Cornish have indelicate manners. The nobles hunt, and cock fight. The lower classes hurl and wrestle.
Payton’s Cornwall Notes
These notes come from Philip Payton’s “Cornwall”. I need them for covenant income sources, character backgrounds, and material bonuses for enchanted objects.
Stone
Granite and slate are the core building materials. There are a heap of others: https://www.bgs.ac.uk/downloads/start.cfm?id=2017
Metals
The metals found in Cornwall:
- Copper and Tin are found everywhere. Some of he copper has an interesting arborescent (“plant like”) growth.
- Silver-lead is found in the centre and east of Cornwall.
- Gold is found in tiny nuggets. The largest noted in my source material was 6mm long.
- Iron is found in commercial quantities in at least two sites
- Pitchblende (uranium) is found in at least two sites
- Manganese is found on Bodmin Moor
- Wolfram is found on Goss Moor
- Antimony is found in one site on the north coast.
Minerals
- Cassiterite is the main mineral from which tin is smelted. Its a tin oxide. Sometimes it forms large, tetrahedral crystals, which are translucent when small, and opaque when thicker. These are called “tin diamonds”. Cassiterite is about 78% tin.
- Cerussite is a carbonate of lead that creates fragile, white needles.
- Chalcopyrite, also called “blistered copper” is a sulphide of copper that looks bubbly. It’s the main mineral from which copper is smelted. Some chalcopyrite is 30.5% iron and 34.5% copper, and is deep in the ground, which makes it hard to economically mine. Magi would have an easier time, because smelting fuel is free.
- Chalcocite is a mineral that’s about 79% copper, but it is usually found below the water table, which makes it hard ot mine.
- Galena is a sulphide of lead which is soft and silver.
- Kaolinite (china clay) is found in many sites in the north of Cornwall. It’s caused by granite decaying. This happens as it soaks up water and is warmed by the mild radioactivity decay in granite. Can magi make this happen faster? I presume so.
- Olivenite is a green mineral that’s an arsenate of copper.
- Topaz is found in certain places.
Cornwall has a lot of other minerals, from single mines. In my notes, 15% of all recognised minerals are found in Cornwall. It’s an older book, but the point is that if you want to make a realia collection of minerals, Cornwall’s a great place.
Lunulae were found in Cornwall. For a faerie?
Roman sites: runs from Exeter. Camel Estuary, Carvossa and Carloggas were significant Roman sites. Only a few Roman milestones: not really on the road network.
Industries
- Robert of Mortain built Launceston and Tremarton. Launceston is the only walled town in Cornwall.
- Truro was an illegal (“adulterine”) castle built during the Stephen and Matilda thing.
- Lostwithiel is the capital of Cornwall in Richard of Cornwall’s son’s time. Check date of transisition from Launceston.
- Stannary Goal in Lydford?
Cornish manors don’t follow the English pattern. No demense manors as such. No strip agriculture. Lots of tenants.- Free/villein/cottar is English. In Cornwall you have free, conventionary and villein. The most common is conventionary, where the person has a seven year lease. Free people owe some basic dues. Villeins are rare, and increasingly rare as time goes on. Villeins are tied to land, but the Cornish rules don’t like that and prefer people to go to free.
- Little harbours: Fowey, Looe, Penryn, Tregony, Saltmarsh.
- Richard gave borough charters to Bossiney, Tintagel, Camelford, West Looe, Bodmin, Launceston, Liskeard, Lostwithiel.
- Tax on smelted tin from late C11th. 1201 Charter of the Stanneries. 4 areas.
- In 1200, 93% of Cornwall speaks Cornish.
15th century industries to expand
Shipping, shipbuilding, fishing, quarrying, textile manufacturing, tin mining, tin streaming, agriculture (pasturing, wheat, oats, rye, barley
Cornwall: Military Architecture
Polwhele says that if a castle existed before the Normans, it’s in his previous book. I’m not saying I now jovially hate him, but he is putting extra weight on the side of the scale that says I need to go back and read his first volume. Honestly I don’t want to, because it’s slightly past the futility point on this research. Let us instead power on to identify significant sites.
He gives a few tidbits that are significant. The Saxons used the beacon hills of Cornwall to keep the local subdued. At Trewithan there’s a battlefield, called the Swordfield, where the blood of the fallen Danes sprouted as “Dane’s-wort” or dwarf elder. This could be a vis source. In St Blazey there’s a stone inscribed “The Saxons came this far, and no further”. The Giant’s Castle in Saint Mary’s the Scily Isles, is a defensive, non-residental structure I’ll need to look into a s a potential faerie court or covenant site.
Residential castles
I need to work each of these up.
Bocastle: I need more information here.
Caer-guidn is said to be “similar to Tintagel in structure”. The name means “White Castle”.
Carn-brea is a former chapter house.
Exeter is outside Cornwall, but is perhaps important enough to be drawn into this work. It was built just after the Norman invasion.
Helston: Flags the existence of a castle, but gives no detail.
Launceston was a castle the predated the Normans: it was the home of the Earl of Cornwall at the time of the Norman invasion. It was given to Robert of Moreton, but after his son died without a heir it fell into the royal lands until the Earldom was revived under Richard, and he preferred a different castle.
Pengerswick is described as a small castle, basically two towers. It’s more a noble’s fortified house than a royal castle, like the others here. It’s important for folkloristic reasons.
Restormel: was a castle of the old Cornish kings, but it become the main home of Richard of the Romans.
Ruan-Lanyhorne: a pre-Norman castle, perhaps. It seems to belong to the archdeacons? Sometimes it’s just called Lanyhorne, and isn’t in Domesday. At some point it was a prison. Polwhele gives a lot of detail about this place, many pages, but they are from a later period. a local man said the castle was once the home of a giant who contended with the giant of “Trelonk” by throwing stones. Where this was is a matter of conjecture. It means “noble long (house)”
St Michaels Mont is fortified, but not covered in this chapter because of its ecclesiastic history. Henry I was besieged there a couple of times.
Tintagel is one of the castles of the old Cornish kings. Richard of the Romans bought this land from its owner, rebuilt the castle here, and had a feast for his nephew David of Wales. Edmund, the son of Richard of the Romans, lived here.
Tregoney: A pre-Norman castle, seat of the powerful Pomeroy family.
Trematon: near St Stephen’s, is a castle that predates the Normans, and was swept up by Robert of Merton when he lobbed in. It had 59 kight fees in the time of Richard I. On pdf 399 (vol 2, p130) Polwhele gives the line of descent of the mastery of the castle, in case it matters.
Truro had a castle, perhaps pre-Norman. Little detail.\
Cornwall: Scilly Islands
I’ve been having trouble getting material on Scilly: enough to go forward, but I’ve written to various people for help finding folklore. Let’s begin.
The capital of Scilly in the 20th Century is St Mary’s, but in the C13th, it’s what’s now called “Old Town”. In period I think it’s called Ennor (although that could just be “Old Town in Cornish.) My notes also say it was called St Mary’s, and after and inundation they moved the town.
There are a series of charters giving all of Scilly to the abbots of Tavistock. Later, they may belong to Tresco? That being said the king seems to send governors to the island, who are also constables of the castle at Ennor, and they seem to have rights over the islands as well. The yearly fee for the islands, in the C13th, was six shillings and eight pence, or 300 puffins. There is no record of this payment ever actually being made in seabirds. The governor also had to pay for twelve men at arms to keep the peace on the island.
There are two giant sites in the Scilly Isles: Giant’s Castle and Giant’s Punchbowl. The punchbowl is a Logan stone.
In the 17th century ore-weed (kelp) was harvested and burned in kilns, to make alkali for glass and soap. This might work for a covenant.
There is a white narcissus (called a “Scilly White”) which might work as a vis source. A relative is found near St Michael Mount. I need to alos check out other famous flowers grown here in the C19th. (Soleil d’Ors, Grand Monarques, Pheasant Eyes, and the Yellow Daffodil).
Some people claim that Lyonesse refers to the roar of the water between Cornwall and the Scilly Isles. That’s a water elemental/faerie.
Cornwall: Castles – further notes
Note on nobility.
At the end of the C12th, there were three baronies in Cornwall, Launceston, Cardinham and Trematon.
Launceston merges with the Duchy when Richard of the Romans takes it over. The previous holder of both titles having died without heirs in 1175, the land returned to the Crown, so that Henry III could hand it out. It is centred on Launceston.
In 1166 Tremarton had 59 knights fees, so it was relatively large. It was held by the de Valletort family, but sold to Richard of the Romans in 1270 for 300 pounds. The family was prominent in Devon.
Cardinham had 79 knight’s fees in 1166. The ruler is Robert de Cardinham (there are three of them in a row). The barony keeps going until 1501. They held a castle at Cardinham, which was originally a motte and bailey put up by one of Robert of Mortain’s supporters. I can’t see reference to it being redone in stone. They also owned Restmorel Castle, which was their headquarters in the game period.
They rebuilt it in stone, making it into a shell keep, sometime during the lordship of the Robert who was around from 1192-1225. They also set up the village of Lostwithiel at this time. At some point is is given away in dowry for Isolda de Cardinham, and her hsuband, Thomas de Tracey, holds it until 1264, when it is taken by the baron’s revolt, then taken back by the king’s forces in 1265. With some politicking, Isolda gives it to Richard of the Romans in 1270, who dies. His son makes it his seat of power in the duchy.
Castles
There are four great Norman castles in Cornwall: Launceston, Restmorel, Tintagel and Tremarton. Fortunately two of those are virtually the same.
Bocastle: At this stage it’s a Norman motte and bailey castle.
Carn Brea: Although my sources mention this, I can’t trace a castle here back before 1478. The modern castle is a C18th folly.
Ennor: a shell keep in the Old Town of Scilly.
Helston: This was in ruins by 1478. It may have been a fortified manor house. It’s recorded as being put up by an earl of Cornwall.
Launceston: This castle was originally built by Robert of Mortain as a Norman motte and bailey (timber and earth) castle. The castle took up the south-west quarter of the town, and had its keep in the north-east corner of the enclosure, so it was near the town centre. In the late 12th century, the keep was replaced in stone, and two stone gatehouses added. Over time towers were added to the walls, the buildings in the bailey were redone in stone.
When Richard takes over, he replaces the keep with a high tower, remakes the walls, and ties the castle’s defences to those of the town. He also clears out the bailey and puts in a new great hall.
Ruan Lanihorne: dates from 1334.
St Michael’s Mont: clearly needs a map. I need to find one with clear rights.
Tintagel: Was rebuilt substantially by Richard of the Romans to tie his house to the myth of Arthur. Many of the ruins now visible there are from his time. I need a map with rights in period, but English Heritage have a pdf.
Tregony: A motte and bailey built by Henry de Pomeroy on behalf of John, Earl of Cornwall, in the reign of Richard 1 (no later than 1199).
Trematon: Probably a Roman fort, remodelled by Robert of Mortain into a motte and bailey. Richard of the Romans buys it in 1270 for 300 pounds, and it’s still owned by the Duchy of Cornwall today. It’s now a shell keep and stone walled bailey, a lot like Restmorel, and I’m tempted to say that Richard fitted it out, but can’t prove that.
Truro Castle: abandoned, indeed the land is vacant, by 1270. May be pre-Norman, may have been motte and bailey. No evidence that it was adulterine when built or rebuilt in the Anarchy.
Pegerswick: fortfied manor house. Dates from 1510. I’m keeping it because I want the sorcererous lord.
Restmorel
A – gate; B – guest chambers; C – kitchen; D – hall; E – solar; F – chapel
Notes from Medieval Cornwall by Elliott-Binns
We are almost done with the research phase. After this I want to go through Carew’s 1605 Guide to Cornwall. There is also a book of Scillion folklore. I’m getting to the futility point, though; my sources are quoting either each other or Carew. After that, it’s collating, making plot hooks explicit, and getting art together. I also need to decide on professional or amateur maps.
Timeline
1201: The Warden of the Stanneries gets formal criminal and civil juristiction over the miners, although tradition pushes this back a lot further. The Warden appoints Stewards, who look after local stanneries. There are four in Cornwall.
1204: The Cornish pay a large fee so that there are not royal forests or forest courts, in their country anymore. They have the Stanneries, though. Stannery court for Cornwall at Launceston, but possibly at a later stage: may move around.
1213: Farm of Cornish stanneries is 200 marks to the king.
1217: Gulua the Papal Legate, prevents clergy from partaking in the general amnesty offered in the Treaty of Lambeth, which forces a lot of priests to go to Rome for personal absolution.
1220: Pandulf, Pala Legate, visits Cornwall. Henry Fitz Count loses the shrievalty because he has withdrawn from court without permissin and is suspected of preparing to rebel.
1224: John of Bayeux is made keeper of the coasts of Cornwall and Devon. He is made to provide beacons for every coastal parish.
1226: English ships are forbidden to visit French ports.
1230: Ships requisitioned to invade Brittany.
1242: Willima Marsh raids Devon and Cornwall, and siezes Lundy Island, which lets you reuse the Diabolic Monk Pirate material for the line.
A shire is divided into hundreds, which are divided into tithings, although in Cornwall a hundred and a shire gets confused. Cornwall in the late C13th has nine hundreds.
Stannary rights
Tinners cannot be served warrants from other courts, and may not issue them except for life, limb or land. They may not be forced to be jurors at other courts.
If a tinner became involved in a case in a different sort of court he could deamnd half the jury be tinners.
Who counts as a tinner varies over time. In1376 the law was changed to make it only people who actually mine. Earlier, like in the game period, it includes everyone involved in the industry: artisans who supply tinners and shareholders in mines, as examples.
When tin is discovered on church lands, tinner have the right to seek it. In 1237 the Church tries to get the Crown to rule against this and fails. After this, they refuse to show up in Stannary court, and in 1391 the Church says it’ll esxcommunicate anyone who tries ot draw the church in to the Stannary court system.
The Manor of Bossinney contains Tintagel, and was transfered by Henry Fitz Count to Robert de Hornicote. Henry Fitz Count was the natural son of Henry II, sheriff of Cornwall until 1215, then he swaps it back and forward.
Imports
Fruit from Spain
Fish and mantles from Ireland.
Salt, linen and canvas Brittany (the Cornish don’t make a lot of salt…weird, because they brine a lot of fish using French salt).
Wood and charcoal from Wales and Ireland
Other notes
Copper first mined in the C16th
Most towns have a merchant gild
Gloves on poles mark fair as open.
Shire assizes are at Launceston, move to Lostwithel in Earl Richard’s time, but later move back.
Cornwall: Carew’s Survey 1
Carew’s Survey of Cornwall is an interesting little book, filled with useful material and much quoted by my more modern sources. It was written in 1605, and the version I’m using, which is copied from Internet Archive, has the linguistic quirks of the time. It uses the f for long s, and has the letters U and V reversed to the modern sounds. I spent a good minute wondering who the Lord of the Foyle was, before I realised he meant “lord of the soil”. I’m so pleased with it I’m thinking of Librivoxing it once I’m done with my other projects.
In this next little series, I’m cutting up Carew in an arbitrary way: his book lacks the sort of internal divisions which might sensibly be used.
Minerals (Stones and Metals)
I need this for shape and material bonuses, but also just to describe how buildings look.
- “Rough” which I presume is granite
- Slate, which is slower but surer than rough, when building. There are three types: blue (the best), sage-leaf coloured and gray (the “meanest”). “In substance thin, in colour fair, in weight light, in lasting strong”. The blue type is generally on top as mined, and its found at about the water level.
- Moorstone, which is used for window and door frames and sparkles at certain angles.
- Pentuan, dug out of sea cliffs and coloured like grey marble.
- Caracloufe stone, which is black.
- Quarried freestone.
- Pebble stones, which are sea stones that have been tumbled smooth and are used for paving.
- A type of marle-stone is baked with furze or coal to make lime. Coal is more expensive but makes a whiterl ime.
- Copper is found in various places, but people seem to be secretive about it. Silver and gold are also found.
- “Dyamonds are in many places found cleauing to those Rockes out of which the Tynne is digged; they are polifhed, fquared and pointed by nautre.” I’ll stop that now: Carew knows these are not “right” diamonds, they are darker and less hard, but says they can fool a lapidary at times, and they get as big as a walnut.
- There are pearls here, but they are not as large or round as oriental ones.
- Agates and white coral are found in Cornwall, which means he’s seen the substance those snakestons are made of.
Tin (or Tynne…no, I’ll stop)
Carew loves tin. “It cannont be of mean price which has found, with it, diamonds, amongst it gold, and within it silver.” He’s good at turns of phrase, Carew. that’s why I’m interested in recording him.
Sometimes the tinners dig up trees, which they see as proof of the flood of Noah. Vis source!
Carew mentions a metaphor that the tine is like a river, or a tree, or the veins of a man’s body, with the main load deep in the earth, and lesser loads spreading out through the land from it. I can use that literally for a dragon or giant or something.
The tinners believe that their works are ancient, and were first hewn by Jews, who used pickaxes of “holme ,boxe and harts” horn. I know that last one is deer. I’ll need to check the others. They sometimes find small, ancient, brass tool fittings, which they call “thunderheads”.
There are two types of mining, stream and load. First the tinner finds a shoad (a patch of tin on the surface of the ground). Then he either digs a stream (a trench 6 feet deep by three or four wide) or sinks a shaft (four feet long, two feet wide, seven feet deep) then either follows the load, or sinks a fresh shaft further along his supposed line of the load. If a river gets in the way of a stream, then the miners divert it, which is legal, but landlords hate it because it causes flooding on farmland until they divert it back, wrecking crops.
Some people who have dreams which reveal the location of valuable loads.
People have noticed that if you look over the spoil heaps of mines, you’ll often find valuable tin, apparently missed by the miners who came before. They don’t know their technology is getting better: they think that tin regrows. If all of the tin is linked and it is growing, is it like a vast mushroom, or the circulatory system of a giant or dragon? Did Scilly sink because it moved?
Carew’s notes on mining
When a miner fines a lode, he needs to pay a fee to claim it, so he gets some partners in case it all goes wrong, and they go shares. The partners choose a Captain, who acts as a sort of quartermaster and arranges working times. Carew says the toil is so extreme most miners work only four hours on workdays.
The basic tool is a pickaxe with a spike on one end, and a mallet on the other for driving in iron wedges.
The loads may go down to forty or fifty fathoms. Sometimes you can see stars at noonday if you are that deep, which is cool for an astronomer covenant. Men go into the mine on a rope that is winched by two other men, and the miner stands in a stirrup on the way down. Miners sometimesw only get a foot a week? Damps may “distemper their heads” The trusses in the mines are wooden, and often cave in.
Carew talks about devices to drain water. I’m not sure how in period they are.
When the tin is mined it is ac carried in wains or on horseback to a stamping mill. If the stone is too damp it’s dried on a grill before being stamped. Basically the stamping mill is three or five poles, shod in iron, which rise and fall as a waterwheel turns. This grinds the ore down. It’s then sent to a crazing mill, where it is ground through water-powered millstones, to a fine sand. Wet stampers, which are a new idea to Carew, do not need crazing mills.
The tinner then takes the sand away and puts it on sheets of turf, and washes it. The heavier tin stays. THey then put this tin in a big wooden dish and do something like gold panning. This is now called “black tin” and this is split between the partners. Tin is weighed by the Gill, Toplisse (Topliffe?), Dish and Foote, which are a pint, pottel, gallon and almost two gallons. A foote weighs about 40 pounds. Two pounds of black tin give one pound of white tin.
The man takes his tin to a blowing house, where it is melted in a coal fire stoked with watermill powered bellows. It is then set in thin, square ingots. The tin is sold at markets called Coynages. There are two per year. Carew describes the lies the merchant and miner tell each other to shift the price. Generally the merchant and a tinwork’s owner will start the fair with a big sale, which sets the anchor value for the price.
There’s a type of banking here that allows a miner to borrow money and pay back in tin. As the price of the tin is not known in advance, there’s technically no usury here. The merchant is kind of a partner.
Carew says that miner’s families are lazy and mining wrecks the morals and body of the miner, which can be recovered by farming.
Cornwall: Carew’s Itinerary 2
Living things in Cornwall
Herbs: Cornwall has a vast amount of Seaholm and Sampire. Seaholm is candied or made into a syrup. It’s a restorative. Rofa folis? Also has Hyssop, sage, pelamountayne, marjorum, and rosemary.
Few Cornish people farm, comparatively: food is imported from Devon and Somerset. Wild fruits include “whurts, strawberries, and raspies.” Orchards provide pears, plums, peareplummes, cherries, mulberries, chestnuts and walnuts. Carew is surprised by the lack of grapes given the limestone around the place.
The main fuel is furze (which seems to be a sort of broom). There are few woods, and they are coppiced. THey dry turfs and use them as fuel, and bring in sea coal from Wales. Timber is too valuable for mine stays and shipbuilding for wood to be used in charcoal.
There are snakes in Cornwall, and the stories Carew gives appeared in Hunt, so they need not be listed here. He does mention a man who caught a snake and broke out its fangs, so that he could use it to scare ladies. He would kiss it as a joke. Eventually it bit his toungue, either with a regrown tooth or a shard he had failed to remove, and he almost died of a swollen tongue.
Cornwall has a lot of rats: they are its main vermin. It also has martens, squirrels, foxes, badgers, otters, hares, coneys, and deer. Its domestic animals include pigs, goats, sheep, cattle, oxen, horses, dogs. Cattle aren’t much raised here: (beef, whitsull, leather, tallow are not particularly expensive, though). Oddly mules are not used as much as horses.
Carew notes doves, geese, ducks, peacocks, sinney ducks, china geese, and barbary hens. Wild birds include quails, rails, partiridges, pheasants, plovers, snyte (?), wood doe, wood cocks, merlins, sparhawks, hobbies and lannards. Her notes Cornish people are really interested in hawking and are happy to spend more to keep a hawk than it brings in as a hunter, showing he’s never had a hobby in his life. Singing birds are lynnets, goldfinches, ruddocks, canaries (?), blackbirds, thrushes. He says there are no owls, which sounds suspicious to me. He then gives the story, recorded in Hunt, of swallows hanging out in the bottom of quarries and rivers during the winter.
Seafood
Shellfish include winkles,limpets, cockles, mussels, shrimps, sheaths (razorfish), sea hedge hogs (urchins), crabs, lobsters, oysters. Carew believes crabs breed in the shells of cockles, and lobsters in the shells of winkles.
Fish include the sdab, plaice, flake, sole, thornback, brit, sprat, whiting scad, chad, shark, cuttle, eel, porpoise, whale. salmon, shoat, trout. Most important is the pilchard.
The fish are caught by line, spiller (a long line with lots of hooks), spear, and netting estuaries, making a sort of fishtrap with nets and poles, and drag netting. Oysters are pulled at high tide or with a weighted dragnet. Oysters have a “milk” in them in May and June which engenders younger oysters (not in Mythic Europe?) and they don’t taste as good at that time.
There are dark nuts found on the shore which are good for women in childbirth.
He also notes orewood, which is an edible seaweed.
Carew says that seals are kind of like aquatic pigs, but they delight in music and will come toward it.
Starfish are poisonous. He also mentions a “blobber” saying not to eat it because it is basically living sea muck, and that barnacle geese are geese.
Cornwall: Carew’s itinerary 3
Tenancy
Carew notes that commonly
- 30 acres make a farthing,
- 9 farthings make a Cornish acre.
- 4 Cornish acres are a knight’s fee.
Most tenants are required to
- pay “due capons” which are probably head taxes, not actually capons.
- make harvest journeys
- grind at the mill
- sue at the court
- discharge the duties of reeve and tithing-man.
- dwell upon the tenement and not till any part without the lord’s permission.
Other are made on lord-and-vassal basis, including paying the heriot (the best beast on death).
Cornish names
Carew says they sound Welsh. Surnames often start with Tre, Pol or Pen, which mean a town, a top or a head.
Hurling notes
There are two types
Hurling at goals
Each team has 15, 20 or 30 men, more or less. It is played stripped to the lightest apparel. The men pair off, sometimes by hugging. The pitch has two goals, perhaps 8-10 feet wide. separated by 100 to 120 feet. Each has a goal keeper. An “indifferent person” tosses the ball, and whoever can carry it through the opponent’s goal wins. The carrier is opposed by his pair from before, who pushes him in the chest with his closed fist, to check his progress. This is called Butting.
If he gets past the first one, he then faces off with another and anthor, until a part of his body touches the ground, or he yells “hold”. Then he must pass the ball (called “dealing”) to one of his fellow, who can use his agility to avoid many of the defenders. It’s a low scoring game, but there’s prestige in being the one who has the ball longest, who makes the most gain, or causes the most falls.
There are many laws. The key ones are that the hurlers must hurle manto man, no teaming up when pushing for the ball. The man carrying must butt only in the chest. The man opposing above the belt. He may not pass forward. If the ball is caught in mid-deal, the side gains possession of it.
“The least breach of these laws, the hurlers take for a just cause of going together by the ears, but with their fists only, neither do they seek revenge for wrongs or hurts, but at the like play again.” The game is generally held at weddings, where the guests take on all comers.
Hurling to country
Two gentlemen bring teams, of whatever size to an appointed place. The goals are generally the houses of the gentlemen. There is no pairing off. A ball is tossed, and the player that grabs it runs and is pursued. He is chased until he is “laid flat on God’s dear earth” which means he may no longer handle the ball during the match, so he throws it to one of his fellows, with the same risk of interception as before. People may pass forward, and spectators may call out to point out the location of the ball to players. The tackled player may rejoin play.
Play may proceed through any barrier, so sometimes you see mats of men fighting for the ball in the river. Horses may be used, but since each side knows this, they tend to put men at choke-points a horse would need to slow down at, to tackle the rider (and sometimes the horse). The possessing team may form a defensive scrum around their carrier, or may form a scrum around a false carrier while the real one goes off a longer way, The one who crosses goal is often given the ball as a trophy, and drinks a lot of beer.
Wrestling
The people at a match form a ring, which they call “making a space”. The men to wrestle strip down to their looser garments. They shake hands. The winner is the one who makes his opponents back, or his shoulder and contrary-side ankle land on the ground. Each wrestler must wear a belt, and only hold his opponent’s belt. Matches are best of three, and the winner takes on the next challenger, not being challenged by one he has beaten in that set of matches.
Carew says there are many tricks which allow a weak man to beat a strong one. He names the trip, fore-hip, inturne, faulx, forward and backward, the mare, and says there are others.
A little ditty about Richard of the Romans:
“Money said that for her sake,
Rome did Cornwall wife to take.”
And that ends Carew.
I should probably now read “Scilly and its Legends” or something similar to write the fallen covenant there, but I can’t bring myself to. I’m a bit burned out by the frogmarching of the post a day thing.
Cornwall notes: Fallen covenants
In Heirs to Merlin there are two fallen covenants.
Stellasper
This one is is Scilly. I suppose I should have looked up more Sicily folklore before I wrote this. Stellasper was a Criamon covenant founded in 1025, and everyone vanished in 1163. The name means “through the stars” or possibly “during the stars”. I presume it’s an astrological sept.
Sursum
Was on the northern coast of Cornwall. Presumably it is a mine. It was destroyed in 937, and its Tytalus was one of the first signs of the Corruption. The name is an abbreviation of “subversum”. Presumably it’s a mine, and one of those stupid things where Infernally-aligned characters can’t help but do the Riddler thing. So, this is a dungeon, presumably.
Games From Folktales 