Bovey Coal

[Bovey Heath] "The lignite, "Bovey Coal" as it is locally called, is full of cones, leaves and ferns. Attempts have been made from time to time to use it as fuel but never successfully, as it burns badly and smells worse."

Cresswell 1921

Map - Bovey Heath

Wistmans Wood

'Wistman's Wood, one of the lions of Dartmoor, probably takes its name from whisht, a Devonshire synonym for "uncanny." It is a group of stunted and gnarled oaks, mixed with ferns and mountain ash, rooted among mossy boulders which make rough scrambling. There are said to be some five hundred of these trees many of them several centuries old, but none more than 10 or 12 feet high. One tradition gives them as planted in the 13th century by Isabella de Fortibus, Countess of Devon; but this weird wood appears to be still older. It is naturally connected with the Druids, and another derivation finds its name in their synonym ' The Wise Men." Both stories and trees answer doubly to ancient ideas of a sacred place, and few superstitious natives would care to find themselves here in the dark. It is haunted by adders, which make a real danger ~ one should be careful in picking one's steps among the boulders and their choked-up interstices. While this primeval wood seems almost as ancient as the stone monuments around it, the greenery in the adjacent Cowsick glen has been carefully nursed into beauty within our own century.'

Hope Moncrieff 1895

Annie Jefferies and the Fairies - part 1

'ANNE JEFFERIES was the daughter of a poor labouring man, who lived in the parish of St Teath. She was born in 1626, and is supposed to have died in 1698.

When she was nineteen years old, Anne, who was a remarkably sharp and clever girl, went to live as a servant in the family of Mr Moses Pitt. Anne was an unusually bold girl, and would do things which even boys feared to attempt. Of course, in those days every one believed in fairies, and everybody feared those little airy beings. They were constantly the talk of the people, and this set Anne longing anxiously to have an interview with some of them. So Anne was often abroad after sundown, turning up the fern leaves, and looking into the bells of the foxglove to find a fairy, singing all the time--

"Fairy fair and fairy bright;
Come and be my chosen sprite."

She never allowed a moonlight night to pass without going down into the valley, and walking against the stream, singing--

"Moon shines bright, waters run clear,
I am here, but where's my fairy dear?"

The fairies were a long time trying this poor girl; for, as they told her afterwards, they never lost sight of her; but there they would be, looking on when she was seeking them, and they would run from frond to frond of the ferns, when she was turning them up its her anxious search...' [cont.]

Hunt 1903

The Fairy Gardens - part 1

'IF the adventurous traveller who visits the Land's End district will go down as far as he can on the south-west side of the Logan Rock Cairn, and look over, he will see, in little sheltered places between the cairns, close down to the water's edge, beautifully green spots, with here and there some ferns and cliff-pinks. These are the gardens of the Small People, or, as they are called by the natives, Small Folk. They are beautiful little creatures, who appear to pass a life of constant enjoyment amongst their own favourite flowers. They are harmless and if man does not meddle with them when they are holding their fairs--which are indeed high festivals--the Small Folk never interfere with man or anything belonging to him. They are known to do much good, especially when they discover a case of oppressed poverty; but they do it in their own way. They love to do good for its own sake, and the publication of it in any way draws down their censure, and sometimes severe anger, on the object whom it was their purpose to serve. To prove that those lovely little creatures are no dream, I may quote the words of a native of St Levan:...' [cont.]


Hunt 1903

The Fairy Widower - part 7

'...Jenny sat up in the bed and bent her arm, resting her hand on her hip.

"Now say, I hope my arm may never come uncrooked if I have told ye a word of a lie."

"I hope my arm may never come uncrooked if I have told ye a word of a lie," repeated Jenny.

"Uncrook your arm," said Mary.

Jenny stretched out her arm.

"It is truth the girl is telling," said Mary; "and she has been carried by the Small People to some of their countries under the hills."

"Will the girl ever come right in her mind?" asked her mother.

"All in good time," said Mary; "and if she will but be honest, I have no doubt but her master will take care that she never wants."

Howbeit, Jenny did not get on very well in the world. She married and was discontented and far from happy. Some said she always pined after the fairy widower. Others said they were sure she had misbehaved herself, or she would have brought back lots of gold. If Jenny had not dreamt all this, while she was sitting picking ferns on the granite boulder, she had certainly had a very strange adventure.'

Hunt 1903

The Fairy Widower - part 3

'...The widower rattled the gold in his breeches-pocket. "Wages! well, whatever you like to ask," said the man. Jenny was charmed; all sorts of visions rose before her eyes, and without hesitation she said--"Well, I 'II take the place, sir; when must I come?" "I require you now--my little boy is very unhappy, and I think you can make him happy again. You 'll come at once ?" "But mother"--"Never mind mother, I 'll send word to her." "But my clothes " --. "The clothes you have will be all you require, and I 'll put you in a much gayer livery soon."

"Well, then," says Jane, "'tis a bargain "--"Not yet," says the man; I 'ye got a way of my own, and you must swear my oath."

Jenny looked frightened.

"You need not be alarmed," said the man, very kindly; "I only wish you to kiss that fern-leaf which you have in your hand, and say, 'For a year and a day I promise to stay."

"Is that all?" said Jenny; so she kissed the fern-leaf and said--

"For a year and a day
I promise to stay."

Without another word he walked forward on the road leading eastward. Jenny followed him--she thought it strange that her new master never opened his lips to her all the way, and she grew very tired with walking. Still onward and onward he went, and Jenny was sadly weary and her feet dreadfully sore. At last poor Jenny began to cry. He heard her sob and looked round.

"Tired are you, poor girl? Sit down--sit down," says the man, and he took her by the hand and led her to a mossy bank. His kindness completely overcame her, and she burst into a flood of tears. He allowed her to cry for a few minutes, then taking a bunch of leaves from the bottom of the bank, he said, "Now I must dry your eyes, Jenny."

He passed the bunch of leaves rapidly first over one and then over the other eye...' [cont.]

Hunt 1903

The Fairy Widower - part 1

'NOT many years since a very pretty girl called Jenny Permuen lived in Towednack. She was of poor parents, and lived in service. There was a good deal of romance, or what the old people called nonsense, in Jenny. She was always smartly dressed, and she would arrange wildflowers very gracefully in her hair. As a consequence, Jenny attracted much of the attention of the young men, and again, as a consequence, a great deal of envy from the young women. Jenny was, no doubt, vain; and her vanity, which most vain persons will say is not usual, was accompanied by a considerable amount of weakness on any point connected with her person. Jenny loved flattery, and being a poor, uneducated girl, she had not the genius necessary to disguise her frailty. When any man told her she was lovely, she quite admitted the truth of the assertion by her pleased looks. When any woman told her not to be such a fool as to believe such nonsense, her lips, and eyes too, seemed to say you are only jealous of me, and if there was a pool of water near, nature's mirror was speedily consulted to prove to herself that she was really the best-looking girl in the parish. Well, one day Jenny, who had been for some time out of a situation, was sent by her mother down to the lower parishes to "look for a place." Jenny went on merrily enough until she came to the four cross roads on the Lady Downs, when she discovered that she knew not which road to take. She looked first one way and then another, and she felt fairly puzzled, so she sat down on a boulder of granite, and began, in pure want of thought, to break off the beautiful fronds of ferns which grew abundantly around the spot she had chosen. It is hard to say what her intentions were, whether to go on, to return, or to remain where she was, so utterly indifferent did Jenny appear. Some say she was entirely lost in wild dreams of self-glorification. However, she had not sat long on this granite stone, when hearing a voice near her, she turned round and saw a young man...' [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

Barkers Knee or The Fairy Tools

'There lived in the neighbourhood a great, hulking fellow, who would rather do anything than work, and who refused to believe anything he heard. He had been told of the Fairy Well--he said it was "all a dream." But since the good people around him reiterated their belief in the fairies of the well, he said he 'd find it all out. So day after day, Barker--that was this hulk's name--would lie down amidst the ferns growing around the mouth of the well, and, basking in the sunshine, listen and watch. He soon heard pick and shovel, and chit-chat, and merry laughter. Well, "he 'd see the out of all this," he told his neighbours. Day after day, and week after week, this fellow was at his post. Nothing resulted from his watching. At last he learned to distinguish the words used by the busy workers. He discovered that each set of labourers worked eight hours, and that, on leaving, they hid their tools. They made no secret of this; and one evening he heard one say, he should place his tools in a cleft in the rock; another, that he should put his under the ferns; and another said, he should leave his tools on Barker's knee. He started on hearing his own name. At that moment a heavy weight fell on the man's knee; he felt excessive pain, and roared to have the cursed things taken away. His cries were answered by laughter. To the day of his death Barker had a stiff knee; he was laughed at by all the parish; and "Barker's knee" became a proverb.'

Hunt 1903

The Lost Child

'IN the little hamlet of Treonike, in the parish of St Allen, has long lingered the story of a lost child, who was subsequently found. All the stories agree in referring the abduction of the child to supernatural agency, and in some cases it is referred to the "Small People or Piskies,"--in others, to less amiable spiritual creatures. Mr Hals [a] has given one version of this story, which differs in some respects from the tale as I heard it, from an old woman some thirty years since, who then lived in this parish. Her tale was to the following effect. It was a lovely evening, and the little boy was gathering flowers in the fields, near a wood. The child was charmed by hearing some beautiful music, which he at first mistook for the song of birds; but, being a sharp boy, he was not long deceived, and he went towards the wood to ascertain from whence the melodious sounds came. When he reached the verge of the wood, the music was of so exquisite a character, that he was compelled to follow the sound, which appeared to travel before him. Lured in this way, the boy penetrated to the dark centre of the grove, and here, meeting with some difficulties, owing to the thick growth of underwood, he paused and began to think of returning. The music, however, became more ravishing than before, and some invisible being appeared to crush down all the low and tangled plants, thus forming for him a passage, over which he passed without any difficulty. At length he found himself on the edge of a small lake, and, greatly to his astonishment, the darkness of night was around him, but the heavens were thick with stars. The music ceased, and, wearied with his wanderings, the boy fell asleep on a bed of ferns. He related, on his restoration to his parents, that he was taken by a beautiful lady through palaces of the most gorgeous description. Pillars of glass supported arches which glistened with every colour, and these were hung with crystals far exceeding anything which were ever seen in the caverns of a Cornish mine. It is, however, stated that many days passed away before the child was found by his friends, and that at length he was discovered, one lovely morning, sleeping on the bed of ferns, on which he was supposed to have fallen asleep on the first adventurous evening. There was no reason given by the narrator why the boy was "spirited away" in the first instance, or why he was returned. Her impression was, that some sprites, pleased with the child's innocence and beauty, had entranced him. That when asleep he had been carried through the waters to the fairy abodes beneath them; and she felt assured that a child so treated would be kept under the especial guardianship of the sprites for ever afterwards. Of this, however, tradition leaves us in ignorance.'

Hunt 1903