The old woman who turned out her shift

'IN a lone house--situated not far from the hill on which now stands Knill's Steeple, as it is called--which was then known as Chyanwheal, or the House on the Mine, lived a lone woman, the widow of a miner, said to have been killed in one of the very ancient "coffens," as the open mine-workings existing in this hill are termed. A village now bears this name, but it has derived it from this lone house. Whether it was that they presumed upon her solitude, or whether the old lady had given them some inducement, is not now known, but the spriggans of Trencrom Hill were in the habit of meeting almost every night in her cottage to divide their plunder. The old woman usually slept, or at least she pretended to sleep, during the visit of the spriggans. When they left, they always placed a small coin on the table by her bedside, and with this indeed the old woman was enabled to provide herself with not merely the necessaries of life, but to add thereto a few of those things which were luxuries to one in her position. The old lady, however, was not satisfied with this. She resolved to bide her time, and when the spriggans had an unusually large amount of plunder, to make herself rich at once and for ever at their expense. Such a time at last arrived. The spriggans had gathered, we know not how much valuable gold and jewellery. It gleamed and glistened on the floor, and the old woman in bed looked on with a most covetous eye. After a while, it appears, the spriggans were not able to settle the question of division with their usual amicability. The little thieves began to quarrel amongst themselves.


Now, thought the old woman, is my time. Therefore huddling herself up under the bedclothes, she very adroitly contrived to turn her shift, and having completed the unfailing charm, she jumped from her bed, placed her hand on a gold cup, and exclaimed, "Thee shusn't hae one on 'em!"
 
In affright the spriggans all scampered away, leaving their stolen treasure behind them. The last and boldest of the spriggans, however, swept his hand over the old woman's only garment as he left the house. The old woman, now wealthy, removed in a little time from Chyanwheal to St Ives, and, to the surprise of every one, purchased property and lived like a gentlewoman. Whenever, however, she put on the shift which had secured her her wealth, she was tortured beyond endurance. The doctors and all the learned people used hard names to describe her pains, but the wise women knew all along that they came of the spriggans.'

Hunt 1903

Fairy Revel at the Gump, St Just - Part 6

'...Whir! whir! whir! as if a flight of bees were passing him, buzzed in his ears. Every limb, from head to foot, was as if stuck full of pins and pinched with tweezers. He could not move, he was changed to the ground. By some means he had rolled down the mound, and lay on his back with his arms outstretched, arms and legs being secured by magic chains to the earth; therefore, although he suffered great agony, he could not stir, and, strange enough, his tongue appeared tied by cords, so that he could not call. He had lain, no one can tell how long, in this sad plight, when he felt as if a number of insects were running over him, and by the light of the moon he saw standing on his nose one of the spriggans, who looked exceedingly like a small dragon-fly. This little monster stamped and jumped with great delight; and having had his own fun upon the elevated piece of humanity, he laughed most outrageously, and shouted, "Away, away, I smell the day!" Upon this the army of small people, who had taken possession of the old man's body, moved quickly away, and left our discomfited hero alone on the Gump.

Bewildered, or, as he said, bedevilled, he lay still to gather up his thoughts. At length the sun arose, and then he found that he had been tied to the ground by myriads of gossamer webs, which were now covered with dew, and glistened like diamonds in the sunshine.  He shook himself, and was free. He rose wet, cold, and ashamed. Sulkily he made his way to his home. It was a long time before,his friends could learn from the old man where he had passed the night, but, by slow degrees, they gathered the story I have related to you.'

Hunt 1903

Fairy Revel on teh Gump at St Just - part 5

'...Well, thought the old man, now is my time; if I could only crawl up to the prince's table, I should have a catch sure enough, and become a rich man for life. With his greedy mind fixed on this one object, and unobservant of everything else, he crouched down, as though by, so doing he could escape observation, and very slowly and stealthily advanced amongst the revellers. He never saw that thousands of spriggans had thrown little strings about him, and that they still held the ends of the threads. The presence of this selfish old mortal did not in any way discompose the assembly; they ate and drank and were as merry as though no human eye was looking on them. The old man was wondrous cautious lest he should disturb the feasters, consequently a long time was spent in getting, as he desired, to the back of the mound. At length he reached the desired spot, and, to his surprise, all was dark and gloomy behind him, but in front of the mound all was a blaze of light. Crawling like a serpent on his belly, trembling with anxiety, the old man advanced close to the prince and princess. He was somewhat startled to find, as he looked out over the mound, that every one of the thousands of eyes in that multitude was fixed on his. He gazed a while, all the time screwing his courage up; then, as a boy who would catch a butterfly, he took off his hat and carefully raised it, so as to cover the prince, the princess, and their costly table, and, when about to close it upon them, a shrill whistle was heard, the old man's hand was fixed powerless in the air, and everything became dark around him....' [cont.]

Hunt 1903

Fairy Revels on the Gump, St Just - Part 2

'...Every blade of grass was hung with lamps, and every furze bush was illuminated with stars Out from the opening in the hill marched a host of spriggans, as if to clear the road. Then came an immense number of musicians playing on every kind of instrument. These were followed by troop after troop of soldiers, each troop bearing aloft their banner, which appeared to spread itself, to display its blazonry, without the assistance of any breeze. All these arranged themselves in order over the ground, some here and some there. One thing was not at all to our friend's liking; several hundreds of the most grotesque of the spriggans placed themselves so as to enclose the spot on which he was standing. Yet, as they were none of them higher than his shoe-tie, he thought he could "squash" them easily with his foot if they were up to any mischief and so he consoled himself. This vast array having disposed of themselves, first came a crowd of servants bearing vessels of silver and vessels of gold, goblets cut out of diamonds, rubies, and other precious stones. There were others laden, almost to overflowing, with the richest meats, pastry, preserves, and fruits. Presently the ground was covered with tables and everything was arranged in the most systematic order,--each party failing back as they disposed of their burdens...' {cont.]

Hunt 1903

The Spriggan's Child

I'LL tell you a tale, an you've patience to hear an,
'Bout the Spriggans, that swarm round Partinney still--
You knew Janey Tregeer, who lives in Brea Vean,

In the village just under the Chapel Hill.
One arternoon she went out for to reap,
And left the child in the cradle asleep:
Janey took good care to cover the fire;--
Turn'd down the brandis on the baking.ire (iron),
Swept up the ashes on the hearthstone,
And so left the child in the house all alone--
The boys had all on 'em gone away,
Some to work and some to play.
Janey work'd in the field as gay as a lark,
And when she came home it was nearly dark;
The furst thing she saw when she open'd the door
Was the cradle upset--all the straw on the floor.

But no child in sight--
She search'd all round --
Still no child was found:
And it got dark night.
So great was Jane's fright,
That for more than an hour
She hadn't the power
To strike a light.

However, she kindled the fire at last,
And threw in a faggot to make a blast.
As she stoop'd over the wood.corner stone,
She heard a sound 'tween a cry and a moan --
It clearly came from a bundle of ferns--
The two bigger boy's bed--
And there, sure enough, as frighten'd she turns,
Janey saw the child's head.

'Twas very queer. How the child got there,
Nobody could say;Yet ever since that day, the
And blinking and peeping, when it ought to be sleeping,
But seldom it closed its eyes.
Jane said for a child it look'd too wise --
That, she thought it a changeling
She didn't disguise--
And often and often the gave it a beating,
To stop--but she couldn't--its cussed bleating.

Janey resolved to work the spell,
And whene'er she could stay,
She bath'd the brat in the Chapel Well --
Which he thought rare play.

On the three first Wednesdays in flow'ry May
She plunged it deep at the dawn of day--
Pass'd it slowly three times against the sun,
Went three times round,--and when all was clone,
The imp of a child roar'd aloud for fun.
No tongue can tell
The trouble it gave her
To dip the shaver,
And work the spell.

From Brea to Chapel-Uny is a mile or more,
And surely it tried Janey's patience sore
To trudge forth and back from the Chapel Well,
With this brat on her back, to work the spell.

She wish'd it dead; but it wouldn't die:
It ate its bread, it would pine and cry;
And Janey was nearly beside herself
With this plague of her life--this wicked elf.

Well, one rainy day,--as it rains in May,--
Janey set out with the child in her arms
Once more to work the holy charms.
When very close to the top of the hill,
Where she was sure there was nobody near,
She heard the strangest voice in her ear,
Saying these words, quite clear and shrill --
"Tredrill Tredrill! thy wife and children greet thee well."

Oh, Janey's heart-strings were like to crack,
When up spake the thing in her arms, good lack!--
" For wife or child little care I,
They may laugh,
Or they may cry,--
While milk I quaff;
When I am dry--
Get of my pap my fill
Whenever I will,
On the dowdy's back ride,
With my legs astride,
When we work the spell
At the Chapel Well"

Janey dropp'd the cussed thing on the ground,
And turn'd round, and round, and round;
You may be sure she was in a fright
To hear the sound, and nobody in sight,
And to hear a child talkMonths before it could walk.
She has said o'er and -o'er,
And I am sure you can't wonder,
'Twouldn't frighten her more,
Had the rocks burst asunder,
And the earth belch'd forth thunder,

When Janey at length got over the fright
From hearing the sound and nobody in sight,
And the brat which lay crying, as if it was dying,
Talking out like a man of his wife and his child,
She felt all bedazzled as if she was wild--
Took the brat by the arm, flung it over her shoulder--
Wouldn't believe it her child if the parson had told her--
Thought the devil was in it,
As she ran the hill down,
Without -stopping a minute
Till she came to Brea -town.

The old women came out, and all on 'em agreed
'Twas the strangest thing that ever they seed;
They stood in a row, and each one had a word --
'Twas the wonderfull'st story that ever they heard;
'Twas a Spriggan's brat--they were all sure of that--
No more like Jane's child than an old ram-cat.
She must beat it black, she must beat it blue,
Bruise its body all o'er with the heel of her shoe--
Then lay it alone beneath the church stile,
And keep out of hearing and sight for a while--
When every one said, as every one thought,
That Janey's child would again be brought:
Some said 'twould be living--some said 'twould be dead -
But the Spriggan's base brat she no longer need dread.

Jane beat the babe black,
And she beat the babe blue,
On the ashes' pile before the door;
And she would have beaten it ten times more,
But out of her hand she lost her shoe,
Struck away all at once - by she couldn't tell who.

The brat bad roar'd--it could roar no more--
So they carried it off to the old church stile,
And laid it under the stones--some swore
That when placed on the earth it was seen to smile --
Then all turn'd back, and kept far out of sight
And Janey declared she was almost wild:
But they kept her back till the turn o' the night,
When she rush'd to the stile and found her own child

'Twas there, sure enough, her own dear child
But when first she saw it,
She did not know it-- It look'd so frighten'd--it seem'd so wild.

Then the old women said,
If it keeps its wits,
We're sadly afraid
The poor babe will have fits

Hunt 1903

The Spriggans of Trencrom Hill

'IT is not many years since a man, who thought he was fully informed as to the spot in which a crock of the giant's gold was buried, proceeded on one fine moonlight night to this enchanted hill, and with spade and pick commenced his search. He proceeded for some time without interruption, and it became evident to him that the treasure was not far off. The sky was rapidly covered with the darkest clouds, shutting out the brilliant light o the moon--which had previously gemmed each cairn--and leaving the gold-seeker in total and unearthly darkness. The wind rose, and roared terrifically amidst the rocks; but this was soon drowned amidst the fearful crashes of thunder, which followed in quick succession the flashes of lightning. By its light the man perceived that the spriggans were coming out in swarms from all the rocks. They were in countless numbers; and although they were small at first, they rapidly increased in size, until eventually they assumed an almost giant form, looking all the while, as he afterwards said, "as ugly as if they would eat him." How this poor man escaped is unknown, but he is said to have been so frightened that he took to his bed, and was not able to work for a long time.'

Hunt 1903

Changelings

'A CORRESPONDENT, to whom I am much indebted for many curious examples of the folk-lore of the people in the -remote districts to the west of Penzance, says, in reference to some stories of fairy changelings--"I never knew but one child that had been kept by the Spriggans more than three days. It was always complaining, sickly, and weakly, and had the very face of a changeling."

It has been my fortune, some thirty or forty years since, to have seen several children of whom it had been whispered amongst the peasantry that they were changelings. In every case they have been sad examples of the influence of mesenteric disease--the countenance much altered -- their eyes glassy and sunk in their sockets--the nose sharpened--the cheeks of a marble whiteness, unless when they were flushed with hectic fever--the lips sometimes swollen and of a deep,- red colour, and small ulcers not unfrequently at the angles of the mouth. The wasted frame, with sometimes strumous swellings, and the unnatural abdominal enlargement which accompanies disease of mesenteric glands, gives a very sad, and often a most unnatural appearance to the sufferer. The intense ignorance which existed in many of the districts visited by me, at the period named, has been almost dispelled by the civilising influences of Wesleyanism. Consequently, when ascrofulous child is found in a family, we no longer hear of its being a changeling; but, within a very recent period, I have heard it said that such afflicted children had been "ill-wished."'

Hunt 1903

The Piskie

'The Piskie.--This fairy is a most mischievous and very unsociable sprite. His favourite fun is to entice people into the bogs by appearing like the light from a cottage window, or as a man carrying a lantern. The Piskie partakes, in many respects, of the character of the Spriggan. So wide-spread were their depredations, and so annoying their tricks, that it at one time was necessary to select persons whose acuteness and ready tact were a match for these quick-witted wanderers, and many a clever man has become famous for his power to give charms against Pigseys. it does not appear, however, that anything remarkable was required of the clever man. "No Pigsey could harm a man if his coat were inside-out, and it became a very common practice for persons who had to go from village to village by night, to wear their jacket or cloak so turned, ostensibly to prevent the dew from taking the shine off the cloth, but in reality to render them safe from the Pigseys."

They must have been a merry lot, since to "laugh like a Piskie" is a popular saying. These little fellows were great plagues to the farmers, riding their colts and chasing their cows.'

Hunt 1903

The Spriggan

'The Spriggans are quite a different class of beings. In some respects they appear to be offshoots from the-family of the Trolls of Sweden and Denmark. The Spriggans are found only about the cairns, coits, or cromlechs, burrows, or detached stones, with which it is unlucky for mortals to meddle. A correspondent writes: "This is known, that they were a remarkably mischievous arid thievish tribe. If ever a house was robbed, a child stolen, cattle carried away, or a building demolished, it was the work of the Spriggans. Whatever commotion took place in earth, air, or water, it was all put down as the work of these spirits. Wherever the giants have been, there the Spriggans have been also. It is usually considered that they are the ghosts of the giants; certainly, from many of their feats, we must suppose them to possess giant's strength. The Spriggans have the charge of buried treasure."'

Hunt 1903

The 5 fairy varieties of Cornwall

'It should be understood that there are in Cornwall five varieties of the fairy family, clearly distinguishable --

1. The Small People.

2. The Spriggans.

3. Piskies, or Pigseys.

4. The Buccas, Bockles, or Knockers.

5. The Browneys.'

Hunt 1903

Trencrobben Giants

'THE rough granite hill of Trecrobben rises in almost savage grandeur from the wooded lands which form the park of Trevetha, close by the picturesque village of Lelant. From the summit of this hill may be surveyed one of the most striking panoramic views in Cornwall...

...Let the observer now turn his face northward, and a new and varied scene lies before him. Within two miles the waters of St Ives' Bay break against the cliffs. On the left is the creek of Hayle, which has been fashioned by the energy of man into a useful harbour, and given rise to the foundation of two extensive iron-foundries. Between those and the sea are the hills of blown sand, which have ever been the homes of the Fairy people....

....To the left, towards the sea, rises the cenotaph of Knill, an eccentric man, who evidently sought to secure some immortality by this building, and the silly ceremonials carried on around it; the due performance of which he has secured by bequests to the Corporation of St Ives. Around this the mining district of St Ives is seen, and her fishing-boats dotting the sea give evidence of another industry of vast importance to the town and neighbourhood. Westward of St Ives, hills more brown and rugged than any which have yet been viewed stretch away to Zennor, Morva, and St Just, and these, girding the scene beneath our feet, shut out from us the region of the Land's End.

On the summit of this hill, which is only surpassed in savage grandeur by Cam Brea, the giants built a castle--the four entrances to which still remain in Cyclopean massiveness to attest the Herculean powers by which such mighty blocks were piled upon each other. There the giant chieftains dwelt in awful state. Along the serpentine road, passing up the hill to the principal gateway, they dragged their captives, and on the great flat rocks within the castle they sacrificed them. Almost every rock still bears some name connected with the giants--"a race may perish, but the name endures." The treasures of the giants who dwelt here are said to have been buried in the days of their troubles, when they were perishing before the conquerors of their land. Their gold and jewels were hidden deep in the granite caves of this hill, and secured by spells as potent as those which Merlin placed upon his "hoarded treasures." They are securely preserved, even to the present day, and carefully guarded from man by the Spriggans, or Trolls, of whom we have to speak in another page.

[a] Bryn-whella, the highest hill, according to Mr Bellows.'

Hunt 1903